In 3 months (the less-than-90 days between March 23 and June 19), we’ve had Dave-the-husband’s birthday, Amelie’s first birthday, Stormie’s quarter-of-a-century birthday (plus moving her into her first house-she is a homeowner!!), Tara’s super-early-30sbirthday and Mother’s Day. We had Stephanie’s birthday, Gemma’s birthday followed closely by Gavin’s lava’d birthday, Guini and Hunter’s Kindergarten graduations, Wrex’s birthday, Tredessa (28) and DP’s (30th) birthdays and Father’s Day. There have been 2 major Heaven Fest dinners and a couple of big-HF-family-meetings with all the trimmings and even Luka had a bday
The first grandson turned 8 and we all gathered for a happy-Saturday-morning breakfast-party. I used strawberry Jello for the “lava,” but even though in the trial run the actual liquid didn’t ooze out, but rather just red Jello-bubbles travelled slowly over the sides, no one wanted me to put more Jello in, afraid the donuts would be drenched in it, ruined for consumption. PLUS my dry ice melted down to 2 tiny slivers overnight. Guess I need a lesson in dry ice!!? Gav and I will have to try it again sometimes when there is no Jello-sogginess-concern. With LOTS of dry ice. A red explosion!!
Gavin’s dinosaur cake when he turned 4, I think, was sort of the beginning of my “cake adventures.” He keeps making life fun. Love that boy!
Wrote about his birthday:: H E R E. We did a double-celebration for him and Tredessa with a big Rhoades-family-Mexican meal. Cilantro rice and carne-asada steak tacos plus pulled pork green chile tacos and all the things that go with those. Dave wanted strawberry shortcake for his birthday. Tredessa had Lazy Peach Dessert (see below) for hers. Naturally Wrex performed a song for Dave and noted all his “famous” phraseologies (i.e. o-my-hinkin’-harry, bro-ham-and-cheese, etc) and even mentioned his penchant for v-neck tees. Stef is a master lyricist! Dave got the blessings and encouragements from the fam and Tara played him a most appropriate Brad Paisley song, “It Did.” [see here]
And she had a lovely birthday with him. I wrote her b-day blog:: H E R E. Then the double-celebration with DP. She got a song from Wrex and it was a little on the ornery side, which Wrex believes brothers should do. It was hilarious. It fit right into the tune of “Take Me Home, Country Rhoades,” if you can imagine. She is an amazing woman and in love, which we like.
Lazy Peach Dessert by Jane Hagelstein
From the October 1988 issue of Family Ties (the monthly newsletter of New Life Church of God in Norfolk, NE). But I actually have the handwritten recipe card Jane wrote it on. Beloved and quite in shambles.
My best advice for this in Colorado: wait until the western slope peaches are ripe and juicy and cause you car to drive itself to a roadside market where the scent and taste literally scream: DELICIOUS! Yeah. They just aren’t quite right, yet, these California peaches. Huh-uh. Nope.
Shortbread crust:
Combine 1 cup oleo* 1 3/4 cups flour 2 tablespoons sugar dash of saltLightly pat into glass cake pan (if you push it in hard, it will be tougher and less light and pastry-ish and amazingly wonderful). Bake it for 15-18 minutes in a 350-degree oven. Cool.
Peach sauce topping:
2 cups sugar 2 cups water 2 tablespoons corn starch 2 3 oz packages peach Jello 1 tablespoon oleo*In a saucepan, blend and cook water, sugar and cornstarch until thickened and clear. remove from heat. Stir in Jello and oleo until dissolved. Cool.
Assemble
Slice or chop 7-8 ripe peaches (sometimes I make them all beautiful and perfectly uniform. Unless they aren’t great peaches anyway…like this batch). Distribute over the top of the crust. Pour over the sauce. Put in the fridge for at least 2 hours (overnight is best). Cut into 12 servings. Top with whipped cream.
You may also make this dessert with canned peaches, Jane Hagelstien noted (so Nebraska) or use fresh strawberries and strawberry Jello.
*Oleo, for my dear children, was another name for “margarine” back in the day. Just use REAL butter instead and all will be well!
Complete wih a custom song for him by Dave and the girls to the “Wolfcreek Pass” soundtrack. Love this guy. There is not a more genuine, giving and generous man than Wrex. His parents did a great job, but if he were ever in the market for new parents, we’d apply for the job. He is just a cool guy. That is why God blessed him with the gorgeous Stefane and the two of them with the loveable kiss-kiss, Princess Sawyer. LOVE them all!
Dave chose his fav worship songs. We sang along to guitar accompaniment, all the current favs, but it morphed in to pulling out all those old songs from the years the kids were growing up. Pretty hilarious. Songs you never really want to sing ever agin, but in this context were pretty fun. “Lord, I lift Your name on high. I’m so glad to sing your praises…” Haha.
Artwork by the grandbebes, found the next morning. Mixed media:: chalk and stickers on concrete. Intrigued by the block that say, “Aim for the head,” and the stick figure identified as “dad,” albeit backwards, with a huge bunch of snot coming out of his nose. Haha.
NEXT UP: Summer starts June 21! Today! YEAH!!
Time to relax a bit with some lollygagging in the garden and floating in the pool and you know, a little thing called Heaven Fest. www.heavenfest.com
We made it!
Safeway did an ad campaign with Tony Bennett’s rendition of “Are You Having Any Fun?” a few years ago and that is when I knew I loved his version best, though it is one of those old songs that have been recorded by lots of singers. And besides it being a happy-day-making song, it asks a good question- better, I think, than questions about where you think you’ll be in 5 years and whether or not you feel on target to own everything you ever wanted to own or have accomplished everything on your bucket list. It is simple: are you having any fun?
If you read me at all you know I am waaaaaaaaaay too serious and prone to melancholy and consider my glass-is-half-empty tendancies to simply be realistic expectations. But as God has been revealing to me from His own Word how much he intended J O Y to play a part in our lives, well, I am on a quest for it. It is treasure. When I find it (which He lovingly allows over and again), I am renewed and restored and healed and strengthened, just like Father knew I would be. Wow, He is good. Yes, He is!
You don’t choose your family. They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them. ~Desmond Tutu
Our late March -to- mid June months are a crazy-filled 90 days of family birthdays and celebrations. I mean, we see each other a-lot! We have 3 kid birthdays and 6 adult birthdays, Mother’s Day, Easter, Father’s Day, school programs, craft days, Heaven Fest intensifying: all good stuff. But it works because my kids are all so creative and thoughtful. They choose to change up locales, houses or parks. They theme things with kick-ball games or a New York-style food night. The grandbebes might order a 3-tier cake for one week and a stacked-donut volcano the next. It keeps it interesting and creates an ebb and flow of good times and laughter and getting to watch my granbebes running madly through life, short legs carrying giant personalities.
Is family life an efforrt? You betcha. You didn’t get to choose the family you’d get. But you choose to stay a family. You choose to do what it takes to love and build and be with the people God ordained to be in your life. Love. Family. Use it or lose it. It is something I go after with intentionality. It is what I have covenanted my life to.
I don’t care how poor a man is; if he has family, he’s rich. ~Dan Wilcox and Thad Mumford, “Identity Crisis,” M*A*S*H TV show
I assembled brief moments of my May days into a video as a reminder of where the joy came from. It was a busy month. It was a beautiful month. The calendar was full, and my heart was enlarged with love and gratefulness. You won’t see the times I cried or failed or maybe made some one feel bad or was tempted to take offense. You won’t see my way- unrighteous moments or hear my constant self-doubt or times of anxiousness. Those things happened too. It’s called life.
So don’t mistake the fact that I am sharing the j-o-y for thinking I am just lucky and sailing through life unscathed. Oh, I get scathed, baby! ;) This also is not an attempt at painting pretty, but false pictures, either. But it is a sliver of my chosen treasure, the blessed moments, the transcendant times in the Presence, May days and nights when joy was mine, a gift of favor from a loving, faithful God. I can’t remember everything, so I have decided what I will remember – and these are some of those times of rejoicing and they are God and they are good. And they are mine.
The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another’s desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together. ~Erma Bombeck
There will be birthday gatherings and putting up the pool (pool parties to come), lots of grass mowing (the mower is humming along as we speak!) and gardening and cooking for crowds (for 100 tomorrow night!). Dappled sunlight and music by moonlight, summer and crickets’ song, kids squealing and sidewalk chalk and pots of pretty flowers. A recital to benefit the exploited, fast-paced festival-planning days vs. lemonade as I swing on the patio times. Father’s Day and Heaven Fest Sundays. June will bring even extended family times as we jet to Chicago for Moslander-Family-Reunion (Ross-the-Boss, Mrs-Moss, and all-the-little-Landers…I am a “little Lander”). June is shaping up to be lovely. I will watch for the joy…and I’ll let you know where I find it!
Family is just accident…. They don’t mean to get on your nerves. They don’t even mean to be your family, they just are. ~Marsha Norman
Thank-You, LORD, for mine.
Oh happy day. You make me happy when skies are gray. And all sorts of fun songs about love and joy. To you. For your birthday today. Am I supposed to mention that you are 32? Because I won’t if I shouldn’t. You should not hate it. Think of me – your mother!! If you are 32, then I am….
A novice, a clueless girl. A May day. The lilacs in full, fragrant glory. The sunshine. Green grass. No money. Uncertain times. A God who loved you and was already smiling at your life.
When you were a teenager, everything was stars. They were your “motif,” and all around you were oodles of doodles of stars and star design on your clothes and belongings and in presents you got. And you were nicknamed “Shooting Stara” and it was cute. But it was part of youth. It was part of a past and you have become a claassic woman of dignity, beauty, strength and grace now. Save, perhaps for when you are competing with great zeal on the kickball field or during a volleyball game. Becoming wise and deeply steadfast, though, has not changed or diminished your easy laugh and happy nature. No, it has only deepened it and made your personality even richer with joy-bringing treasure.
For your birthday, I think of the hallmarks of who you are and what you have always been known for. For me, of course, a gift. Thus the Barbra Streisand song, “The best Gift,” that Bill Tull and Mary Tiller sang for your dedication.
“Liquid joy,” Lisa Bierer called you,for you are a glass-is-half-full, big-smile, cheerleading, enCOURAGing, exhorting kind of person. Everybody in the room feels more loved and more happy when you have arrived.
At the Heaven Fest dinner Saturday night in Loveland
But then, there was the whole “star” phase. And as I thought about you and all you are and everything you are becoming and how, youthful and lighthearted as you remain, you embody even now the personality you did at 3 or 4 years of age. And as a teen. So, I could not forget the star part.
But what is different now, sweet daughter? Now, you need to know, you are not a shootingstar, just a brilliant flash of passing dazzle and fancy against a dark sky. You are a star hung steadfastly in the firmament declaring God’s glory. I still see the star in you (S)TARa. I see it. But now, it is as Daniel 12.3 says:
Those who are wise will shine like the brightness of the heavens, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars for ever and ever.
You have the wisdom of some years now. You are not just a pretty girl. You are a ravishing woman. And you are leading many to righteousness, like a cool drink of water on a hot, dusty day, by your life, by your example, by everything God created you to be and to do. That has given you a fixed place in the universe to shine. You shine, baby girl. You shine.
Photo by Ellie Pickett, www.lilacphotography.com Taken last fall. It is the no-make-up session
Actually, ALL photos by www.lilacphotography.com :) Ellie is great!
By the end, frail and broken-down, they were shriveled old people, quietly enduring the ravages of the so-undeserved Alzheimer’s Disease and doing their best not to be a bother for their family or health care workers. The strangers who witnessed their final months and days could not have comprehended, I am sure, the life of love and joy they had lived. They didn’t know about the ever-enlarging family, the children and grandchildren, the greats and great-greats, or of the fruitfulness these two people had unleashed. They couldn’t have looked down the heart’s hallways of the past to a man and a woman wholly devoted to one another, fully giving and loving each other across decades, clinging to one another and living their lives for an epic love, the passion of which never waned.
Their start wasn’t picture perfect. For in those days many years ago, theirs was an “broken” beginning. My Grandpa Allison had married and had 2 daughters with my mom’s mother, but it was doomed from the start, it seemed. He married Opal shortly after his divorce. My Grandma Allison had been married before as well and came into their union with one daughter. And so they were now the 2 + 3. It equaled truelove (yes, I meant that as one word). My Grandma and Grandpa never really talked about their start or their love story to my mom. It seemed some things were best left unsaid out of respect and a show of honor of their former spouses, with whom they shared children. So they kept their romantic connection to themselves. There were innuendos and whisperings, as blended families might have, but as for Opal and Everett, they maintained the dignity of silence and, focused on their love for one another, building a beautiful life together.
I don’t really come from a family that is all that outwardly affectionate. Love runs deep among us and we are now much more giving in public displays of heartfelt warmth, but words of affirmation, outward demonstration and affectionate touch were not hallmarks of the family I grew up in, except perhaps from my mom, who taught me to do Eskimo kisses and butterfly kiss-flutterings and is my biggest cheerleader and hugger even now.
But my very earliest memories of my Grandma and Grandpa Allison are all about the affection, the visible sign of the intensity of an inward passion. They touched constantly. He attended to her every whim, he doted, he adored. He held the door and he held her hand. He always checked her needs, reactions, and responses first in any situation. There was never a doubt in my mind that my handsome, raven-haired, energetic and athletic Grandpa, whose hair only fully grayed during his final few years, adored my Grandma. And she in turn looked at him lovingly, from the dark brunette and sometimes frosted days until her coiff was pure as snow. She was his gentle home, his soft place to land, his True North. Her approval, as a strong and beautiful woman, full of wisdom and grace, was poured on him freely and he thrived successfully in any endevour he attempted because of it.
My grandparents at my own parents’ wedding, August 1957. Are those the most beautiful four people you have ever seen? Ok, maybe I am prejudiced about that, but my mama sure had a handsome and stylin’ dad and chose a cutie-patootie for a husband!
There was such deep love. He served in WWII in the Phillipines in the Navy, leaving his wife and now 5 children-between-them at home. My daughters and I love the pictures she had taken in a beautful gown to send to my Grandpa there because he desired, as he told her when he requested the photographs, his own “pin-up girl” in his foot locker.
Every memory I have of them, through my Kodachrome-colored memories of the early 1960s (I wish there were more actual photographs, but the times…), and throughout my life includes the touching, the hugging, the kisses, the hand-holding, the warm affection and assurance of a lasting love. And they shared that, too.
My Grandpa was the man who’d hold me on his lap like a little princess and call me “Debbie Jean” to make my momma happy (she’d lost the name game to my dad’s choice). This beautiful man I admired with all my heart and soul as a little girl became even more deeply imbedded in my heart when, after I was grown and married, he made a decision to follow Christ, quickly becoming a man of the Word and leading the adult Sunday School class at his Baptist church. He’d spent years investigating religions, a good man who didn’t fall lightly in to things. When he decided to follow Jesus, he sent me a letter and said, “Oh, how many years I wasted looking for truth. I wish I could get them all back to serve Jesus.” I got my business sense from him, he was a mover and a shaker and quite entreprenurial. Brave and creative, his influence on me, especially in retail aptitude, is undeniable.
I admired them, perhaps even revered them. Attending a family funeral when my children were little and watching them walk in, he, my ruggedly handsome and distinguished grandpapa in his suit, she, my darling grandmama, elegant and serene ~ I was mesmerized at the regal sight of them, so proud to call them my grandparents. They sat down the row from me, in their early 70s. They were holding hands like young lovers, yet seasoned and wise sweethearts; the embers, once shooting flames in a youthful, passionate romance, now white-hot and glowing, a stronger, deeper love for the years.
My Grandpa passed away a few years ago. He’d been fighting to retain the identity Alzheimer’s so ruthlessly rips from a soul. His final days in a nursing home left Grandma rattling around their large retirement home on the Lake of the Ozarks mostly alone. When my parents visited and they planned a trip to see Grandpa, my mom says Grandma Allison (my mom’s beloved step-mother, a woman whose love and acceptance meant everything to my mom), would become as giddy as a school girl, curling her hair and doing her make-up, excited to go see her love. She even complained that several of the nurses flirted with him and she was not happy about it.
And even as he was failing and struggled to recognize his own children, when his love arrived, he knew her. And the affection between them melted away the wrinkles and the years. Those times, they were just Opal and Everett, lifetime lovers. And she would sit in his lap and put her arms around him. They were head-over-heels in love until the end, “two hearts that beat as one,*” that ridiculous almost never-seen kind of love that everyone thinks they have on their wedding day – but few seem able to maintain to the end. Before Grandpa even died, my sweet, tiny Grandma, the most loving and thoughtful, and gracious woman in the world, was also diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease. When he passed on, my gentle grandma deteriorated quickly – just started slipping away. She was moved to a care center and went very silent. My mom was able to bring some glistening light to her eyes by singing a song she loved, one my Grandpa had sung to her “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…” Grandma would somehow muster strength to hum along, a pleasant memory dancing behind her eyes.
A Nicholas Sparks movie has nothing on my grands. She died 2 years to the day after the love of her life had gone. Somehow it didn’t seem an ending so much ~ just that she’d finally been released to go where her heart had already gone. And wherever Opal and Everett are, I know they are holding hands or he’s got his arms wrapped around her or they’re embraced under a tree near a lake, a slight breeze touching their contented faces. And their true love remains. Endless. Endlessly. *Lyrics from the 1981 hit by Lionel Ritchie and Diana Ross, “Endless Love.”
I kinda took a blogging fast after epiphany (January 6), which I was afraid to say “out loud” until later in January {wrote about it HERE}. And I didn’t know how long I’d stay gone and there were birthdays I had to mention and a few times I couldn’t resist posting something like a link or video or quick thought. But true writing/blogging, I have not done. And how I have missed it. And how, especially right now, in the midst of the greatest joys anyone could experience and in the midst of the deepest of sorrowful things for people I love deeply, right in the middle of the messiness of life and celebration-worthy rites of passage and as the tulips are becoming glorious and the daffodils stand tall and proud – I just need to be and able to break-the-blog-fast to say, and {to declare loudly}:
So, I am back to write that ~~~ plus lots of silly things and a little opining, too. I will write about sunny days and my quest for joy and let you in on where I find it. I will sing songs and share the lyrics and write about life as I see it. And I am back to write because my mom thinks I am good at it (everyone should have such a cheerleader!) and because I want a written record for my familia.
And I am back to blogging because, to shamelessly rip off 1 John 1, I am writing about the Word of Life! I have not only heard of Him, I have heard fromHim myself, and have seen Him with my own eyes and touched Him and been touched by Him. So I want to share and tell the things I have seen and heard with my own familia and the ones God has made mine by His Spirit. My “motive for writing is simply this: [I] want you to enjoy this, too. Your joy will double [my] joy!” (1 John 1.1-4, The Message)
She is an amazing homemaker and it was cozy within days. She is also very creative and organized and it is a lovely, peaceful place. There is a giant, jetted tub in the guest quarters where the grandbebes could swim laps! Their yard connects to open space (which in Colorado is guarded like gold!) and their big window views are of the crystal-clear Colorado Rockies. They are home!
Parsonage on the left. Church on the right. Too close for comfort.
There’s a lot a-lotta pink in the girlie room!
It is cute as a dollhouse and colorful and sweet. It fairly screams Rocky + Jovan + 2 of the cutest little girls = Blue and green & lots o’ pink and JOYfully Ever After!
Aren’t the presents kids get at three just the most fun? Her Grammy and Papa hosted in Frederick and it was a sunny day full of cute kids and smiles!
We shall gather near Chicago late June. Frontier Airlines to Midway, car-to-go, please.
“Aged cheddar cheese and just the right amount of spicy seasonings create a flavor that is highlighted by the adzuki beans’ subtle sweetness. Together with its light and crispy texture, this artisan snack is the perfect better-for-you snack chip because of the adzuki bean’s natural healing and health properties.”
Thank-you Candi, for this most wondrous introduction. I shall ever be grateful…and smiling as I crunch on them.
The volunteers for Heaven Fest, the leadership and everyone who is part are THE. MOST. AMAZING. PEOPLE. IN. THE. WORLD. I love them. {Stonebrook Manor in Thornton, Jim Elliot School in Englewood, Northern Hills Church in Brighton and Rez in Loveland} Thank-you, people! www.stonebrookmanor.com
He played Grandpa Joe to the great delight of crowds of people. Stephanie had to assure her friends he did not really walk or act that old in real life, because he was so good and a local news article said the “ubitiquous Dave Rhoades” threatened to steal the show. And? Even though it was sprayed gray, he got to keep his hair (in “Annie” a year ago, CLICK HERE he was shaved bald)!
That is Colorado for you. And though March is our snowiest month, we didn’t get any. Uh-oh. Watch out, May!
Joe made red beans and rice (to-die-for, mmmmmm) and I made an ok batch of gumbo. That got better each day until it was gone.
Is it ok to say that here? Well she did and he is cute (Army) and she kind of adores his muscles (Norwegian from Florida). And how sweet he treats her (prophetic intercessor). We all like him. That works out well. And since I don’t think he even knows I have a blog, I can pass all the news about them on to you. Haha.
I am not against Daylight Savings at all. It tells me gardening is around the corner. Every night, as the blue hours (l’heure bleu) get bluer and last measurable minutes longer, I sigh happily.
The Ranchin Loveland! Oh, yeah, baby! www.heavenfest.com
She is “Dorothy,” which seems so perfectly appropriate, somehow! VERY proud of our little working actress!
It’s a wonderful night for a moondance…
…the last refuge of modest people, when their soul is invaded.
One day I woke up – and there it was, spring! And I looked out the window to a sure confirmation: the garlic chives were taking over the back yard already!
Look at all the colorful dishes waiting for Dessa to finish painting the cupboards.
A 1919 bungalow. Cute and in pristine condition. Great price. The last owner {Ruby} had lived there since 1944.
She will live with her baby sister.
Sorely missed at the celebration were the Powers fam. Another celebration will have to ensue.
Yep. That is Wrex. The Birthday Singer.
Austria has chocolate and really good pastry (and tafelspitz, and germkenodel). and is where Arnold Schwarzenegger came from. Julie Andrews made their hills famous as she twirled and sang. Lots o’ composers were from this little nation (Mozart, Beethoven, Strauss, Brahms and more). It is mainly Catholic, but mostly in a traditional, religious way. And it is a great mission field.
Tris and the worship team take on the castle.
Got to see pictures and hear his experience last night. The missionaries throw country music into the worship set list because people are drawn to that. A little Keith Urban here, a little Brad Paisley there. But they did not “get” Brad’s song, “I’m Gonna Miss Her,” about a guy whose wife gives him an ultimatum. They thought they were misunderstanding the translation and asked, “Why would a man choose fishing over his wife?” Perplexed, they were.
And it turns out they are NOT fans of “The Sound of Music.” Tris said they find it campy and believe it paints them in a bad light, to which my husband speculated sarcastically, “You mean because they sided with the Germans?!” Never-mind him, Tris. You went. You played. You ministered!
And everytime one of Tristan’s photos did show some beautiful hills, it was hard for me not to break into song. They did get that right!
I doubt this Austrian street drummer knew he was no match for our Tristan. Ahem.
When my kids go, I stay and pray. My honor to do so, to share my kiddos with the nations! And Tristan is wonderful. He brought us Mozart’s Balls (chocolate truffles, people) from the land of “singing hills” and coffee, too. Yum!
Stormie got baking chocolate. Mmmm…what loveliness awaits us this holiday season, I wonder? NOTE: Careers with McDonalds are available there, it seems.
Wanna hear some awesome Holy-Spirit-anointed drumming by Tristan Kelley? Right HERE! Click on “Freedom” (also down-loadable) for 34 minutes of his playing with scriptures on the topic read by Pastor Lewis Brown and Lewis Brown Junior (Proxy). Very cool!
That woman travels and teaches! AND she brought me ART! A signed and numbered piece called Heart Garden in a series of paintings about the heart (from Proverbs 4.23)…isn’t it beautiful? There is actually so much to look at in all the details!
Check out the website by clicking here! You’ll find English translations by scrolling on down.
Little Obi-Wan arrives
Darth-daddy and the Light-Saber Family
Little Jedis; the R2-D2 cake
Hunter and some of his cousins a couple of months ago
Suddenly the “little guy” in turning in to a big kid. He is smart as a whip and will talk your ear right off. He is organized and meticulous and precise. He saus what he means and means what he says! And he cracks me up on purpose and quite by accident. His favorite snack at my house? A cup full of parmesan cheese and a spoon while he watches a movie.
Here is a little project Hunter and I did a couple of days ago. He was in a dancing mood, but not so much a talkng mood, but still…he is Hunter!
