Thirteen

He would tell complete strangers that his parents didn't love him because they wouldn't give him a baby brother. We showed him, I guess.

Back in the day, he prefered a very clean cut look. He could eat an entire bowl of rice at 12 months old without spilling a single grain.

Henry taught him about getting messy. To this day, he still doesn't enjoy it.

A city street in the background, which is how he prefers it (and continuously reminds us that country life isn't for him). And his music should be from this century, thank-you-very-much.

He's the funniest person I know.

Home, matey

My boy is home from his ultra-long sailing adventure. He was roughing it around the waters of Vancouver Island in Canada. Apparently, there was also a fair amount of barfing on his part. Because he's my kid, and we don't consider any trip complete without a fair amount of vomiting involved. That's just how we roll. Thankfully, Dylan's (his buddy lying in the above photo) dad didn't send me this shot until Jack was safely home in my arms:

The rest of the kids had a pretty tough time missing their brother. For one thing, he's the only one who knows how to operate the Wii or the DVD player (that's my story and I'm sticking to it), but they really did miss him. Grace went so far as to adopt a "baby Jack" and she would set it up in his place at mealtimes.

Seamus was most aggrieved. He woke us up during the night with his whining for his boy. Olivia did her best to comfort him.

Alas:

My boy is back tomorrow, finally. Gone too long.

Fivesome

I took the three youngest to pick strawberries today. Good, clean, wholesome family activity, no? Except Olivia ate every strawberry that she came in contact with and Grace picked a total of three strawberries in 45 minutes. The rest of the time consisted of commentary regarding the appearance of said strawberries, or tripping over strawberry plants and complaining of injuries sustained while tripping. Then, she had to poop, so we left. The end.

Jack's been gone three days now on a fabulous sailing trip through Canada's islands. He's with a very good friend, and I finally heard from him last night. Seasick, migraine. I was frantic, trying to figure out how to get up there to fetch him while Mitch waited all day in line trying to get his passport renewed. He called today and I could tell he was back to normal, because he said, "Do you know how much this is going to cost? You're not taking this out of my cell phone bill, are you?"

Then, this Facebook message from him:

"Its really fun. We accidentally got lost in the porn district today and we're scarred for life. it was in Vancouver. Im having a great time. theres a shower bye love ya"

Only a week and a half until he gets back.

Low Tide

Record low tides sent us beachcombing this week. The kids found all kinds of cool stuff.

However, nothing was quite as interesting as their ice cream cones from Kapaw's. Those are deep piles of mussels they're standing on.

Stick covered in seastars.

Father's Day

Heading to the beach, the wind in our fur...

A little screen time with the king:

Easing into vacation

Summer vacation. Day 4

We spent the week cleaning out the garage. See that big pile of crap in the corner?

Let me move in a little closer:


Kittens are magic because they can make a moody adolescent do this :

Okay, he was totally posing for that photo. But I know he feels that way on the inside!

Meow

They hate the ugly little kittens!

Menagerie

We've been trying to eat healthier, and one way we're doing that is by cutting our meat consumption by half. You might think this would be harder on Mitch or Olivia, both of whom like a little meat with their meat on their plates. However, the biggest adjustment has been by the family dog. Seamus pretended to enjoy his leftover tidbits of felafel and quinoa, but the other night while I was washing dishes, he showed me just how pleased he was to be going vegetarian. I was looking out the kitchen window when I saw him hop up and snatch a mama bird right out of the birdhouse. Then, he trotted over to the window and proceeded to chow down in front of me. Don't worry, we're working on giving him plenty of lunch meat snacks in the future.

Yesterday, Jack and I were helping Mitch move the small chicken coop over to my stinging nettle garden. As we lifted it, a nice family of rats scampered out from under it. I'm sure any of you reading this probably heard my blood-curdling scream. We've also found evidence of rats out in the shed, so, I had to pour myself a giant glass of wine. After the wine, I decided we needed an outdoor farm cat. I know! What a great idea, right? I looked on Freecycle, and the VERY FIRST POST was an offer of two free 8 week-old kittens. Since I believe in fate while drinking, I contacted the generous kitten-offerer and within an hour, our kittens were settled in.
The kids want to name them Charlie and Lola, but I'm calling them Chardonnay and Reality.

Seamus didn't think his life could suck any harder until last night.

i kan groe fud

I'm growing stuff. In the distance, just to the right of the chicken coop and behind the fenced in "stinging nettle garden (don't ask. I had the idea to expand the vegetable space so I'd have a cutting garden)" is the kitchen garden.Let's move in a little closer, shall we?

Last year was my first attempt at a vegetable garden. I grew slugs, weeds, a few spotty potatoes, weeds, slugs, and the odd carrot or two. Oh, and about three sugar snap peas. This year I read books about gardening throughout the winter, and look! Real food. As you can see, I'm still rather excellent at growing weeds, too. I've been trying all kinds of organic slug control, and the slugs aren't as invasive this year.

The bonus of having the coop next to the garden (besides the excellent poop) is that I can just toss both the weeds and slugs over the fence to them. I still have a row or two that I have no clue what's growing (the kids did most of the planting), but Henry's potatoes are looking beautious, and he keeps them weed free, too. Olivia still has zero interest in the actual gardening, but she eats everything we grow. She'll be running around outside, pop into the garden, stuff some lettuce or a carrot or spinach in her mouth, and run back out. Grace is fascinated by the sugar snap peas the girls have growing in their little garden. She measures them every day. You can sort of see them climbing up the bamboo:

And everywhere you look are nasturtiums. I gave the kids all packets of nasturtium seeds and they put some in every pot and all throughout the garden. I'm so country, I think I'm going to go hitch up the team and go to Starbucks. Oh. Wait. Dang.

Gah, it's like 90 in the shade this week

Did you know you could buy Build-A-Bears at the Great Wolf Lodge? It's true. You just have to have an auntie who sends you money (unlike the MEAN auntie who sends Wal-Mart gift cards so I have to go there and stand in the pink aisle for an eternity or until I poke my eye out with a $5 bonfire poker, whichever comes first). Note they're choices in animals and outfits. So predictable!I promised the girls I would let them make, frost, and decorate their own cake for their birthday, but since we were busy spending our retirement fund at the GWL on their special day, today became that day. I forgot to take pictures, but it's not anything I'd like to remember, so it's really for the best. Let's just say I feel pretty much the same way about sprinkles that I do about glitter, and there were a LOT of sprinkles. I actually had to step outside the house while they went to town. They also licked a lot off of their hands, to the point where I think they're going to have some lovely purple and pink turds tomorrow. Aaaaand, your welcome!

Six days left of school, yay! Jack got an academic award today, and he wisely waited until his Dad had had a glass of wine to mention it, and could he have a video camera for his birthday (You know, so he can document the hell that we put him through on a daily basis)?

Henry is happier than anyone that school is almost out. He's been grumpy from the heat and grass pollen, but one would hardly be able to tell unless they knew him really well or they were his little sisters.

Six.

5-28-03 Olivia, 5lbs 9oz and Grace, 4lbs, 9oz

5-28-09 Olivia, 45 lbs, and Grace, 50 lbs

This year the girls decided they really wanted to go to the Great Wolf Lodge for their birthday. For those not in the know, the GWL is a hotel/indoor water park/gimmicky money sucking machine about three hours from our house. And since it was on the way, we had to go to the Rainforest Cafe for lunch and a Volcano. For those not in the know, the RC is a restaurant/rainforest wannabe/gimmicky money sucking machine about two hours from our house.

This is a volcano and a six year-old. After lunch, Grace had it in her head that she couldn't get through her birthday without a new birthday dress. With jewels on it. Olivia had no interest in dress shopping, so she hung out with the boys while Grace and I hit the stores. She found her dream dress and wore it right out of the store (yes, Aunt Marci, it was on sale). You may not be able to see the GIANT plastic jewels across the front, but believe me, they are very prominent.

And finally, we arrived and my kids went apeshit when they saw the place. Here the girls are at pajama story time with a big, furry thing.

Below are the boys coming out of the tornado, which is guaranteed to give you diarrhea if you open your eyes when hitting the first drop (your welcome!). Henry didn't even want me to do it, so worried was he that I would actually die. He even had the sad, watery eyes when I finally succombed to Jack's taunting and went for it. And it was fun! In a diarrhea-inducing sort of way.

We all had fun, and it was way less painful than throwing a big birthday party.

The kids had their own "cabin" within our room, but the girls chose to sleep on the pull-out bed next to our bed. AWWWWWW.

Oh, and there was a fireplace and a balcony with a beautiful view of the parking lot. And lots of hairy backs (your welcome again!) everywhere.

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And guess which two kids fell asleep on the way home?

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Go on, guess!

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AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

Tidbits

Mitch was in Texas and Louisiana last week, where he bought alligator heads. And I'd like to say, no home should be without alligator heads. While he was gone, I found a good deal on a black wrought iron table and chair set. I've been looking for one for the girls' garden for a while. Unfortunately, it came in a big, flat box with a bag of screws and an allen wrench (Henry told me it was an allen wrench, but for all I know it could have been a steve wrench). Being married to Mitch has the advantage of never having to assemble anything myself, but with five days to go before he got home there was no way I was going to wait. I read the directions and put together four chairs and a table all by myself. I stepped back to admire my work, but was disappointed. They were sturdy enough, but didn't fit the whole "Children's Garden" theme I had going, so I spray painted everything pink. Cute, no? And, after he blew so much cash on alligator heads, how could Mitch be annoyed? Two wrongs make a right at our house. It's simple math. We spent the rest of last week with fevers and sickness.

Another new development around here is the arrival of another baby chick. The day Mitch, um, took care of Hef the Rooster, he grabbed a handful of eggs and tossed them into the incubator, and we all forgot about them. Three weeks later, Henry went into the garage and heard "cheep! cheep!" And there was a little chick, freshly hatched. We call him "HalfHef".

Yesterday was the big Memorial Day parade. Jack rode with his 4-H group, and Henry and Mitch rode on an old firetruck (a prize Hen won in a raffle). The girls and I were supposed to march with their t-ball team, but we're all effing sick. Again.

Pancakes

I followed the instructions perfectly. Dropped the batter onto the griddle and made smiley faces out of M&Ms. Butter, maple syrup.

"Why are you making pancakes, mommy?"

"Because Daddy's on a trip."

"We could have eggs or french toast."

"No, Sunday is Pancake Day. Don't worry, they'll taste great."

Three simultaneous bites. Sideways glances at each other. Big gulps of orange juice.

Sigh. "I'm sorry, I suck at making pancakes."

"That's okay, mom, you just have to chew them more and drink lots of juice."

"My tummy hurts."

"I want Daddy."

Mother's Day

So, I had a fab Mother's Day weekend, but first I'd like to give a shout out to my own mom, shown here with all of her grandkids. She's a great mom and the kind of nana who makes chocolate milk so thick you can chew it.


Saturday I went to Seattle to spend the day with my bff, Jessica. We shopped and lunched and had margaritas. For lunch! The stuff I bought before lunch was practical and boring. Pajamas, sunglasses, dumb stuff I needed. Now, going shopping after boozin' it up is funny. I got sucked into the vortex of the jewelry department and Jessica couldn't find me. She thought I was passed out on the floor between the racks, because that what she would be doing if she hadn't been looking for me. On the ferry ride home, I admired all the weird crap I bought, then hid it at the bottom of my bags.

Mother's Day was lovely. I woke up to breakfast in bed and beautiful flower leis made by the girls from the rhodies in their garden. Homemade cards and a card from Jack that he walked to town to buy. Over 5 miles round trip! He said he thought I'd appreciate it more if it was store-bought, since I know how tight he is with his money. Mitch spent most of the day cleaning my car out, because the 10 minutes he spent in it shuttling the girls to their t-ball game sent him over the edge. Jack pressure-washed the sports court, Henry cleaned up some dog poop, and the girls pestered me about the temperature outside, and if it was warm enough to go on the Slip N'Slide I'd brought home yesterday. As soon as the thermometer said 62 degrees, they were in their suits and ready. Ah, the Pacific Northwest.


Jack was too cool to try it and Grace was too, um, uncoordinated to figure it out, but she looked cute in her suit, by golly!

And finally, perhaps the biggest WTF prize for things I bought while tipsy goes to this wine stopper:

I know. There are no words.

RIPHEF

This post is about Hef, and how he's dead, and I actually did take pictures, but decided people would rather look at pictures of the girls making mud pies in aprons and chef hats than pictures of a dead rooster. You're welcome.

At 4am on Saturday, as I fumed, wide awake in my bed, listening yet again to the dawn "COCKADOODLEDOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!" outside my window, I formulated a plan. Four hours later, when Mitch finally rolled out of bed, all innocent and sleepy, I told him of this plan. It had something to do with me being too tired to cook, clean, or perform any of my other wifely duties while that rooster was still alive. Now, I've been complaining about Hef the Rooster pretty much since he arrived here, because I'm a light sleeper and he shaves off about two hours of my precious sleep every morning. Nothing ever came of my lamentations until I declared my brilliant plan. So! The girls and I trotted off to our t-ball game. Mitch called during the game. "It's done."

I broke the news gently to the girls in the car on the way home, thinking they'd be upset and there'd be tears. "Can I have the leg?" "No, I want the leg!" they bickered. My little country girls. When we got home, there was Hef, headless and featherless, soaking in a sink of ice water. They poked him for a while and examined his stump, then they went out to make mud pies.

Mitch splayed him out on the grill and he, the girls, and Henry all tasted him. "It tastes like chicken-flavored gum!" Grace declared. Jack and Mitch are on an all vegetarian kick right now for some reason. I'm still having trouble sleeping because now the frogs are waking me up....

May Day

Henry remembered it was May Day at 8:30 this morning. Since we leave at 8:45, that was plenty of time to make May baskets and pick flowers from the garden for their teachers, right?

Yesterday, Mitch chaperoned Henry's class on a trip to the Science Center in Seattle. And when I say "chaperoned", I mean that in the loosest possible way, because according to Henry, his Dad pretty much broke every chaperoning rule in the book. He bought his group candy, bought them some kind of space ride, let them play video games on the ferry, broke off from the classes so they could "do fun stuff by themselves" and was late returning to the bus. According to Henry, it was a great time.

Jack had a track meet in Skagit Valley, so I thought I'd pick up the girls from school and we would go see the tulip fields before watching Jack. Just when I turned on the road to Nature's Glory, Grace wondered aloud if we shouldn't go shoe shopping at the mall instead.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! went my tires as I flipped a u-turn. We have five or six tulips in our yard, anyway. Well, not anymore after this morning, but that is beside the point. Thanks to a little thing involving pigs and pandemics, along with a sinking economy, we pretty much had the whole mall to ourselves. I realized that I had never actually been in a mall with the girls (that they could remember, anyway). Anything we need, I order online since we're so far from civilization. I plan to rectify that immediately, because we had a great day. Grace was very close to getting her ears pierced, until she saw the actual piercing implement. She settled for pink and purple hair extensions instead. They both picked out uncomfortable, fancy sandals and HIDEOUS light up fake Crocs for collecting eggs in (they can be hosed off and stay outside all the time, mom!)

Here they are, wearing their shoes and hobbling strutting down the mall.

Olivia got yet another large-headed stuffed animal baby, because no one needs to be able to actually sleep in their bed when there's stuffed animals to arrange on it. Also, shoe boxes make great stuffed animal baby beds.

Poor Grace, her shoes had a little wedge and she tripped so many times that skin was hanging off her feet in chunks by the end of the day. Here she is after a particularly un-Grace-full moment, trying to keep her shit together so I didn't say, "I told you so" and make her wear her sturdy, ugly, Keens.

She spent most of the track meet taking pictures of her new shoes and complaining about how she should have painted her toenails. I KNOW! Who takes pictures of their shoes, right?

Jack made his fastest time yet in the mile run. This isn't the race, he's just trying to get to the food stand to get the last grain of rice. Jack had a difficult time keeping his disengaged tween angst up with his sister falling all over the place and flipping her hair extensions back and forth.

This morning, the first words out of Grace's mouth were, "That was fun yesterday! Can we buy some more stuff today?" I told her to go ask the Bad Chaperone and she came tripping down the stairs with the same face you see in the fourth picture above.

Blizzards

Jack was caught being sweet to his sisters while Mitch and I were busy drinking wine cleaning the kitchen after dinner.

A trip to the dentist is always an adventure with us, mostly due to Henry's anxiety and trigger-happy gag reflex. Today was teeth cleaning day for the three youngest, and I like to bribe them with a Blizzard if each and every one of them comes out of the office cavity-free. So far they haven't missed out on their frozen treat, and today was no exception. As a bonus, Henry didn't barf, although he had his gallon ziploc at the ready. Right before they called him in, however, he started shedding crocodile tears about how his best friend was mean to him all the time and he didn't have any real friends. I figured it was dental anxiety, but I pulled him on my lap and listened to his tale of woe while Olivia rolled her eyes and Grace pored over "Cheerleading" magazine. There were no x-rays today, so all three came out with their balloons and new toothbrushes with big smiles on their faces. Well, Olivia didn't have a balloon. She has a little balloon phobia relating to the way they seem to "lunge" at her randomly. Between Henry's clown phobia, Olivia's balloon phobia, and Grace's fear of getting dirt on her outfits, we're a real fun family to hang out with at the county fair.

Anyway, the kids got their Blizzards and Henry was in an extra good mood because I said he didn't have to go back to school. I also said something along the lines of, "I hope you and hisfriendsnamehere work out your problems before the field trip tomorrow".

"What are you talking about?" My little ball of anxiety replied.

"Never mind," I sighed. Heavily.

We took the long, windy, road home along Penn Cove so they could finish their ice cream. Oh, you think you know where this is going, do you?

Alas, no trip to the dentist is complete without at least one child barfing. Midnight Truffle Blizzard.

Made in China

Getting some fresh air

Nothing to new to report, the kids have been running amok while Mitch finishes the new countertops and I weed and weed and plant new things for the deer to eat. Jerks.

Yesterday we ferried over to Seattle and on the way home I had Mitch stop at Trader Joe's for some Important Supplies. Like salty snacks. He took the kids into some discount store next door while I shopped. Now, when I take the kids into stores, they generally don't ask me to buy them a bunch of plastic crap, because I have a fool-proof method of saying no without being the bad guy. I say, "sure, you can probably buy that as long as it's not made in China". My kids think things made in China must be made out of innocent toddlers and dipped in poison, because they never question this response. And since pretty much every cheap plastic toy on the store shelves comes from China, we generally leave stores free of junk.

So, of course Mitch bought the girls some Made in China Crap. Henry, of course, wouldn't dream of infecting himself with Made in China Crap (parasites!), and didn't even ask. Olivia had some lame toy, and Grace picked out make-up, tattoos, body glitter, and body jewels. Klassy!

T-Ball

The girls' first game was on Friday. Olivia thought she looked great (which, of course, she did). Grace was horrified when she got the uniform on. Also, the hat ruined any chance of a cute hair-do. Finally she settled for some fancy ponytail holders that hung out the bottom of the cap.

There's a lot of standing around when you're in the field. Thankfully, her best friend made it to third where they had a nice hug and talked about Littlest Pet Shop.

Look who they got to coach! Guess who knows nothing about baseball? Once I figured out that coaching five year-olds is a lot like herding cats, it wasn't so bad. I think my reaction in this photo is noticing Grace coming back from the porta potty with her dad, and I know for a FACT that he doesn't carry hand sanitizer in his pocket like I do.

This little girl loved her first game!

This little girl had a hard time running with the batting helmet on because she didn't want to smash her hair-do.

Easter

We were lucky to host Easter at our house this year, with all the cousins from my side of the family, Nana, and the drunken aunties.

Gracie and her idol in life, the beautiful Mackenzie, who, unbelievably, is only 12 years old.

Egg hunt. The little kids were zooming for the candy eggs, while the 12 and up crowd were only interested in the money eggs.

Last night together at the beach:

Dyeing eggs with stupid dumb store-bought eggs.

Wow, I think I'm officially a hick. A hick with a cute new purse.

Spring Break

Spring break began on April Fool's day. Jack was the only one who had school, and above is what I packed him for lunch that day. We've been pretty busy this week, and it hasn't been all pj's and watching Youtube while lounging on tables, mind you.

I took the kids to our favorite island beach and we spent the day working on adhering as much sand as we could to ourselves so we could deposit it on the floors of our house. I'm still crunching away.

It was in the 70's!

Whoa!

What the.... I know, right?

Our poor non-shedding dog had so many mats that Mitch had to shave him, and, well, Mitch kind of SUCKS at shaving the dog, so this is how he ended up. And we had brought him to the beach for his birthday (the dog's, not Mitch's). He was too embarrassed to play with the other dogs, though, so he just sat at my feet wrapped in a towel, mostly. When other dogs came near, he hid his naked butt from them. I tried to make it up to him by buying him a cheeseburger on the way home, but it was nothing more than a momentary diversion. He is still sulking.

The girls got some new chairs for their little garden. Henry has claimed the treehouse, so I'm trying to spruce up their garden so they don't feel the need to cross into his territory. I don't know exactly what he and his eight year-old buddies do up there, because Mitch and the boys purposely built it beyond the treeline so I couldn't spy easily. There's a lot of smashing, laughing, and most likely video gaming in the hammocks, I think. I've seen slingshots, buckets, rocks, action figures, and grocery bags full of unknown items heading out that way as well.

Anyway, the girls are pleased with their new seats. They are in colors I like to call "Pepto Pink" and "Wal-Mart Purple". Can you guess what their favorite colors are?

Sigh. So predictable.

Coop De Villa

Behold the new and improved chicken coop. Note that the nesting boxes have access to the outside. This is important because no poop needs to be stepped on to gather eggs.

Oops! Excuse me. Did you notice her reading a copy of Us Weekly?

The color is very, uh, red.

Here is the first egg:

The nesting boxes from the inside:

Here is where the old gals roost. It can be raised up to sweep the bits of chicken goodness out by my valiant son.

See how big the babies are getting? This is the brooder, which is inside the chicken house, but separated from the rest of the chickens.

This is my compost pile. These are the only helpers I could get to move compost into the garden.

We paid how much for this class?

Mad Skilz

Fever

Pitiful

Henry is the sweetest sick kid. He lays around, not demanding anything, just riding the fever out. He's not even barfing. That's not a bandage in the top pic. I put these cooling gel packs on their foreheads when they have fevers or headaches. They are one of my favorite things in my mom bag of tricks.

Do you feel lucky?

Chicks dig me

Our wee ones arrived this evening, tired as all get out:

This is one of those funky chickens with the crazy Dr. Seuss feathers on top. Those photo also documents the scarring on my husbands' thumb from building the new coop. It also documents what a pigsty our garage is. I did park my car in there that one afternoon, though.

Henry and Grace are our non-animal lovers, but they don't mind watching. I never thought I'd see a kid shriek the way Henry does when you put about 2 oz. of chicken fluff in his hands. Grace likes her chickens in nugget form.

These two can't get enough:

Screen time

This is what we've been doing this week:

Oh, and this:

That's my excuse for not blogging, anyway. The girls have been sick, where sick for Olivia means she doesn't comb her hair for three days, walks into the kitchen and lays on the floor, moaning, "FOOD. NEED. FOOD." For Grace it means she ate 2 saltines over three days. It also means they can call their Daddy at work and use their sad, sick little voices to beg him to bring home such atrocities as High School Musical 3. Grace also needs to have her "fevah" checked every 15 minutes. Good times!

I'm a sucka

Look! Another chicken coop! That will undoubtably make my gardening experience more pleasant. At least olfactorily. I'm pretty sure that's a word. He promised he would paint it red and it would be cheerful to look at, knowing I'm a sucker for anything red. Oops, how did this picture sneak in here?
We woke up yesterday to a few inches of snow, which is still covering the ground this morning. I said the eff word a lot, because it meant I had to dig out all the snow pants, boots, hats, mittens, and snow toys I had packed away. This photo shows my seed starts, pointing their delicate leaves toward the snowy window. Not sure why Mitch's car is in the backyard.

Last week I somehow ended up being the "Popcorn Mom" at the elementary school, which means on half days I'm out on the playground, popping and bagging popcorn from 8am-12. Also, putting stamps on kids' foreheads. I was feeling stretched pretty thin as I counted thousands of Box Tops for the PTA, and I had a glass of wine. Henry reminded me to call his friend's mom to see if his buddy could come over for a sleepover. I remembered that the mom had coached Henry's t-ball team a few years ago and mentioned that the girls were signed up this year. Guess who ended up agreeing to coach t-ball while she was feeling relaxed from the wine?

Reason #314 why Mitch is losing his hair

"Mommy!"

"Yes, Grace?"

"I found something I LOVE to do at school today, and I'm really good at it!"

"Really, what is it, Grace?"

"Chasing boys."