Category Archives: Snow-Gauge Clif

Farewell, Snow-Gauge Clif!

Last Wednesday, the weather gods had a little surprise for central Maine.

That’s right, snow. Just a dusting, and nothing to get too excited about.

Although I love spring, I’m always sorry to see the last of winter, and I was glad for this final (I think!) bit of snow that left its lovely print on the garden.

But by Sunday, all the snow was gone, and it is time to say farewell to Snow-Gauge Clif. There is no more snow to measure.

I know some readers are worried about what Snow-Gauge Clif will do now that his snow-measuring is done until next year. Never fear! At our home by the edge of the woods, there are jobs aplenty when the snow is gone.

Enter, Yard-Work Clif.

Even though we only own an acre of land, it seems as though there is always something that needs doing, if not in the yard, then to the house. And usually, there is much left undone when winter rolls around again. Clif has a multitude of chores to keep him busy.

With the snow gone from the yard, it was time for me to dig around my leaf-mulched garden beds to see what was what, and I got quite a little surprise. The perennials have apparently decided that, despite the dusting of snow, spring is here, a good two weeks earlier than it was back in the day. We have lived in this house for forty-two years, and I had developed a routine: raking the backyard as soon as it was dry enough—usually the middle of the month—and by the end of April or the beginning of May, start tending my beds.

But not this year. Here is what I found when I started removing the leaves from the bed in the backyard.

Now, for those of you who have flowers blooming in your garden, this probably doesn’t look very impressive. But for this central Maine gardener, it is astonishing. Not up there, perhaps, with the miracle of the loaves and fish, but pretty darned surprising nonetheless. I don’t ever remember seeing this much Iris growth so early.

Those of us who have lived and gardened in one place for many years—and I think forty-two qualifies as quite a few—have seen the changes brought about by the climate crisis, and it’s hard to get used to them.

Here’s another change: no mud this spring. In Maine, March and early April are synonymous with mud. Yes, I know. I should be grateful for a spring without mud, when I can go to the compost bin without having my shoe sucked off.

But it’s downright weird not to have mud in Maine in the spring, and it made me uneasy. Why the heck didn’t we have mud this year?

Turns out, I was right to be concerned. We didn’t have mud season this year because of two things, neither of them good for the water table: a premature melt of the snowpack and drought in 2025, which lowered the soil moisture. Fingers crossed that we get plenty of rain this summer.

Still, it’s nice to be in the yard, digging in the dirt and watching the birds come to the feeder, especially when one of them is a cardinal. For now, I’ll set my drought worries aside and enjoy being outside.

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Watching

The safe return of the spacecraft Artemis II was a joyous event for a country that hasn’t had much to celebrate lately. From the beaming astronauts—how happy they looked—to the breathtaking pictures of Earth and space, this journey to the dark side of the moon was thrilling from beginning to end.

By a happy coincidence, there is a movie out right now that celebrates space and science—Project Hail Mary, starring the great and good Ryan Gosling. The trailer will give readers who haven’t seen the movie a good sense of Project Hail Mary’s plot.

Clif and I have seen this movie twice, something we rarely do, no matter how much we like a movie. It is that rare film that is appropriate for those who are between twelve and eighty. How many movies appeal to such a broad age range? Not many, that’s for sure.

Listening

And for a little bonbon, here is “Two of Us” by the Beatles, a song that was perfectly featured in Project Hail Mary. Just happens to be one of my favorite songs by the Beatles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last Week for Snow-Gauge Clif?

Well, folks, this might very well be the last week for Snow-Gauge Clif. The backyard is essentially snow-free, and this morning, when I took a picture of Clif, he was in a celebratory mood.

The front yard has a little more snow, but not much, and this is mostly where Clif piled the snow when he scooped the driveway.

And here’s a view of the front yard.

We shall see what the rest of the week brings, but by next Monday, that little patch of snow by the lamp might very well be gone, and the dirty snow by the driveway should at least be greatly diminished. As I’m sure readers have figured out, these are heady times at our house by the edge of the woods.

As I mentioned in a previous post, time was when we hoped that the snow on the patio would be gone by April 22, my daughter’s birthday. That way, we could have a celebratory drink outside in her honor. Some years, the snow was gone by April 22; some years it wasn’t. Last week’s post on March 30 illustrated that the snow was gone, and I don’t think it’s coming back. Even if we have an April snowstorm, it won’t add up to much and will melt quickly.

Last week’s photo of the patio.

Therefore, this year, snow-out on the patio was March 30, a full twenty-four days sooner than April 22, when we hoped the patio would be clear for Shannon’s birthday.

For contrast, here is a picture of the patio taken on April 12, 2015. Eleven years ago, this was normal.  Times. Have. Changed.

Readers might be wondering why we aren’t thrilled to have snow-out sooner, in March rather than in April. To some extent, we are. But remember, we live in the land of the ice and snow, and our climate really does resemble Sweden’s. Snow in winter and spring is normal for Maine. For us, five inches is nothing to get flapped about. It takes a foot or more to make us moan.

Also, an earlier spring leads to a hotter summer. Nowadays,  temperatures sometimes rise into the mid-90s and even higher. This, we absolutely hate. If we wanted to live in a hot climate, we would move south. But we don’t. Even though some people might find our cold weather challenging, Maine’s chilly climate suits us. I don’t dream of moving south. Instead, I dream of moving north.

However, central Maine is our home, and here we will stay. Thank goodness for the heat pumps we had installed last June. Not only do they not require fossil fuels to run, but they also keep the house nice and cool on unbearably hot and humid days.

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Looking

Art: Saltmarsh Moonrise by David Morgan

Last week, we met friends for drinks and a bite to eat at the Maine Evergreen Hotel in Augusta, where there is art for sale on every floor. Two weeks ago, our daughter Dee, an art lover extraordinaire, bought two paintings. Last week, she bought a very beautiful print, Saltmarsh Moonrise, by David Morgan.

Unfortunately, my phone camera did not capture this print well. My apologies. For a better view of this stunning picture, click here to go to Morgan’s website and scroll down.

Dee has all her new pictures hanging in her room—what lovely additions!—and she is done buying art.

At least for now.

 

 

 

 

And Away It Goes!

For those who don’t live in northern New England, it might seem as though Spring is taking her own sweet time to get here. But for Mainers, things are moving very fast indeed.

As a visual aid, here is a picture of the backyard last week.

Looks like a winter wonderland, doesn’t it? Except that the picture was taken on March 23, which is officially spring in the northern hemisphere.

But Spring hasn’t forgotten us after all. Here is the backyard this week, featuring Snow-Gauge Clif.

For this Mainer, that snow melted pretty darned fast.

And look! The snow on the patio is completely gone. Time was when we hoped it would be clear by April 22, our daughter Shannon’s birthday. Now, it often melts by the end of March, and somehow, I have a hard time wrapping my head around this. It just doesn’t seem normal, even though this has been the case for several years.

While the backyard is mostly snow-free, there are still patches by the shady side of the house where the ferns grow in the summer.

Now to the front yard, where there is more snow.

But even in the front yard, the snow has gone down a lot. Here is a longer view.

When will the snow be gone from the front yard? Hard to say. It all depends on how warm it gets, whether it rains, and—dare I mention it?—whether we get another snowstorm. And yes, Maine sometimes gets April snowstorms, which tend to be wet, heavy, and nasty.

One thing is certain: there is excitement aplenty at our home by the edge of the woods.

So stay tuned.

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Looking

Last week, I featured one of the paintings Dee bought at the Maine Evergreen Hotel in Augusta when we met friends and celebrated our 49th wedding anniversary. Dee bought two paintings, and here is the second one: a delicate pen-and-watercolor by Kate Casparius, quite different from the bold owl. Unfortunately, the camera on my phone doesn’t do this lovely painting justice. But it does give readers a sense of the range of work available at the Evergreen.

This Thursday, we will be meeting friends at the Evergreen, and Dee plans to buy a third painting.

Again, stay tuned.

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Watching

Documentary: Herb and Dorothy, Available on YouTube

Dee is crazy about art and buys a piece whenever she can afford it. So far, although some has spilled out to the rest of the house, there is room on the walls in her room for most of her art.

However, when it comes to buying art, some folks have less restraint than Dee. Enter Herb and Dorothy Vogel, a postal worker and a librarian, whose passion for art exceeded that of most everyday folks. In the 1960s, they decided that they could live on one salary and buy art with the other. And boy did they ever buy art. Their small New York City apartment was crammed full of it to the point where they had to get rid of their sofa to make room for more art.

If you haven’t already seen the documentary about this charming, generous, obsessed couple, do yourself a favor and watch Herb and Dorothy. In a world that is often crabbed and stingy, the Vogels stand out as a shining example of the best of what people can be, even if most of us don’t want to stuff that much art into our homes. Slight spoiler: The Bowdoin College Museum of Art in Maine has been the beneficiary of their generosity.

Trust the birds

Yesterday, March gave us one of its famous spring surprises—a wet, heavy snowstorm.

Here is yesterday’s view from the living room’s side window.

Being Mainers, we took the storm in stride. There are plenty of things to do inside, and the older we get, the longer it takes us to get them done. We always start the New Year with so many hopeful plans—decluttering, painting, patching—but we’re lucky if we get one-quarter of the projects done. Ditto for outside work when the weather warms up. We try not to let this bother us too much and to accept, with grace, the limits of our aging bodies. And mostly we do. But, darn, I would like to get a few more projects finished in any given season.

This morning, wearing boots and heavy coats, Clif and I headed outside for snow-gauge pictures.

As you can see, the snow is not gone as some readers thought it might be this week.

Not in the front yard,

and not in the backyard.

By Clif’s estimate—and I think he is right—the storm brought us five inches of snow. Because it is March, clean-up will be minimal: the front porch, most of the driveway, the cars. The snow on the front walkway and on the paths in the backyard will soon melt. No need to tend to them. That is the good thing about March in Maine. The snow never sticks around for very long.

And I do like the fetching bonnet the light in the front yard is wearing.

As I was taking pictures, I could hear the mighty chittering of the birds as they came to our backyard feeders. They can sense changes are coming, even if the ground is covered with snow once again.

“Trust the birds,” I said to myself.

After all, they know.

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Looking

Great Horned Owl by Barbara Chase

Thanks to you all for the many anniversary wishes. As several of you noted, next year will be a big one, and Clif and I are thinking about how to celebrate. It will most likely be in a simple way, because that’s how we roll, with a couple of special twists thrown in. Anyway, we have a year to plan,

In my last post, I mentioned that Dee bought some art at the Maine Evergreen Hotel in Augusta, Maine. On yesterday’s snowy Sunday, she hung them in her room, and here is a picture of one of them, a Great Horned Owl by Barbara Chase. (Next week, I’ll feature the other one she bought.)

Dee is not only keen on art but also on owls, and now she has one more for her collection.

 

 

 

March 9-15 in Photos: Sun, Stormy Weather, Snow-Gauge Clif, Ice Cream

The week started out with what was—for Maine in March—an astonishing temperature. It’s been a long time since it was that warm outside. Probably not since last September or October. However, since I don’t record the temperature on a daily basis, I’m not really sure.

In our backyard, there was the story of the incredible shrinking snow.

But, wait. This is March in Maine. Winter was not quite done with us, and we had a nice little snowstorm that left us with about three inches.

After so many years of living in Maine, we took the snow in stride. And while the temp never reached 70° again, the snow didn’t stick around.

By Sunday, when it was time for Snow-Gauge Clif to do his thing, here’s what the backyard looked like.

While the front yard has more snow, there’s been a definite reduction. And, look! Despite the March snowstorm, the driveway is nearly clear.

With temps in the 40s, we decided that once Snow-Gauge Clif had dispatched his duties, we would cap off this fine day with a trip to Fielder’s Choice for an ice cream.

On the way, we saw a sap bucket, a sure sign of spring.

This inspired me to get a maple sundae—maple walnut ice cream drizzled with maple syrup. No, it was not too sweet. As a matter of fact, I don’t remember ever having a dessert that was too sweet, and the sundae was good to the last bite.

What will next week bring, I wonder. I’m not sure about the weather. Unfortunately, a wind storm is predicted. But also something festive at the end of the week.

Stay tuned.

 

 

 

 

 

Marchy March and Snow-Gauge Clif

How things change from one week to another. Last week, it still looked and felt like winter—the air was cold, and the snow sparkled. But Spring has her eyes on us, and yesterday, the temperature shot up to 60°F.  Holy cats, it was so warm that I went outside without a jacket.

Now that we have entered this time purgatory in Maine, the snow is no longer lovely and sparkling. Instead, it’s packed down hard, and the snow banks…well, the snowbanks look like this:

But nearly every place has its challenging months—maybe Hawaii doesn’t?—and in Maine, we must suffer through March to get to April, when Spring truly begins.

Still, even in this soggy, dirty time, there are hopeful signs that Spring is just around the corner. The other day, I heard the male cardinal singing his spring song. Such a lovely sound. And the ice on the pathways has started to melt, making walking on them so much easier.

Now to Snow-Gauge Clif.

We have decided that while Clif’s snow gauge might be charming, it is not, ahem, the most accurate way to measure snow.  There’s a solid wedge of snow between the top cover and the ground, and the snow gauge can’t break through that wedge. Therefore, the snow gauge will be used as a visual cue rather than as an accurate measurement tool.

In the front yard, the snow hasn’t melted much, but the driveway is much clearer. Progress!

Here he is in the sunnier backyard, where we are seeing some more progress, at least on the pathways.

Rain is in the forecast for this week, and perhaps it will wear some of the snow away in our shady yard. However, March often has a sneaky way of bringing us wet, heavy snowstorms that can knock out power.

So only time will tell! Stay tuned for next week with Snow-Gauge Clif.

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Watching

Movie: It Was Just an Accident, an Oscar nominee for Best Foreign Film

The 2026 Academy Awards ceremony will be televised next Sunday, March 15. As movie buffs, we are always interested in seeing nominated films, and although we never manage to see them all, we do a pretty good job of seeing most. This week, It Was Just an Accident was on our roster. To borrow from an old saying, better late than never. As it turned out, this Iranian film was my absolute favorite of the year.

Now, I am certainly aware of the significance of my choice. After all, the U.S. is pounding the crap out of Iran, which in turn is pounding the crap out of its neighbors. A horrible, brutal mess with implications that might be with us for a long while.

But I did not choose It Was Just an Accident because of its political significance. Instead, I loved this movie because of the skill of its director, Jafar Panahi—his humanism, his humor, and his wisdom in telling what is essentially a grim story.

A brief synopsis: A man, Eghbal, and his family are driving on a dark road at night. First, he runs over and kills a dog, then his car breaks down. He brings it to a local garage to be fixed. Eghbal has a prosthetic leg, and when one of the mechanics, Vahid, hears it squeak as Eghbal walks, this sets off a chain of events. Vahid is certain he remembers that awful squeak from when he was in an Iranian prison, and that this is the man who tortured him.

Determined to kill Eghbal, Vahid kidnaps him and plans to bury him alive. But when Eghbal insists he is innocent, Vahid begins to have doubts. Knocking Eghbal out, Vahid stuffs him into a large box in his van and sets out to find others who might be able to confirm that this is indeed the right man.

What follows is a darkly comic series of events as Vahid acquires a group of folks who have been tortured by a man with a squeaky prosthetic leg. But is it this man? They were all blindfolded when they were tortured, and no one saw his face.

One of the funniest scenes is when Vahid is approached by security guards who demand a bribe to let him and his cohorts go on their way. The guards are unaware that Eghbal is hidden in the van. When Vahid tells the guards he has no cash, one of them whips out a credit card reader, and all is well.

At the same time, this movie is no spoof, and it addresses serious issues—mercy, guilt, brutality, vengeance, and memory. Each character feels fully rounded rather than a type. Really, I cannot recommend this film enough. It Was Just an Accident is available on Hulu and can also be rented on Prime Video, Apple TV, and YouTube.

Do see it if you have a chance.

 

 

 

 

And He’s Back—Snow-gauge Clif: March 3, 2026

I know this is the time of year many of you look forward to: Starting in March, at the beginning of each week, Clif goes out with his trusty red snow gauge to measure the snow until it is gone from our yard. Usually, sometime in April, but with climate change, it’s hard to predict.

Weather-wise—but certainly not politically—it has been a good winter for central Maine. It has even been what you might call an old-fashioned winter, with fluffy snow, a decent amount on the ground, and few horrible windstorms to knock out the power. It is the kind of winter I remember from my childhood in Waterville, about twenty-five miles from where I live now. Yes, this year we have had to cancel some activities because of the weather, but that is winter in Maine, and it is to be expected. It has been colder than average, but you can’t have everything. If our country were going as well as this central Maine winter is, then we would be in pretty good shape.

So drumroll, please, as Snow-Gauge Clif makes his first appearance of the 2026 season.

Here he is in the front yard.

You can see by his solemn expression that Snow-Gauge Clif takes his job very seriously. Amount of snow: 17 inches.

And here he is in the backyard, where we get more sun. Amount of snow: 12 inches.

While I was tottering around outside, I took a couple more pictures.

One of the back bed, where the dried hydrangeas and the garden ornament make a pretty foreground to the woods in the back.

And then one looking down, as I have to do on our icy paths around the house. This time of year, there are always some interesting little tidbits that have blown from the trees surrounding our yard. I did not arrange the leaf and the evergreen sprig. That is nature’s arrangement.

Stay tuned for more of Snow-Gauge Clif!

 

Zero, Zero, Farewell?

Even though it was spitting snow as I typed this post, I think the time has truly come to say farewell to Snow-Gauge Clif.

Snow depth in the front yard: Zero.

Snow depth in the backyard: Zero.

I know some of you might be wondering what Snow-Gauge Clif will do with no snow to measure. Worry not.

We have Hedge-Trimmer Clif.

There will also be Rake-the-Yard Clif and Paint-the-House Clif. And as the late, great Kurt Vonnegut might have said, so it goes.

While I love spring and the new growth it brings, I am always sorry to say farewell to winter. I am, after all, a northern woman. Born and raised in Maine, I have winter and short days in my blood.

But speaking of days…patio days are just around the corner, and that is indeed something to look forward to.

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Watching

Movie: Princess Mononoke
Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki

I am a huge fan of Hayao Miyazaki. His animated films are not only filled with magic but often feature strong, sensitive portrayals of girls and women. (Kiki’s Delivery Service, Spirited Away, Howl’s Moving Castle.)

My favorite Miyazaki  film is Princess Mononoke, and I think it’s fair to consider it his masterpiece. The hand-drawn animation—a Miyazaki trade mark—is achingly beautiful, and the movie’s environmental theme of human needs versus the destruction of the natural world is as relevant today as it was in 1997 when the film came out.

Last week, my daughter Dee discovered Princess Mononoke would be playing at Regal, our local cineplex, and on Sunday we went to see it on the big screen, which is how it should be watched. IMAX would be even better, but our Regal doesn’t offer IMAX. Never mind. It was a visual delight to see Princess Mononoke on the large screen at Regal.

Along with exquisite animation, Princess Mononoke also has complex characters, especially the inhabitants of Iron Town, who are more than one-dimensional villains intent on pillaging natural resources. But naturally my sympathies were with Prince Ashitaka and Princess Mononoke as they tried to save the Forest of the Gods from the encroachment of the humans of Iron Town. The ending of the movie is somewhat surprising and offers a note of hope that we in 2025 would do well to heed.

If Princess Mononoke comes to a theater near you, don’t hesitate to see it.

And He’s Back!

Last Monday, when there was no snow for Snow-Gauge Clif to measure, I wondered if he might be back the following Monday. After all, in Maine in March anything can happen. Snow was in the forecast for last Tuesday, and the weekend promised to be horrible with more snow—six inches—and worst of all, freezing rain that could knock out large swaths of power in central and southern Maine.

Being sensible Mainers, we prepared. Clif got more bricks of wood from a local hardware and farm store. When he went to the grocery store, he stocked up on canned soup. Water in buckets down cellar? Check. Propane for the camp stove? Check. Lamp oil? Check yet again. We were ready.

But every once in a while, the weather gods are on our side. While we got about three inches of snow and some rain, none of it was freezing, and we did not lose our power. Happy, happy day!

As soon as we realized the weather wasn’t as bad as predicted, we settled into an enjoyable weekend at home.

We played cooperative board games.

While we played, the snow fell softly, and in the dining room, we were surrounded by a snowy afternoon, which I love, even in March.

On Saturday night, we watched the excellent Michael Clayton, a 2007 movie about a world-weary lawyer (George Clooney) whose firm is mixed up with U-North, a company that makes a carcinogenic weed killer that kills people as well as weeds. (The resemblance to Monsanto is not a coincidence.) Unlike most environmental thrillers, the story focuses on the conversations between the lawyers—mostly men—and their reactions and decisions. In short, the story is told sideways. Without the wonderful cast and script, the movie would have landed with a thud. Instead, it soared. Such a good movie. If you haven’t seen it in a while, Michael Clayton is worth a rewatch. And if you’ve never seen the movie, well, do watch it.

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Sunday Morning

And lo and behold! On Sunday morning there was enough snow for  Snow-Gauge Clif to measure.

Three inches in the front yard.

Three inches in the backyard.

Will there be any snow for Snow-Gauge Clif to measure next week? Only the weather gods know.

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A Big Dose of Cute

In these uncute times, I have been looking for things to make me smile, and in doing so, I came upon Rico, a Brazilian porcupine who lives at the Cincinnati Zoo in Ohio. Like many people, I have mixed feeling about zoos. Even at their best, they can seem like jails for animals. But, dang, I enjoy seeing Rico on Youtube, and I expect zoo visitors enjoy seeing him in person. What I really like is to watch Rico eat, especially popcorn. (I am a huge popcorn fan.) In the video below, he is celebrating National Popcorn Day. I love his little claws, his puffy nose, and his black-bead eyes.  Somehow, I find it soothing to listen to those little crunching sounds he makes when he eats.

Chew on, Rico. Chew on.

 

Au Revoir, Snow-Gauge Clif?

This post’s title should give a clue as to how much snow is in our yard. The answer? Not much. Just the tiniest clumps here and there in the shady parts of the yard.

Now for the grand totals.

The front yard:  0 inches

The backyard: 0 inches.

Just for fun, here’s a shot of the patio: All clear!

But even though the snow seems to be gone, Clif still has his snow gauge at the ready. Today, most of Maine is under a weather advisory with a forecast of up to five inches of snow in our area. So you never know. Next week, Snow-Gauge Clif just might be back to measure the snow.

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Last Wednesday, March 19, was a special day for Clif and me—we celebrated our forty-eighth wedding  anniversary. Really? Forty-eight years? We both agreed on how it seemed like a lot of years and not much time at all. Time is a funny thing, which is no doubt why I like to write about timey-wimey things in my novels. It always fascinates me how time is felt and how it actually passes. And what if we could go back in time? Hoo-boy, could we ever be ready for the future? I doubt it. Still, it’s fun, at least for me, to consider the possibilities.

After our daughter Dee got out of work for the day, we headed to Wei-Li in Auburn to have a tasty meal of Chinese food, a favorite cuisine for all of us.

Here we are, Ma & Pa, waiting for our food. When we met, my hair was almost black and darker than Clif’s, which was brown. Now, we seem to be a matched pair.

Soon our food came, and how good it was. We had rice, vegetable lo mein, and general tofu.

After all that good food, we were too full for dessert.

Now, onward to forty-nine years, and the year after that? Holy cats, fifty!

Hardly seems possible. Yet here we are, and I’m glad of it.

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Listening

NPR Tiny Desk Concert: Waxahatchee

I am a big fan of both alternative music and country/Americana. Waxahatchee, with its lead singer Katie Crutchfield, gives me both. I also like how her voice always seems to be on the edge of going out of control but never does. Finally, the sadness of the songs really speaks to me right now.