A kitchen at last!

Well, it’s all go here!

From fear of never finishing and frustration at the slow progress and lack of productivity of yours truly, we have hope, renewed confidence, and a light at the end of the tunnel.
Gary was very brave and got stuck into the flat pack IKEA kitchen which Maria so kindly donated as our wedding present.  There were a few wrong turns as he ‘read’ the pictorial instructions, which, in black and white, are pretty hard to follow! and there were a few scary moments when we thought it wasn’t all going to fit.  But fit it did and now, at last I have a kitchen.  OK, right now I don’t have a BENCHTOP, so I can’t actually USE it, but I have a kitchen!
All the skirtings have been cut to size and await the attentions of the painter (me!), and the new door frames around the cupboards in the bedrooms have also been installed and ditto.  Progress, my friends is being made!
Everyone convenes in my bedroom in the morning as I sip my hot juice and delicately pick my way through my toast and I dole out the day’s instructions just like the Queen of Sheba.  Then the boys all get to work and I warily get up and then spend the next hour or so alternating the venues for my morning retchings.  Everyone just ignores me wherever I might be!  Situation normal in the Love household!
Just a reminder of the kitchen I have been living with for the last 6 months or so . . . .

Are we there yet?

Lordy, I’m so far behind . . . better buckle down and try and piece together the past for you!  Get ready for a marathon!

I feel as if we’re never going to get there.  I am weak as a kitten, prostrate over porcelain and tired beyond my worst nightmares and Ged, too, is over it.  Talking of marathons, it feels like we are in the last 3 or four miles when you’ve already hit the ‘wall’ – everything hurts and it seems too far, too much, and an impossible reach to the finish line.  Every fibre of your being is screaming ‘give up, give up, give up’ and it is only the exhortations of the strangers on the sidelines that keeps you putting one foot in front of the other . . . .
There’s so much still to do and that determined, ambitious, can do, will do, nothing gets in my way, never say can’t female that we all know so well, seems to have deserted me.  She has gone AWOL and left behind, in her place, this weak willed and muscled, floppy, drooping over furniture female who is a complete stranger to me and let me tell you gets precisely nothing done!!
It was good to get away to Sydney and have a dress fitting (thank God, Adam cut the dress big is all I can say – when that feisty female left she took my waistline with her!) and have my haircut by Ilia and begin to get some sense of how this hair will be for the big day.  I also found a jewellery valuer who could do an on-the-spot evaluation of my engagement ring which was very gratifying – it’s already worth substantially more than we paid for it – so it’s doing much better than my first foray into the share market!!
Let’s hope that great Amazon warrior woman we know and love comes back soon . . . !

Mr Goanna who keeps eyeing up my chickens and their eggs!

Prone over Porcelain and Snoozing my life Away

Now I know that Little Miss has said that the farm is to be organic but we have a weed problem that is out of control and several steep banks where even the death defying George daren’t take his tractor, so there is only one thing for it – Grazon.
Of course I can’t do any spraying (or much of anything since I am so often prone on the sofa snoozing my life away!) so my brave husband-to-be has to go into the chemical fray.  We are both so conscious of the toxic fallout from these quite frankly HORRIBLE chemical soups that we would far rather not expose ourselves, and I made Ged get all the kit to protect himself.  Attractive, isn’t it?!
Little Miss appears to have had a hand in the proceeding from where she watches her potential parents as they endeavour to get her new home finished for her arrival, because not long after Ged commenced Operation Chemical Fallout I heard swearing and stripping in the front yard and found that he had come under enemy fire!  For some reason beyond my comprehension the sprayer I have used faithfully for the past few years turned traitor on its new master and blew a gasket (literally!) causing a fountain of chemical soup to deluge the one part of his body unprotected . . . his eyes.  Poor, poor love was in so much pain so we flushed and flushed and flushed, rang the poisons hotline and then laid him down with a cold flannel over his face to rest them as they recuperated.  Looks like Little Miss is going to get her way after all  . . !
It is very hard to feel enthused about the renovation while I am Little Miss Slumber and I am afraid I am falling behind.  I went to the doctor and we agreed that an ultrasound was essential to correctly date my pregnancy so we booked me in that same afternoon and Ged came to have his first peek of his little princess.  Apparently there’s a very strong heartbeat there and we are six weeks pregnant so we are in for a lot of momentous changes to our lives this  year, culminating in a new arrival at the end of September (they say 25th, I say 22nd) but I have been known to be wrong before . . . . !!
When I told Mummy she said ‘are you feeling sick yet?’ and I said in my most superior and patronising tone ‘I don’t believe in morning sickness, it’s all in the mind’.  Boy, was I wrong about that!  I never knew you could feel so sick and still stand up (although lying down is by far my best position for coping with the unrelenting nausea.  Why do they call it morning sickness  it’s from the moment I move from horizontal to halfway close to vertical in the morning, until the moment I lay my weary head down to sleep at night.  Ugh.  And what is it with the secret society of women who have borne children, that they never initiate their childless sisters into the horrors of hanging over ceramic from dawn to dusk?  I’m amazed that the world is as over-populated as it is – I can’t imagine why you’d willingly go through this more than once (even with the Australian $5,000 baby bonus and exhortations to have ‘one for you, one for Australia’!!)
Ah well, this too shall pass . . . . x

A brave dog, a tough man and a fading wife

Back to peace and quiet (I miss those kids!!) and as soon as the Grippers drove away on the next leg of their ‘Holiday Coast’ adventure, the sun disappeared, the heavens opened and the deluge resumed!

Thus we are back to parking on the ‘other side’ of the river and riding home in the Flying Fox.  Whoever is doing the winding gets a fine upper body workout, but pulling yourself across hand over hand is very wearying!  Phoenix leaps in and out with panache and daring and stays still for the crossing, and when he has to stay behind sits longingly on the platform watching until we get to our cars before he takes up his ‘watching’ position on the verandah or snuggles up on the wicker sofa for a snooze.
The only time he has braved the big waters was when the Grippers had first arrived and we all traversed the river on the fox to go for a drive up to Comboyne.  Poor Phee must have thought that there was no way his newly rediscovered friends were going anywhere without him so as the last of us stepped off the fox I heard distant yelping and had horrific visions of Phee hurtling down the rapids at the end of the House Pool so I clambered down the rocks, screaming for him.  Only to hear Angus say ‘he’s here, Sophie’ and there was a small, bedraggled, black dog with wildly waving tail jumping all over his Gripper friends having swum the raging river and clambered (somehow!) up the sheer rock face.  He’s living proof that ‘where there’s a will, there’s a way!’
George has been in tears and sick with worry because Marcia woke up one morning unable to move and he had to carry her into the bathroom etc.  She was in so much pain and he was in a complete panic.  Ged rang me and told me he’d met George on the road and heard the sorry tale so I rang and said I would go up and massage her (she has arthritis in one hip and needs a replacement but apparently they won’t do replacements on Alzheimers patients because the anaesthetic adversely affects their brain).  When I got there Marcia was in tears of pain and frustration and Mavia who lives further up the road from us and who has been looking after Marcia a day or two a week while George works had got her washed and dressed etc.  We got her on a spare bed for a massage and eased up the cramping in her thigh and calf until she was walking normally again, but the next morning the same thing happened and every time George tried to move or touch her she just screamed with pain so he called the ambulance.  Marcia was admitted to Wauchope hospital for tests and condition assessment (ie was she able to live at home) while we all counselled George that the best thing that could happen was that the authorities make the decision that he simply didn’t have the wherewithall or facilities to care for her deteriorating condition at home.  Poor George, he was lost without her.  While caring for her had been exhausting and often demeaning, she was the axis on which his world turned, and now he had no focus, no point, no pole star to guide his way.  We took him food and had him here and rang the neighbours to rally him, but it was so sad to see him, who is so strong and sure, falter on his path.
As we predicted, the powers that be decided that Marcia must be cared for in a home and she was admitted to one in Laurieton and we are trying to pick up the pieces as George grieves his wife, their married life and the end of their time together.  It is worse than death to see someone you love so much and for so long, fall apart and lose sight of themselves and all normalcy as they disappear into a fog of endless forgetfulness.  Say a little prayer for a tough man who is cracking and a beautiful woman who should be spared the humiliation of a childlike dependence in an adult body and a slow demise into dementia.  Please God, there is a better end for us all.

Slow progress and paint stripping

On New Year’s Day we left Phee with the hungover hosts and went shopping for something for Ged and his best man, Steve, to wear on the big day.  Success!  As usual, I had a vision in mind, and we managed to find the right jackets and shirt even if the pants were all the wrong sizes, but at least that gives me an on-the-phone challenge for the New Year!
Back to Avalon and work on the farm and on the house.  We were preparing for the imminent arrival of the Grippers, so Ged replaced the platform for the Flying Fox on the house side, and also made an all new ‘basket’ lining so it was solid and safe for my beloved Gripper kids.  We ordered an ‘enviro-loo’ from Brisbane which came complete with Cane Toad (oh. my. God!) and set it up in one of the old corrugated iron ‘builders bog’ that we inherited with the property.  Ged also made a sink stand and a wooden base for an ablution block out of sleepers and piped cold water to the site.  We never quite got to the hot water, but we will one day . . . .!
I stripped and sanded a little antique table I had and spent a day stripping a window – layer upon layer upon layer of paint, dating from sometime early in the last century and STILL the window is not close to being ready for painting – ugh!  I put another coat on the ceilings and painted yet more doors.  Other than that, we read some good books, went for some nice runs and enjoyed staying on the property.  The weather was glorious, the river peacable and pristine and we spent a lot of time platypus watching which was bliss (the new Flying Fox platform is the perfect platypus viewing post!)
Slow progress is being made!

The Myrtles in full bloom over Christmas.

End of a very big year

Looks like I was premature to be signing off the year in my last missive – it still had a week to run!
I have to admit that I was FOUL in the run up to Christmas (poor Ged!), over-tired, over-stretched, and as it now transpires, suffering from severe hormonal fluctuations.  I was dreading my first Christmas with the ‘out-laws’ and as always at that time of year I was homesick for the traditional rituals, aromas and rain of England.  After all, it is the traditional time for family and I wanted mine, not his!!
We opened our ‘stockings’ at home before heading off to his parents’ place which is a beautiful 400 acre farm they raise Santa Gertrudis bulls on, about 40 minutes away.  Due to a flat tyre on the way (heaven-sent!) we missed the sit down dinner and were able to have a more relaxed afternoon with a moveable feast of family members as we munched on our vegetarian lasagne.  We were embarassed to get gifts from all Ged’s nephews and nieces (I know now for next year!) and got away at a reasonable hour so we could have our ‘first Christmas’ at home.  We opened a bottle of my favourite bubbles and traded gifts – I got my long awaited handbag and a punchbag and baseball bat which now have pride of place in the garage (he knows me well!!) and I gave Ged a big A4 filofax and new halters, lead ropes and a carrot stick for his horses so we were both very spoilt.  We only managed a glass of champagne each before we were pissed . . . and so to bed!
I had invited all his family over on Boxing Day so we had a whirlwind few hours turning the building site into something vaguely resembling a home and cooking up a storm and then had a very relaxed and easy day.  The boys BBQ’d organic beef steaks and sausages from a local farm in Comboyne, and I did potato and green salads with my special vinaigrette and homemade tomato sauce which, amazingly, all the boys hoed into and loved (just goes to show, you don’t need sugar!).
The 27th was my birthday (42!) and Ged made me Queen for a day and waited on me hand and foot so I slept on the sofa all afternoon and we both just relished the peace and quiet of a day off.  Then we had to put in a couple of days of work on the house before driving down to Ged’s best friends’ annual New Year’s Eve bash on the central coast.  I swapped places with Phee on the way down – I curled up in the back of the Pajero and slept and Phee took the passenger seat and kept Ged company in the front!  To be honest we were so tired, we weren’t great company that night, although it was good to meet a lot more of his old friends.  We were clock watching ’til midnight (‘are we there yet?’) and glad to escape to our tent once the celebrations had died down a bit.  The die-hard drinkers kept going until the wee smalls, but we were safely off with the sand man . . .

The new bathroom under the Jacaranda tree . . .

Control freak, moi?

I left Ged and the plumber ripping  out the bathroom the other day.  After I had bossed them both around and got in the way I decided I had better not ask any more questions when I saw Colin drilling a hole in a strange spot in the floor.  I figured they both knew what they were doing and just had my bath outside under the jacaranda tree, revelling  in nature while they toiled.  Then I made them scrambled eggs on toast and iced coffee and left them to it.  When I came home I was thrilled to see the shower base in and to get a sense of how good my shower will be.  Then I walked into the rest of the room.  ‘Why is the toilet there” I asked.  ‘That’s where you wanted it, honey’ Ged replied.  Oh God, that is NOT where I wanted it . . . you can imagine the rest!
The upshot was that since Colin went away for the Christmas break early the next morning, Ged was given all the instructions and had to spend Saturday moving the loo . . . less than six inches to the left!!  Control freak?  Moi??
I went to Sydney and found a dress so you will be pleased to hear that I will not be fronting up at the hitching rail in my Birthday Suit on 15th March!  It’s going to be made by a fabulous gay Aussie designer called Adam Dixon who I found through a strange set of coincidences and it is exactly what I had in my head so we won’t worry about the dollars!!  Well, I got my wedding shoes at Target for $20.00 so that should offset some of the cost!!  It was good to see Shirley and Marcel and be inspired by their lovely home and it is testimony to how tired I am that I slept through all the cars and trains which create the Sydney soundscape.  I put myself through DFO (Direct Factory Outlets) which is rather like being in a huge fluoro lit maze and first it seems exciting when you come across a dead end and then you become more and more frustrated and fearful as you can’t find you way out, every way you turn is the wrong way, until you finally stumble back the way you came and stagger into the sunshine, heaving deep breaths of relief and vowing never, ever again . . . .
I went to Ikea to look at the kitchens and have found one so we will go back into the breach once more in January to find Ged a suit for the big day and bring home my country kitchen from the big smoke.
I got one of my Christmas presents early . . . I have wanted a Jersey cow ever since I read and fell in love with Colleen McCulloch’s gorgeous ‘Ladies of Missalonghi’ many years ago.  And she arrived on Friday!  She was immediately christened Daisy and when I was out trying to befriend her on Friday night I must have not fully locked in the yard gate bolt.  When Ged got up to make the tea on Saturday morning he found Daisy was long gone!  So we went hunting and eventually Ged and Phee found her hiding on the other side of the river and tried to tempt her with honey sandwiches to no avail.  So I went and played Parelli games with her for three hours until she would follow me home.  We only  had one bad moment when I decided to rope her to get her to cross the river with me and she showed me her strength by hauling me head first and bouncing on my ass through a briar patch . . . so i gave that up as a bad idea!  Bloodied and battered I persuaded to forgive me for such rudeness and love me again and she followed me home across the river, up the bank, all the way down the flat and back into the yard – good girl!!  She kisses on command and she definitely thinks I’m a cow!  She tried to mount me three times that afternoon and played head butting games with me so I had to slap her down a bit.  On Sunday we let her out again and she went off at a leisurely pace to the same spot but when I went to retrieve her a few hours later I just had to call and she came wading across the river to me and followed me home again.  We might be two mad cows together but we are very happy!
This Mad Cow is signing off for 2007.  It’s been a crazy year.  Who would have thought that my single-minded pursuit of my dream farm would bring me my best friend, my life partner and a love I’ve longed for all my life?  Who would have thought I could have found this much happiness someone who understands me and loves me anyway!!
We are in a mad push to get the house done over the holidays so Ged can start building the office and I can plan a wedding and orchestrate all the different things that have to happen at Avalon before she is on show in March.  I hope we also get some time off to enjoy each other and this land which holds and nurtures us and is our much-loved home.
Here’s love to all of you at this time of togetherness, hope and promise.  Let’s see what 2008 will bring us all . . . .

DAISY!

Ring on my finger at last!

I have a ring!  It’s very hard to take a photo of but you get the general gist – platinum rails with pink diamonds in between (channel set for the initiated) so it is pretty and practical for my life on the farm.  It has taken a bit of getting used to as I have never had a ring on that finger before, plus it is a very big step so all my commitment phobia has been playing havoc with my brain.  That and my hormones which are on a roller coaster, and creating a hair raising ride for all aboard.  Poor Ged!  He really is a saint . . .
George has gone AWOL.  Partly the fact that the slasher is still broken and sitting on the flat (I think I didn’t tell you that the blade sheared apart one day and speared one of the tyres.  George said it was ‘over use’ and I said it was ‘antiquity’!) and all this rain has kept him from us for weeks.  He couldn’t get the tractor in, he couldn’t slash, he couldn’t fence, he couldn’t clear with the root raker . . .  So we have been George-less which is always quieter, duller and less to report . . . .
I finally saw the platypus the other day.  It was midday and the first sunny day after what seems like months of rain, the river was a mud slick and I was taking advantage of the sunshine getting the washing done.  I saw movement in the river out of the corner of my eye and went to investigate.  I couldn’t believe it was him at first.  It was so out of character to be fishing in the middle of the day but there he was – ducking and diving, rolling and revelling in the day.  Presumably he, like us, had been housebound during the downpours and was catching up on his chores!  He was bigger than the only other one I’ve ever seen – about 18 inches to 2 foot long.  Amazing to have a creature that we studied in school as a rare miracle of nature living just below the house . . .
Which reminds me, we found a yabbie (crayfish to the poms!) in Angle Creek the other day so that should keep the kids occupied in March  . . .
Ged has replaced the platform for the Flying Fox so it is much safer and he and George were chopping down trees on the other side so it is now easier to get on and off at the other side.  We still need to put a new ‘floor’ in the fox itself and build a platform on the other side and then really it will be perfect!  We had the most torrential downpour on Sunday afternoon.  Incredible lightening directly overhead and we had a race against nature to get both the cars out and on the other side of the river, by the flying fox, pump some water before another mud slick came down the river (SOMEONE keeps leaving the hose on and using all the water – I can’t imagine who could be SO stupid!!) and finish the mowing which I was in the midst of.  It was a terrifying and amazing experience to be in the eye of the storm, soothing the horses under the giraffe shed.  Ged had got soaked playing with the pump and when I handed him his raincoat he just stripped off and got naked under it (we do embrace our nudity on the farm!!)
We were cooking supper when the phone rang.  One of the Comboyne dairies had sparks and smoke coming out of their sockets, so the sparky had to go out into the wilds and winch himself across the river and go to the rescue.  At 11pm I got a phone call from a woeful fiance ‘I won’t be coming home tonight’ (quite early days for THAT sort of behaviour!!) but he couldn’t get across Tom’s Creek which apparently was a raging torrent, at least a couple of feet  over the bridge and with big logs bobbing in the white water so the poor love had to go back to his old home (which I have denuded of any semblance of comfort – I made him burn it all, remember?) and sleep on the floor.  So one of the jobs over the holidays is to kit out that abode so if we get stuck again, we have somewhere to get warm, dry and rested!
We may be landlocked but we are river and creek bound!

New chooks and a python

Despite all our running around at the weekend, and George’s near naked efforts in the steamy days we have been sweltering through, the chook run wasn’t ready by the time the girls came on Monday.  We had to convert one of the old tin toilet blocks into the temporary hen house and although it isn’t the salubrious 5 star accommodation I had planned for them, they seemed more nervous and unsettled than any hens I had ever had before.  They hid in the scrub on the first day while George and I stretched the wire around and then as the rain fell consistently all week, they seemed to feel safest in their budget backpacker accommodation.  They seemed reluctant to explore or wander which I found very strange.  On Sunday we worked out why!  Ged tracked me down inside having a brief respite from the heat ‘do  you want to see a python?’, so we grabbed the camera and he led the way into the chicken run where Fred was fully extended (1.5 metres) and on track for feathered friend for tea.  Ged trapped him by the head so he could pick him up (CRIKEY!!) and we agreed to put him in the big shed to eat all the ratties and mice.
As soon as we moved the snake, the chooks relaxed.  he had obviously been up in a tree watching their every move and that’s why they were so nervous and shy.  They love to go under the house and so we hear them clucking under there during the day.
We had a busy weekend – Ged replaced the Flying Fox platform with left over tallowood so it feels rock solid and looks lovely and I was weeding, planting and digging again.  I’ve also scrubbed down the outside boards of three sides of the house ready for painting.  The weather has been either blazing sun or steamy, sultry and jungly and the rain is never far away.  The river is up and down like a yo yo so we are still flying across most of the time and even I can pull myself all the way across both ways now.
Fred obviously didn’t like living  in the garage.  When we got up on Monday morning his tail was poking out of one of the powerpoint holes in the kitchen.  His head soon followed.  Ged tried to force him out by dragging but I screamed at him to stop because he was damaging the fragile scales on Fred’s back.  So we left him to fend for himself, took Phee flying over the river with us and up to the office.  When we got home I was gingerly opening doors and cupboards, on the lookout for Fred . . . when Ged came in from locking up the chooks I indicated a strange looking stain  on the floor and he investigated . . . and found Fred snoozing happily in his sock basket!  A bit too close to my bed for comfort so Ged grabbed him again and Fred wrapped his whole length around his wrist and hand and we raced to the car and then I floored it down to Angle Creek while Ged had his circulation crushed.  Ged peeled him off and released him in the grass, but Fred had obviously taken a fancy to us and headed straight back to us so we leapt in the car before he slithered into its workings and came home again!  What would I have done without Ged???  Ugh . . . it doesn’t bear thinking about . . . Fred in my bed with me and Phee . . . !!

Ged and Fred

saga pin up boy!

Sugarglider

Phee found me a lovely treat on Monday.  We were on our run and when we got to the new Acer at The Triangle on The Other Side (I need to send maps, don’t I?) he hunkered down, intrigued by something.  I called him off, thinking it was a lizard or frog or something, but it was the most beautiful little furry angel.  Huge eyes, big, boney paws, tiny ears and sort of wings.  I thought it was a baby possum.  I was going to walk back home over the ridge with him (Mum was nowhere to be seen or smelt) when he found his own safe harbor.  He crawled up the sleeve of my long-sleeved tee and made a nest in the crook of my arm.  And there he stayed for the duration of our run!
When we got home I showed him to George who was entranced, but no closer than me to identifying him.  I put him in a box with grass and water while I performed my ablutions and then popped him back up my shirt for the winding trip up to the office.  By this time he had a name – ‘Chi Chi’ and he did quite a lot of wriggling on the jpourney, trying to find the best spot.  At one point I thought I’d lost him forever and had to stop and hunt – he was resting in the padded hammock of bra between my breasts!!  When we got to work, Ged identified him as a SUGARGLIDER and we Googled the sugarglider diet so we could take care of him, and introduced him to members of the local Comboyne community when he came to the shop with me.  As sugargliders sleep during the day, he was exhausted and preferred sleeping skin to skin with me.  When we finally went home it was dark so Chi Chi was wide awake and slipped out of my shirt and into the car.  Phee didn’t seem to care.  And when we got home I went hunting through the Pajero til his rustling in the back gave him away.  Man, they are fast!  So I decided to leave him out  of his box and in the spare room during the night so he could run and climb and fly while we slept.  Big mistake.  When we woke in the morning he was gone, I know not where.  But I have my suspicions about Phee who wouldn’t meet my eye when I was grilling him.  I had blocked up the gap under the door but maybe not well enough, or perhaps Phee spent the night creating a gap.  I guess he found him . . . but we are very sad.  He was just GORGEOUS.  Bye Bye Chi Chi.
The horses are returning to normal but we have taken hair from both of mine and Gypsy for testing by my Horse Herbalist to try and get to the bottom of the antipathy between them and we have found egg fragments in the Plover nest but so far no sign of the babies.  Mum & Dad are pretty busy defending something, though!  Every time the horses are on the river flat (normally at night) the plovers are screeching their warnings and by day they dive bomb any of us brave enough to go looking for the young.
I have been amazed by the prehistoric cicada shells decorating the trees and fence posts (and pretty much anything else that stays stationary for more than five minutes).  The shells split down the back to release the fully grown cicada and the shell remains gripping the upright – bizarre.  And if you have never been deafened by cicadas before, you are missing one of life’s most extraordinary experiences.  The high pitched buzzing screaming of a million cicadas ‘singing’ their strange and primal songs drills into your brain and swells inside your skull until madness feels moments away.  The relief when you move out of earshot is exquisite!
I have been cutting and pasting photos and being a one man band production line to get all the invites out this week so I can cross that off my pre-wedding list and get on with the next thing.  We went and interviewed two celebrants and now I can’t decide between the two . . . too many decisions to make!
Mummy very kindly paid for a Fowl House for us for Christmas.  I had spent hours on the internet trying to track down a good wooden house for my new girls and thought I’d found one and paid $250 for a removalist to bring it down from Brisbane.  It turned out to be cheap, shoddy and made of softwood which would last approximately three and a half minutes with the white ants at Avalon.  So I am embroiled in a battle to get a full refund.  Poor fools, they don’t realise that I always win in the end!