Hi, everyone. Long time no see. WordPress has changed and I hate it. But I hate everything.
I hate that my mom got sick and got locked up in the hospital and evicted from her home and her car repossessed and all her money taken from her. I hate the people who are responsible for that.
I hate that my car broke down and we’re not going to replace it any time soon. I hate that I cannot go anywhere unless I leave my kids at home.
I hate that my head hurts and the doctor told me to RELAX.
I hate when people don’t return my calls. I hate when people call.
I hate life. Living HURTS. I hate living in constant pain with small children whining and yelling and no end in sight.
I’m going to take some more advil and pray as though God exists.
Today we finished hike number eight of the Summit MetroParks Fall Hiking Spree. That means we’re done! Yay! All the confetti! But virtual confetti, because we don’t want to litter.
It was only in the 50’s today and overcast, which is not optimal fall hiking weather for me. (If it’s 50 and cloudy in the spring, I’m cavorting in the fresh air like I’ve never seen the sky before.) I wanted to get the final hike in before the time change this weekend since I am secretly a grandma who hates driving in the dark.
We hiked the Seneca Trail at the Seiberling Nature Realm. The nature center here is fun, but of course it was closed today. The flush toilets and sinks were open, though! (I will use an “abyss” toilet when I need to, but I don’t have to like it.)
On the way to the trail is a pond, and near the pond is a bench. Near the bench, in the trees and on the path, we saw so many birds– cardinals, chickadees, nuthatches, blue jays, and tufted titmice. I remarked to the kids that someone must have been sitting there feeding them earlier.
Hmmm. Foreshadowing, perhaps?
So we hiked and it was a beautiful trail. I declared it one of my favorites. The fall colors are maybe a little past peak but still pretty.
The aforementioned pond. Me and my beautiful photobomber. There was a pretty big drop-off here. We are gathered here today…
After finishing the hike, I asked the kids if they wanted to go back to the bird spot, sit really still on the bench, and maybe see the birds up close. Thomas said no, but everyone else wanted to, so we did.
As we approached the bench, Thomas said sadly, “Oh, there’s already people there!” As we got closer, we could see there was a man sitting there with bird seed in his hand and a woman next to him with a camera. The birds were eating seed right from his hand!
Another family was approaching them from the other direction so we stayed off a ways and watched from a distance. The man gave them some seed, saying it was time for him to go.
As the couple came to pass us near the pond, I told the man how we had noticed the birds before and guessed that someone had been feeding them. I said next time we would have to bring some bird seed! He said, “Oh, here, I’ll give you this!” and handed me an entire Ziploc bag of bird seed.
We went further down the path as he instructed (since the other family was still at the bench and the birds don’t like crowds), but really we just hung there and waited for the other family to leave. Once they were far enough away, we went to the bench. And then the magic happened.
You’ve seen Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds? “Feed the Birds” from Mary Poppins? The pigeon lady in Home Alone 2? This was nothing like any of that.
We sat still and quietly, hands full of seed. Timidly, they came. Slowly at first, then more quickly once they saw we could be trusted. (Well, most of us. One of us kept trying to pet them.)
Thomas fed more than anyone else! Sam liked the chipmunks best but fed a few birds, too. Serious business, of course. That blur is a bird! So cool!
We sat there for a long time. Everyone was reluctant to go, especially Thomas. It was such a peaceful thing, to watch these beautiful, delicate creatures so closely. So thank you, kind stranger, for the bird seed. It was genuinely one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.
So hard to take a selfie with five people in front of a drop-off!
I’m so tired but vacation was weeks ago and I need to get this finished!
Wednesday was our last day, the day we had to check out of the cabin and head home. But we still had lots of fun planned before leaving! I was stressed about having to be out of the cabin by 11 am (we’re not morning people), but we did it.
The breakfast table
Before heading out for more hiking, the husband cooked the best breakfast I have ever had. The secret is cooking the sausage in the bacon grease. I ask him to make it again every chance I get. So good.
First on the schedule for today was Old Man’s Cave. It’s the most popular area and with good reason. It’s absolutely breathtaking. I had read that, because of its popularity, especially since this has been the summer of getting outdoors for SO many people, it would be less crowded early in the morning. I hoped it wouldn’t be too bad in the afternoon since it was a weekday. It was more crowded than we are used to when we go hiking closer to home, and we did choose to wait and let quicker-moving groups pass us sometimes, but it wasn’t as bad as I’ve seen in pictures from weekends. Thank goodness! No one wants to hike in a crowd.
Grandma Gatewood was a fascinating woman. Read about her if you haven’t!Cool (and a little scary) bridgeLong and dark tunnel. We had flashlights!My old man quite liked it. “Look like an old man!”Under the stairs like trolls
While we were exploring down on the trails, we heard some very ominous thunder. We didn’t really have a choice, so we continued on the trails, but chose not to take the longer route to the lower falls area. As we came back up, we started getting rained on. By the time we reached the visitors center, it was pouring. We took refuge under the steps.
When the rain slowed, we headed back to the van and decided it was a perfect time to go see Ash Cave. The waterfall there, as with the others, is very rain-dependent.
Face puddleHeavy liftingPretending they’re exhausted from walking in the desertA pretty poor picture of a spectacular area. Seriously you should probably just google.
At some point on this day we got ice cream. On our travels to various spots, we kept passing this little general store that advertised 33 flavors… or was it 43? I don’t remember. Anyway, we went once and the power was out so they were closed. Then we were looking for it and couldn’t find it. THEN we finally happened to find it, stopped, and found that their ice cream machine had been affected by the previous night’s power outage and all they had was a freezer full of prepackaged ice cream treats. Still delicious.
At this point we were headed for the beach at Lake Hope. On the way we passed Hope Iron Furnace, which I had read about and then forgot about. We drove past and husband was like, “WHOA, WHAT WAS THAT?” So we turned around and waited while he geeked out a little bit.
So excited to see a giant stone thing. Geeking out.
Next was the beach! Tiniest beach I’ve ever seen and also apparently a prime spot for algal blooms. Fun anyway. I didn’t take many pictures because I was too busy being a vigilant parent.
Right before we left and I realized I had no pictures
After leaving the beach, Evelyn asked if we were going to another hike, and I said no. The lie detector proved that was a lie. Well, not really a lie. I didn’t intend for it to be another hike.
The last stop before going home was the Moonville Tunnel. It’s rumored to be haunted, if you go for that stuff, but I heard it was cool regardless. The road to Moonville is mostly one way, curvy, hilly… basically DEADLY. I gripped the door handle the entire way. I would like to say that I would have turned around if I had been driving, but the truth is, I couldn’t have. There wasn’t room. It was just as treacherous on the way out. I’m not anxious to go back there EVER AGAIN.
My downloaded map said the short and easy trail to the tunnel started right before the bridge. So we got to the bridge, backed up, pulled off, and parked. The “trail” was only about a foot wide and surrounded on both sides by dense vegetation. Sure, to some this might be considered a trail, and I’ve hiked trails like it before, but from all my reading, the trail to Moonville was one that could be done easily and quickly. In fact, Melonie and I were wearing sandals.
I wanted to get back in the van and drive a little farther. I had a feeling this couldn’t be right. But husband insisted we head forward. He had done no research, but based on the surroundings, he just had a feeling we were close to the tunnel. We hiked on, at risk of bug bites, snake bites, and impending spouse-on-spouse violence (if only I could have caught up to him!). Finally he said for everyone to wait there and he would go a few steps ahead. If the tunnel wasn’t right there, we could head back.
And wouldn’t you know, as we emerged from the wilderness, there it was, on the left. And on the right, a gravel path leading to a parking lot. Curse you, Pinky the Chihuahua.
Smiling because I didn’t have to harm my husband and because we could take the road back.
It was a super cool place and would have been worth it if we had parked at the small parking lot and walked the short gravel path instead of traversing the narrow jungle path. It’s very dark inside and was fun to explore. There’s apparently a stable nearby that does trail rides through. (Ask Thomas’s shoe how we know.)
After taking the road back to the van and checking each other for ticks, we were back on the one-lane highway of DOOM, in search of my first Dr Pepper of the day and a fast food parking lot dinner.
We got home extremely late that night because we always get home late from everywhere. It was a very fun trip and if you haven’t been to Hocking Hills, I highly recommend it (if that wasn’t obvious). I don’t know if we will get to go back, but I hope so. It’s just a little bit long to drive down and back in one day, and there’s too much to see in so little time, anyway.
School has started this week, and things are hectic. It will get better. But since I have my laptop out, I might as well give you a quick rundown of day two of our vacation to Hocking Hills!
As I mentioned, our huge cabin had three bathrooms, one on each floor. The main floor bathroom had a much bigger mirror than we have at home, and I was able to see all my hair! I took a picture. (Well, maybe more than one, but I’ll spare you the rest.)
Closing in on knee length!
First on the schedule for the day was the petting zoo, not far from our cabin. The kids were excited to see the all the goats and the brand new donkey. I was excited because it was super cheap. I had checked their schedule weeks beforehand and noted on my extensive vacation spreadsheet that they were closed on Wednesdays. This being a Tuesday, you can imagine my surprise when the place was deserted. Animals were milling about the farmyard, but no sign of humans to take our money.
Apparently the hours had changed with the approaching change of seasons. Despite my pleas to the husband, the kids put quarters in the outdoor dispensers and fed the… well, the kids. I felt so illegal! I kept waiting for someone to come down the lane, guns a-blazing, yelling at us to get our lily-livered farm-squatting goat-loving tookuses off their land, but it never happened.
Farm squatters
From there, I called the KOA and made sure the gem mine was open. Thankfully they had not had a recent change of hours. This was probably my husband’s favorite part of the trip. If you’ve never done it, I recommend it. We got a large bucket of dirt and the kids (and husband) got to sort through and find the gems. Everyone got a little ziploc bag to keep their gems in.
Next, it was time for some hiking! This, of course, is the draw of Hocking Hills, after all. We decided to go to Rock House. For some reason, it’s always been Sam’s dream to eat a muffin in a cave. I don’t know why. Years ago, we went to Mary Campbell Cave and ate some muffins, but Mary Campbell Cave is not a true cave and so his dream had not yet been realized. We headed to Rock House with mini muffins in our bag.
Rock House
The advice is to bring flashlights since Rock House is fairly dark inside, with an uneven bottom that water pools in and cool formations on the walls that you otherwise wouldn’t see. Also it’s important to be able to see your muffins.
Muffins in a caveNot a trail. Duh.
This was not an easy hike. There are lots of steps coming out of the Rock House, with a drop off on one side. When we went down, there was a group of three ladies, probably in their 70’s, asking if this was the right way. They were nervous, but wouldn’t you know, they did make it down! Inspiration to me, for sure! I hope I still hike when I’m 70.
It was approaching dinner time, so we decided I would go to Walmart and get some burgers and hot dogs to cook at the cabin. As soon as we parked at Walmart, it started to downpour. I hurried in and wandered around, managing to find everything we needed plus souvenir shirts.
We got back to the cabin and just as we were deciding whether to cook on the stove or outside on the grill, the decision was made for us as the power went out. We hadn’t intended to stay in a rustic cabin, but we got a small taste of that anyway! Secretly I was pleased. I love storms anyway, and all this rain meant we would have a better chance at seeing waterfalls. Sometimes in the late summer they can be very small or nonexistent.
View out the back
When the rain stopped, we cooked our dinner outside, since the power outage rendered our electric stove useless. The burgers were not excellent. Too much charcoal. The hot dogs were passable.
Then, since it was getting late, I decided we would go hike Cedar Falls. It’s a quick hike down and back up, and the falls is the biggest in water volume.
Well it’s a nice one of Sam, anywayEveryoneAnd no one.
After this, we went back to the cabin. I was a bit nervous to see if our power was back on, but as we got closer, we saw lights on at neighboring cabins. Yay! It was back on. I would not have wanted to deal with four kids trying to sleep in an unfamiliar place during a power outage. We cooked s’mores at the fire pit, and then we all spent our last night in the cabin sleeping so much better than the night before.
Next up, our last day in Hocking Hills. More rain, more hiking, and maybe finally some ice cream! Stay tuned…
Way down deep in the moist, cobwebby corner of the supply closet of my brain is a dusty, musty memory. I’m probably only three or four years old, in my grandparents’ coffee- and cedar-scented basement, where the relatives have gathered to view ancient family vacation slides that I am not in and therefore do not care about.
It is a universal truth that no one wants to see slides of someone else’s vacation, even if it’s their dearest friend who happens to be quite witty and the scenery is just breathtaking, despite the pictures being taken on a cell phone. In truth, I’m writing this more for my own memories than anything else. But stick around if you’re interested.
Ah, so you’re staying?
Welcome to my slideshow presentation.
Like everyone else in America and probably the world, the stress of you-know-what (okay, fine, for the sake of posterity, COVID, it’s the COVID, there I said it) was really getting to us. A vacation wasn’t in the plan when the year started, but all the little day trips, to the zoos, museums, amusement parks, had to be canceled. And so, like everyone else, we made a plan to escape civilization.
Hocking Hills is always on those lists. “Only in Your State.” “50 Places to See Before You Die.” “Freaking Huge Flights of Stairs in the Woods.” Hiking enthusiast and lover of waterfalls that I am, I had wanted to go for some time and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. I did tons of research, made many spreadsheets, and booked a cabin.
Monday was spent mostly packing, driving, eating in parking lots, checking tires, all that boring but necessary stuff. We arrived at the cabin around 6:00 and made ourselves at home. Two full floors plus a loft! Air hockey! THREE bathrooms! The entire length of our stay, no one ever had to wait for the bathroom. It was miraculous.
Not so miraculous? The sleeping. I am not used to central air, my girls are not used to bunk beds, my family are not used to being so spread out. Here at home, I can hear if someone so much as coughs in the middle of the night. I tried to sleep in the girls’ room in case they woke up and needed me, but I only slept about two and a half hours that first night.
I’ve never been able to sleep well away from home. But in my younger years, I handled a lack of sleep much better than I do now. Thankfully I slept much better the second night, and I heard everyone else did, too.
Pictures! I took way more than this, but since you were so kind to hang around, I’ll stick to the highlights. Honestly, this cabin was so beautiful, if we ever go back, I’d love to stay the same place.
One of many pit stops
Home away from home
Party of one
Bunked
So relaxing
In the next post, we may or may not have broken into a petting zoo, “roughed it” more than we intended, and took a hike! Stay tuned…
I debated on posting pictures of smiling faces and pretending everything was just peachy, but I’m not a liar. Â
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The weeks… no, the MONTHS leading up to this birthday have been some of the most difficult for me, emotionally. There have been many, many days I wished I could stay in bed crying. Of course, that helps nobody, so I get up, slap on a smile, and do what I have to do, day after day and week after week. Â
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My beach trip last year was wonderful, but it became clear that it wouldn’t be possible to take the same trip this year. Masks on the beach? No thank you. Â
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So I had a choice. I could stay at home and celebrate as much or as little as I chose, or I could go somewhere else. I decided last night to go for a hike today. Thank you to the people who chose to make me feel bad about my decision. I will remember that feeling always. The gift that keeps giving. Â
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Now, I don’t know what I thought “Ledges” meant in the phrase “Whipps Ledges.” I went to Nelson Ledges as a kid and thought it was awesome. Climbing over rocks, squeezing through narrow passages, jumping over cracks in the rock that were just wide enough to be challenging and just high enough to be threatening. I loved the danger. But as an adult, I took my kids to Twinsburg Ledges and never at any point did I think anyone was going to die.Â
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Whipps Ledges is more like Nelson Ledges. Lots of rocks to climb over and steep drop-offs. It’s not a place you want to visit if you have young kids, in my opinion. Of course, it didn’t occur to me before going there to check up on the terrain. I’m sure I could have found some info on the web that would have persuaded me to go elsewhere or, better yet, stay the heck home and eat your ice cream cake. Â
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It was the toughest hike I’ve been on as an adult. I lost my way. I lost my water bottle. I lost my interest in going hiking ever again, really. Â
I wish I could slap on a happy face, chalk it up to experience, and call the day a partial success. Maybe with time, I’ll be able to remember this day happily. But for the moment, I’m just glad it’s over.
This Sunday, will I be going to church? No.
Will I be going out to lunch? No.
Will I get to see any friends or family that I don’t live with? No.
This Sunday is my birthday and I will be “celebrating” the day at home.
Last year the kids and I went to the beach and it was so wonderful, I declared it to be a new birthday tradition. So much for that.
And yet it seems, judging by social media and traffic patterns in my neighborhood, that most people *would* go to the beach to celebrate a birthday. They *would* go to a restaurant with friends and family. They *would* go to church.
What’s the difference? Why them and not me? It’s the same as it’s always been. I’m a rule-follower.
Regardless of your personal opinions about the pandemic, the rules (whether legally enforceable or just strongly-worded recommendations) are pretty clear. And regardless of my personal opinions, I follow those rules. I cover my face everywhere except my own house. I try not to get close to people (easy). I try to get people to stay the heck away from me (harder). And mostly I stay home.
But it seems like a lot of people are rule-breakers, just like they always have been. The girl from high school who lied about being in a service org so she could get into the National Honor Society is now putting on a trendy, printed mask and going on an out-of-state vacation with everyone she doesn’t live with, then coming home, ignoring travel-related quarantine restrictions, and going back out to her job.
Is she going to singlehandedly cause an outbreak of the virus and kill innocent thousands? I don’t know or care. But she’s a rule-breaker.
Some might say I’m jealous and they would be absolutely right. It doesn’t matter if I believe masks save lives or if I believe I should be able to see my friends and family. The rules have been made and they should be followed. Most people are fine breaking them, but I can tell you, Murphy’s Law or whatever, if I broke the rules, bad things would happen to me. I’d get fined or jailed or sick… I’m not an exception.
And what really stinks is, I’m going to lose people in my life who are important to me. I really do suspect everyone is hanging out without me. Now, most of the time I wouldn’t be included anyway. But because *I follow the rules* I haven’t been able to hang out with the people I *would* otherwise want to hang out with. Do they understand I’m just being an obedient citizen? Or are they business-as-usual and have written me off because I’m holed up at home?
I don’t know if I’ll even publish this, but it does feel good to get it off my chest. Anyway, as I mentioned, I am jealous. It hurts me to see people being social when I know it’s not the “right” thing to do, and it prompts me to take a break from what little social media involvement I have left.
Please don’t comment. I’d turn off the option if I knew how. The truth is, the situation has me in quite a depression and the last thing I want to do is defend my position.
I have been quiet. Perhaps you’ve noticed. Perhaps not.
I’ve been quiet because what can I say? Normally I write about places we go, fun stuff we do. Well, we’re not hiking, we’re not hanging out with friends, I hardly see anyone who doesn’t live in my house. I go to Walmart once a week. Exciting, huh? You want to see pics of me loading milk jugs into my shopping cart? Who said yes? See me after class.
Back when I had a Facebook life, a mood such as this would have resulted in my deactivating my account and forgetting my password for a while.
Thank goodness I no longer have a Facebook life. I’m sure it’s brutal over there.
I can’t talk about anything without talking about THE thing. It’s taken over every aspect of my life. What I did today, where I went (didn’t go), what I read on the internet, what I talked about with my kids and what I prayed about. And I’m tired of talking about it.
I don’t want to talk about it. And there’s no one I want to talk about it with. I agree with some people about some things, and with other people about other things. I don’t agree with anyone about everything. But it’s a heck of a time to be divisive, isn’t it?
So instead of talking about it, I say nothing to no one. I sit at home and work with my hands. I read things written by people who would have rolled their eyes (or in their graves) to see our state of affairs. I enjoy fresh air, music, and sunshine. But I miss seeing people and going places and doing normal things. I feel smothered. Constricted. Strangled. Silenced.
The quiet life, in this case, isn’t so much a choice as a condition of living that was imposed upon me. Wow, this has gotten really depressing. Sorry, guys. I guess this is why I’m not talking about it.
Feel free to NOT tell me in the comments about how you DON’T feel about the thing we’re NOT talking about. Tell me something else. ANYTHING else. I challenge you. You can do it.
Pro tip: If the weather forecast says it’s going to rain at 1:00 and 4:00, don’t think you can hike from 2-4 and everything will be just fine.Â
It won’t be fine.Â
Oh at first, it’ll be fantastic. You’ll get to Maggie’s Donuts in time to pick up a dozen just before they close. This is epic because sometimes smaller bakeries close early. Also because powdered sugar creamstick. (Is too a complete sentence.)
You’ll enjoy some sandwiches and donuts in the trailhead parking lot, then start to hike.Â
Welcome, Park Visitor.Â
Mrs. “I Hate Hikes” wants to know what I’m doing.Â
You’ll find the observation deck.Â
We brought the umbrella. That means it won’t rain, right?Â
But look– off to the right. What’s this? Clouds?Â
It’s clouds.Â
Then comes the thunder, and the lightning, and the rain. Way more rain.Â
It wasn’t just the weather. This trail was buggy. Gravel kept getting inside our shoes. And when there wasn’t gravel, it was a narrow dirt path with foliage on both sides that I am SURE held countless snakes and ticks and other things that find human ankles delicious.Â
I’m trying to evaluate fairly, but I really think even on a clear day this would not be a favorite trail. I like other parts of Liberty Park, especially Twinsburg Ledges, but I don’t think we’ll be visiting these seven ponds again.Â
Thankfully there are lots of other trails to visit by way of the donut shop.Â
I always eagerly await the first warm days of late winter/early spring. These are my favorite days to go to zoos and parks, while public schools are in session and we have freedom to explore mostly by ourselves.Â
But these are different times. The zoo closed in March. Schools and a lot of businesses closed, and people suddenly had a lot of time on their hands. Time for hiking and biking. On my trails. In my happy place. The nerve!
I have been avoiding the parks because the word is, they’re crowded. But also, playgrounds are off-limits, as are picnic tables and benches. A lot of park restrooms are closed, too. Do you know how hard it is to avoid restrooms when you’ve got four kids and a Dr. Pepper habit? Basically impossible.Â
Thankfully, the always amazing Summit Metro Parks have, on their amazing website, a list of open restrooms. They also have a list of park areas that are less crowded. This makes it easy for me to choose a park. Do the wonders of the Summit Metro Parks never cease? I submit that they do not.Â
It was difficult to convince the kids to hike. Yes, I am the mom, and if I say we’re going hiking, it is so. But it is far less pleasant to hike with kids who know there will be lots of walking and no playground afterward. Melonie has even requested a shirt that says “I hate hiking.” How sweet.Â
Our first hike of the year was at Deep Lock Quarry. (You’ll remember this park as the setting for our brush with death last year. I assured the kids we would not be making that treacherous climb this time around.) The Quarry Trail is listed as a path less-traveled-by and one with a restroom, and we knew we liked the quarry and how to get there. Unfortunately we chose to go on the Towpath Trail.Â
It’s in the news that bike shops have experienced an uptick in business this year. I can personally attest to that. I think we were passed by 100 bikers that day. “On your left!” over and over again. We should have stuck to the rugged terrain of the bike-free Quarry Trail. That said, it was a really beautiful trail and one we hadn’t walked before.Â
Pictures!
Looking at their shadows
Cool area with a little store (that was closed of course)
Train
Posing in a lock
This white house ice cream from Country Maid was the best I’ve ever had. Sorry for my giant face.Â
Our second hike of the year was the Munroe Falls Metro Park Indian Spring Trail. I could immediately tell this would be a more pleasant hike than the previous one. There were only a few cars in the parking lot by the trailhead, and this trail was not bike-friendly.Â
Right away we saw why it’s called Indian Spring Trail. Check it out! Unsafe for drinking. Party poopers.Â
Guess there’ve been a few cases of wetandshinywaterfungusmania disease
This trail visits Beaver Pond and Heron Pond. We only saw humans at Heron Pond, probably because the heron was off at Beaver Pond! I wish I had a better picture. We also saw turtles at Beaver Pond, but no beavers. I think we’re probably way too loud not to scare off beavers. Is beaver the plural of beaver? Hmmm.Â
Heron. It’s there somewhere, I promise.
As the kids walked ahead of me, suddenly they stopped and pointed and started talking in hushed voices. When I caught up, I saw what caught their eye. This bird, though previously discovered, has been named The Sam by one of my kids. At first Google I thought an oriole, but now looking back at my (terrible) pictures I think maybe an Eastern Towhee. Either way, it is a bird we had never seen, so it was exciting.Â
Eastern Towhee a.k.a. The Sam
Downhill: a series.
Mini-Melly
Mini-Sam
Mike Teevee about to go in his mother’s purse
The swamp had these giant man-eating plants. Thankfully no R.O.U.S.’s.Â
In spite of park limitations, cyclist prevalence, and whiny kinfolk, it has been so nice to ease back into our springtime routine. May there be many more hikes to come.
The crew
Note: I know many of you have already seen all these pictures of my kids and my face, but my mom hasn’t. This one’s for you, Mom. As most of them are.
The Coffeeless Mom 