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Post by eyeseetwo on May 2, 2021 21:49:59 GMT -6
Thank you for this compelling story.
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Post by bretf on May 7, 2021 7:14:25 GMT -6
Chapter 19
Jack and Jill snuffled nearby as Kevin worked his way down the row, picking peas. Occasionally, one would come to him and whine, showing sad eyes until he stopped picking, shelled a pea, and held his hand out. “If you guys keep this up, we won’t have enough for a meal,” he said with a laugh.
Kevin jerked involuntarily at a loud noise from the neighbor’s place, ripping the entire pea plant free. Ducking down, he peered across the fence and too-narrow field. He breathed a sigh of relief; it wasn’t a gunshot It appeared that one of the workers on the garage had slammed a sheet of oriented strand board down. Still, his hand absently ran across the pistol nestled in his waistband. Its presence was both comforting and troubling. He found it hard to fathom that he’d need to carry it for safety at his home.
A thought flashed. Kevin shook his head, not sure if he could trust his mind. Maybe it’s a good thing Debbie and the kids are gone. He stood in place like a garden gnome as warring thoughts ran through his head. Debbie.
A moment later, his mind jumped to Tammy. She seemed willing enough to fill the void Debbie had left. And she’d be dropping by soon. Unsure what she’d think, but all-too certain what Debbie would, he felt the gun again and looked back at the neighbors’ house. Only construction workers were to be seen. He hadn’t seen the shaven-head man nor the one who’d had him cowering. It has to be safe in the daylight, doesn’t it? Especially with all those workers there. Kevin went to the house and stashed the gun.
He’d hardly began picking again when he heard a vehicle approaching. Standing straight, he watched as Tammy drove down the driveway and parked behind his truck.
The dogs ran at the strange car, barking, the hair on their backs standing up.
Kevin dropped his bucket and hurried out of the garden to Tammy’s car. “Jack, Jill, it’s okay, guys. She’s good.” He might as well have been talking to the wind.
Tammy sat in her car with the window down a few inches.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “Just give me a bit to hush them up.”
It took a fair amount of coaxing and scolding before they settled down. When they did, Kevin said, “Okay, I think you can get out now.”
Tammy slowly opened the door and stepped out.
Jack and Jill crowded against Kevin. “Sorry, I don’t know what got into them.”
She flashed him a wry look. “I told you I’m a cat person. It looks to me like they know it. Anyway, I saw you were in your garden. Would you mind showing it to me? Then you can show me what I need to do to help.”
“Sure,” Kevin said, and led the way to the garden.
Tammy followed as he named the plants in row after row. She only recognized corn and tomatoes, the latter obvious from the green fruit on the vines. “For the record, I’m also not a garden person. I’ve never been around one. I just know the finished product in the store.”
“Maybe we can change that. So you haven’t picked peas, either, I take it,” Kevin said.
“Just in a bag at the supermarket. And yes, together, we can change that.”
Kevin caught the stress she put on “we”. He led the way back to the pea vines and showed her the full pods and the pods that still needed more time to grow and swell, explaining how they would only pick the full ones, leaving the others for a later day.
With one of them on each side, they moved down the row. The dogs no longer begged, but stayed near, watching. Kevin and Tammy hadn’t reached the end of the row when Kevin said they were done.
“But what about the rest of them?” Tammy asked.
“I like to produce my own seeds so I don’t have to buy new packets next year. I’ll let those fully mature and pick them after they dry on the vine.”
“Ah, more of your preparation stuff.”
“Yes, and I save money, and have plants that are adapted to this climate. And it’s nowhere close to a Rueben, but I was thinking about a fresh salad for lunch. The greens and radishes are mostly finished but I think we can get enough for two of us.”
“That sounds good. And it’ll leave plenty of room for desert,” Tammy said.
“Uh, I don’t have anything for desert, except maybe a second helping of peas.”
“Then it’s a good thing I planned ahead. I’ve got that part covered. So now, that’s a lot of peas in the bucket. What do you do with them?”
Kevin explained about shelling them, keeping enough out to eat fresh, and dehydrating any that were left.
“But can’t you eat the pods? I’ve bought peas and had them without shelling them,” Tammy said.
“Those are a different type. I didn’t grow any of those this year.”
“Hum, who knew?” Tammy said.
Kevin raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment.
#
While Kevin prepared the salad, Tammy went to her car. She returned with a covered baking dish. Kevin couldn’t help himself. He raised the corner of the cover and looked in. “That looks fabulous.”
Tammy smiled and said, “Even I realized it’s apricot season so a fresh cobbler sounded good.”
Kevin said, “Why don’t we skip the salad and go straight to desert.”
“Nope, you worked hard on growing that salad. I want to see if fresh from the garden is any better than what I usually eat,” she said.
“Spoilsport.”
“Yep, and to add insult to injury, I have to leave pretty soon. So, you’ll have to clean up on your own.”
“What?” Kevin asked, disappointment written all over his face.
“Yeah. I’m getting together with my sister and brother. It’s not often we all can meet at the same time. I hope you understand. I can come and see you another time. Or you can always stop in at the Watering Hole.”
Kevin was silent as he brooded. Other than the opportunity to see Tammy, the Watering Hole held no appeal. Dismissing that, he said, “I didn’t know you have a brother and sister.”
“I guess I never mentioned them. But if I can come back, we’ll have a lot of time for you to hear about them.”
“I suppose,” he said, and placed the salad plates on the table.
#
After everything was cleaned up, Kevin returned his planning folders to the table. He sat down with a glass of tea and studied his lists. Baking items, flour, sugar, soda, and baking powder weren’t listed. He hadn’t felt the need. But reliving the afternoon and the cobbler, he added them and an oven to his list of items to acquire.
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Post by bretf on May 7, 2021 7:16:01 GMT -6
Thanks Bret.Is it okay if we continue with the muse feeding schedule? I'm trying, but life happens and interrupts the muse's meals.
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Post by bretf on May 7, 2021 7:23:09 GMT -6
Bret. Thanks for the chapter. When I taught construction management night classes, I would use nearly word for word: If we go over something you don’t understand, please ask. The only dumb question is the one unasked. Getting those that had already worked 8 and sometimes more hours that day to speak up was a chore, but prodding them to participate always provided dividends for the whole class and even the instructor. When I saw the class starting to nod off, would end the class. Teaching was fun and fulfilling. Texican... Good for you! I love to share knowledge with those that want to be there and absorb it. The ones told to be there, not so much. I have a good friend, a firefighter. He told me about a class he took once. The instructor entered the room, and without saying a word, placed a steak on a desk, and lit a fuse sticking out of it. The M-80 exploded, spreading meat bits everywhere. The instructor moved his piercing gaze around the room to the participants and said, "You don't want to fall asleep in this class!" My buddy said no one did but he was sure curious what would've happened if someone had.
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Post by papaof2 on May 7, 2021 14:39:49 GMT -6
An oven, even a Dutch oven or an over-a-burner Coleman oven, does allow you to do cooking that you can't do easily in a skillet over a burner or a wood fire.
For a short, small disaster (such as power off for a month in an area but the natural gas lines aren't affected) the gas cooktop would work nicely but the oven on the gas oven has an electric igniter that needs 380 watts for 50% of the time the oven is on - that requires a lot of alternative power for bread that takes an hour to bake.
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Post by 9idrr on May 7, 2021 17:53:45 GMT -6
I'm still wonderin' what's goin' on with the mutts and Tammy.
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remembergoliad
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Post by remembergoliad on May 7, 2021 19:07:01 GMT -6
An oven, even a Dutch oven or an over-a-burner Coleman oven, does allow you to do cooking that you can't do easily in a skillet over a burner or a wood fire. For a short, small disaster (such as power off for a month in an area but the natural gas lines aren't affected) the gas cooktop would work nicely but the oven on the gas oven has an electric igniter that needs 380 watts for 50% of the time the oven is on - that requires a lot of alternative power for bread that takes an hour to bake. This is where cruising thrift shops comes in handy. I came across a ~40 year old gas range, looked like it'd never been used--or was cared for meticulously by its previous owner--with a standing pilot in the oven as well as the top burners. During our 17 day snow/hail/ice/misery storm, it not only kept us warm but fed and coffeed up with nothing but an oil lamp to watch what we were doing on it. IDK if it was the greenies (it's 'wasteful to have a standing pilot') or the karens (because 'it could BLOW UP YOUR HOUSE!!!') that caused the standing pilot to be discontinued, but whichever group it was, should be flogged. I'm still looking for another in as good of a shape as this one to store carefully against something happening to the one we're using.
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Post by papaof2 on May 7, 2021 19:31:42 GMT -6
I think the primary argument was "All that wasted gas" in getting rid of standing pilots, although losing the oven or cooktop pilot from a loss of gas pressure could have meant a room or house full of BOOM fuel...
Our battery-operated gas logs (remote and gas valve) have a standing pilot. It's gone out once but the thermocouple valve shut off the gas (as most gas hot water heaters do/did) but that's not something most gas ovens were equipped with. I'm sure some nanny-for-adults would be terrified that we light the gas cooktop with a grill lighter when power is off because she would be certain we'd die (or explode) from the gas fumes before we could get the burner lit ;-) Our first house had a gas stove with standing pilots for burners and oven. We're still around more than 50 years later so that must be survivable ;-)
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remembergoliad
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Post by remembergoliad on May 7, 2021 19:54:22 GMT -6
..."All that wasted gas"... You mean the stuff flaring off over seems like EVERY Christmas tree in south Texas? Gotta be someone stupider than that Gretel Thunderberg (or whatever her name is) kid. Another example of pure idiocy. In the case of propane, it's MY propane and if I wanna burn it instead of buy a glowplug, I oughtta be able to. As far as NG, so long as I pay the bill, it's MY gas and ...well, same thing.
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Post by papaof2 on May 7, 2021 20:09:37 GMT -6
A typical 600BTU pilot flame consumes 14,400BTU/day. At last year's average of $1.40/Therm (100,000BTU - yes I keep records of utility usage and costs which are useful when adding insulation, better windows, etc.), that works out to $0.20295 per day for each pilot I have in use.
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Post by papaof2 on May 7, 2021 20:15:16 GMT -6
On the other hand, it seems that I encountered fewer stupid people on a regular basis in the past than I do now, so perhaps there were some Darwin Events associated with standing pilots on gas stoves?
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remembergoliad
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Post by remembergoliad on May 7, 2021 21:25:39 GMT -6
A typical 600BTU pilot flame...works out to $0.20295 per day for each pilot I have in use. I did shut off the stovetop ones, as they are the older ones which heat the top cover plate between the burners, and it makes for tougher cleaning than just having a long lighter handy. So.... I can eat the 20c a day that the oven uses, for the peace of mind of being able to use it without electricity. We've threadjacked Bret hard enough Need to let him constipate on his story. I know he'll get the next part worked out soon enough though....
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Post by iamnobody on May 8, 2021 10:22:56 GMT -6
“Yeah. I’m getting together with my sister and brother. It’s not often we all can meet at the same time. I hope you understand. I can come and see you another time. Or you can always stop in at the Watering Hole.” Waiting to see who the sister and brother are.
I'm thinking:
Tammy's sister is Cindy. Her brother is the guy that Kevin sent to prison. They can't get together often because he has been in prison. The neighbors place is becoming gangland central.
I have been wrong before about things So I will just continue hanging over this cliff by my fingertips...
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Post by bretf on May 12, 2021 20:05:43 GMT -6
Chapter 20
Kevin was at work early, spending the free time on the internet. He worked on the lists of prep items he hoped to buy, searching for the best prices. A sheet of paper on his desk was covered with notes by the time Janice arrived. Watching, he waited until she had her coffee and was relaxed at her desk. Then, he rose and went to talk to her.
“Good morning, Janice. Have a good weekend?”
“Yep, nice and lazy. How about you?”
Kevin flushed, and said, “Yes, very nice. I got some stuff done round the place. And I hate to impose, but I was also thinking about some things I need. You get the office supplies at Costco, don’t you?”
She sipped her coffee, and then said, “Yeah, why? Do you need me to pick something up for you?”
“Well, I was just wondering if I could go along with you next time and check the prices on some things. You know, see if it’s worth the entrance fee.”
“It’s a membership, not an entrance fee, but I get you. Or course you can go. But don’t you have a membership? As crowded as it gets, especially on weekends, I thought everyone must have a membership.”
“I haven’t since the kids were little. We got diapers and formula there but it didn’t seem worth the hassle after that.”
Janice took a longer sip, thinking. Wednesday wouldn’t work because of his laundry. And it was out of character for him to ask to go along so it was important to him. She consulted her calendar. “Okay. Well, we are running low on some things. How’s lunchtime tomorrow sound? I don’t see that Walt has anything scheduled so we could leave Jack and Jill with him.”
Kevin’s face, concerned when he made the request, relaxed. “Great. I’ll ask Walt when he gets in.”
“Leave him to me,” Janice said.
“Okay, well, thanks. Now I better get at it.”
Kevin returned to his desk. He had a few more minutes before he had to get to work so he did a bit more surfing. Storing baking supplies concerned him, especially flour. It was well known weevil eggs, among other undesirables, were often present and would hatch and destroy stored provisions.
Listed most often for storage was airproof buckets and oxygen absorbers. He couldn’t afford everything some of the preppers recommended. There must be a better, less costly method. Wondering what some of those people did for work, they obviously had more disposable income than he did, he looked for a workable method.
Kevin’s face relaxed as he read the final site he had time to visit. Freezing, that was the answer. All he had to do was freeze flour, rolled oats, and other grain products for a few days. Then, he could use the popcorn tins he’d found at the thrift store for storage. Thank goodness Debbie didn’t take the freezer!
#
As Janice picked up supplies for the office, Kevin roamed the aisles. At each item he was interested in, he shot photos of the product sizes and cost. Later, he’d put all the information onto a sheet of paper. With his research complete, he located Janice, waiting near the check-out lanes.
“What, with everything in this store, you couldn’t find anything to buy?” she asked.
“Oh, I saw plenty, but I’m not ready to buy today. Tell you what, though. Let me treat you to lunch for letting me tag along. I’ve heard great things about the Costco hotdogs.”
Janice laughed. “Sure, I’ll take you up on that. They are pretty good. But you know, the saying is the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, not a woman’s. Besides, I’m taken.”
#
Wednesday’s lunchtime found Kevin at the laundromat. Tammy’s parting words from Sunday ran through his mind. I can come and see you another time. Or you can always stop in at the Watering Hole. It seemed he’d do his laundry alone. Head down and shoulders slumped, he went to the machines, pulled his whites from the washer and stuffed them into a drier. I should’ve just done everything in one load so I can get out of here.
A shadow darkened the door and it began to open. She came!
He broke into a smile as Tammy entered. Again, she didn’t have dirty laundry, only carrying a paper bag in each hand. A delicious aroma filled the enclosed space.
“Hey, Kev, I hope you’re hungry.”
“Hi. I, uh, wasn’t sure I’d see you today.”
She tilted her head and a look crossed her face. “I’m sorry you felt that way. I’ve been enjoying our mid-week dates. Of course, I was coming.”
He didn’t mention the absence of her laundry. The alarm sounded as the washer with his colors finished. “Uh, I need to switch this load.”
“Okay, while you do that, I’ll get this ready. And you didn’t answer when I asked if you’re hungry.”
Bent over the machines and not turning to face her, he said, “Yeah, well, if I wasn’t before, I am now. That smells wonderful. Did you make it?”
“Ha. I don’t prepare food, I serve it. Now, let’s eat while it’s hot.”
He kept his head over the drier while Janice’s comment about lunch the day before ran through his head. Janice had only been joking, but … So, where’d the cobbler come from? Smiling, he stood and turned. “Sounds good. What’re we having? It doesn’t smell like a Reuben.”
“Nope, we’re branching out today. I brought Phillie cheese steaks and garlic fries.”
“Can’t go wrong with those,” he said with a smile, even though his stomach was roiling. Picking up his sandwich, he took a bite. His mind was racing and it tasted like he was chewing sawdust. But you know, the saying is the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, not a woman’s. What the heck is going on?
#
Despite his misgivings, after work, Kevin drove to the Chef’Store. The restaurant supply store sold in large quantities, just like Costco. They also sold to the general public. And an important point in Kevin’s mind, they didn’t charge a fee just to enter.
He wandered the aisles, comparing prices to the list of prices he’d compiled. After going through the aisles that interested him, he returned to the front of the store and got a flat-bed cart.
Kevin left the store with fifty-pound bags of flour, rolled oats, and sugar. He’d be back. But not until next payday, after his guns were paid off.
#
With no remaining appointments, Kevin left work early on Friday. Jack and Jill sat attentively as he didn’t take the direct route to home. He talked to them as he drove. “I was thinking I’d get four hens. That would be enough for us. But something’s going on. What do you guys think?”
Jill turned and licked his face. Jack looked at him, staring into his eyes.
Kevin broke the stare to look back at the road. Focusing on the highway, his hands squeezing the steering wheel, he said, “Yeah, you’re right. But I’m starting to fit the pieces together. I don’t know why I haven’t’ been listening to you two. And I don’t have a clue of what this puzzle will look like when the last piece is in place.”
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Post by 9idrr on May 12, 2021 20:37:13 GMT -6
Yeah, right, uh huh. Been more than once that I thought I had all the pieces together when it came to wimmens. Found that I could almost never get things to look like the picture on the cover of the puzzle box.
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Post by texican on May 13, 2021 22:42:54 GMT -6
..."All that wasted gas"... You mean the stuff flaring off over seems like EVERY Christmas tree in south Texas? Gotta be someone stupider than that Gretel Thunderberg (or whatever her name is) kid. Another example of pure idiocy. In the case of propane, it's MY propane and if I wanna burn it instead of buy a glowplug, I oughtta be able to. As far as NG, so long as I pay the bill, it's MY gas and ...well, same thing. When i was a young child living in Odessa, Texas, the oil fields were lit up with flaring of natural gas. The light was a bright as moon light. Remember this well. Texican....
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Post by ydderf on May 16, 2021 0:16:20 GMT -6
Thank you Bret.
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Post by dallanta on May 17, 2021 12:48:37 GMT -6
Excellent! Thank you and waiting for more.
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Post by bretf on May 17, 2021 19:44:08 GMT -6
Chapter 21
Their heads hanging out the window anticipating their master’s return, Jack and Jill detected intriguing scents emanating from the box he carried when he exited the chicken hatchery. They were no longer interested in him, just the box. Rather, the contents of the box. Inside it was eight Rhode Island Red hens.
“Easy, guys. You’ll meet them soon enough. And they’re not food. You’ll have to protect them, just like you watch out for me,” Kevin told them. He put the box in the bed of the truck, shook his head at his pals, and got in the driver’s seat.
The dogs ignored Kevin as he drove home. They stared at the box in the back of the truck. Kevin glanced at them through his rear-view mirror. “You know, if you keep that up, I’m going to have to wash that window.”
They didn’t care, continuing to press their noses against the glass. He shook his head and drove on.
When he got home, the dogs forgot all their manners, jumping across him the moment he opened the door. They ran to the side of the truck, standing on their hind legs, trying to see into the back; trying to see the intriguing box.
“Guys, for goodness sakes, I know this rig isn’t pristine, but do you have to add claw marks to the side?”
Again, he was ignored, and again, he shook his head.
Kevin reached in and picked up the box. In a stern voice that finally got through he said, “Down. Sit.” Surprising him, they did and he brought the box out. They instantly forgot his commands and snuffled it.
Shaking his head, he headed for the chicken pen. As he walked, he told them, “Really, you guys will have to protect them.” He should’ve saved his breath. Jack pranced to his left, snuffling the box, and Jill mirrored him on his right side.
He got to the chicken pen and went inside, pulling the gate closed behind him. The dogs appeared to be affronted, being left out of such an important venture. He nearly shook his head at them again. Instead, he smiled and said, “Okay, get ready for the main event.”
He placed the box on the ground and looked around. The feeder and waterer were both full from the day before when he’d done all he could to prep for the hens. Kneeling, he opened the top of the box and reached in. Drawing out a hen, he held it up towards his buddies. “This is a chicken. They’ll feed us with their eggs, not their flesh, okay?” He released the hen, and then picked out three more before turning the box on its side and pouring out the rest of the birds. Jack and Jill paced the side of the pen, whining, as the hens looked around.
The chickens were in a small enclosure, but it was more room than they were used to after spending their lives in the hatchery. As tentatively as they moved, Kevin decided it’d be a while before he allowed them to range outside the pen. All they’d known was confinement and it’d take time for them to acclimate. Of course, the dogs needed to accept them as well.
He turned the box up on his side and sat tentatively on it. It was precarious but it supported him. A couple of the hens cautiously scratched the ground. The others joined them, checking out what they’d scraped up. Several minutes passed. The dogs calmed; somewhat. Maybe it was long enough, he could bring them in the pen, one at a time.
He stood and reached for the gate. The dogs tensed, no longer looking at the hens or him. Instead, they were looking up the lane. He followed their looks and saw the moving van maneuvering down the narrow lane.
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Post by sniper69 on May 17, 2021 19:52:55 GMT -6
Thank you for the latest chapter. I wonder what is in the moving van.
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Post by iamnobody on May 18, 2021 8:14:46 GMT -6
Thank you for the latest chapter. I wonder what is in the moving van. I'm wondering WHO is in the moving van.
Is it the man that got out of prison that Kevin is worried about?
Is it Tammy's things because she decided on her own to move in with Kevin?
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Post by ydderf on May 18, 2021 9:39:00 GMT -6
Perhaps it is the ex coming home after her life and dreams fell apart! If so I hope Kevin is capable of saying no.
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Post by iamnobody on May 18, 2021 10:20:27 GMT -6
Perhaps it is the ex coming home after her life and dreams fell apart! If so I hope Kevin is capable of saying no. That would be a BAD NIGHTMARE!!!!
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Post by solo on May 18, 2021 15:14:44 GMT -6
Come on, guys... You know Tammy is Toast. The dogs knows. They one THEY like is Janice. She is the one who will ultimately win the prize....
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Post by papaof2 on May 18, 2021 17:03:20 GMT -6
Solo's analysis seems reasonable - starting with the dogs liking her...
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