busy weekend

ON FRIDAY, I planted trees for the first time in 2014! It was a cool morning but warmed up nicely, and it was so so wonderful to get outside after a chilly week that included two very cooped up "sneaux days". (Hint: it didn't actually snow.)

The site was as the back of my favorite park that I've found in Louisiana so far, one of the Jean Lafitte National Park sites (there are six in the state), the Barataria Preserve. We took a short boat ride to the site, way at the back of the park. The land is actually owned by the school districts of two parishes, Jefferson and St. Charles. The districts lease the land to hunters to raise money for the schools. We put over 300 bald cypress trees in the ground to help fight the invasive Chinese Tallow tree. After the cypress trees have a while to take hold, a team will go back and kill the tallow trees, which are disrupting the ecosystem there.


a hunting blind on the flotat; we planted along a ridge between the flotat and the bayou

ON SATURDAY, I took a few friends on an adventure to Baton Rouge to try on wedding dresses. There was a store there that also has a branch in New Jersey, which will make it much easier logistically if I found something I liked. Three of my housemates (Anna Leigh, Alyssa and Hannah) and my friend from the Episcopal version of YAV (Lindsey) all came along for the ride, promising snarky and silly commentary and help. I tried on a few ridiculous gowns that are nothing at all like me, just for laughs, but we did eventually narrow it down to a likely contender. Then we all tried on funny dresses just because.


Many thanks to Anna Leigh, Hannah, Alyssa and Lindsey for help and laughter

ON SUNDAY,  I woke up early and traveled to Bayou Blue for church, and then to Morgan City for another church service which I was leading. I preached about environmental justice. It went pretty well. The church has a Confederate fort on its grounds. I explored town a little bit afterward. It was very quiet and empty, and reminded me a lot of different rust belt towns I've visited before. There was a lot of truck traffic, which makes sense for it being a pretty busy port, but hardly anyone else walking or driving down the streets.

It was a very foggy, humid morning along the Atchafalaya River. My first time seeing it! And the little red lighthouse across the river in Berwick.

The Great Inversion in the Sky

It was a fun adventure trying to explain to people what I was doing for the holidays. Wellll, going to New Jersey for a week, then to Salt Lake City, but flying into Las Vegas and driving up, but then to Bullhead City for New Year's, and then flying back to New Orleans on New Year's Day (which has since changed, but more on that another time)...

Mike came with me to Salt Lake City to celebrate the wedding of my dear sweet friend Hilary and her husband Patrick. I was honored to be a bridesmaid!



I'd only previously been to southern Utah to visit Bryce and Zion from a Las Vegassy direction (Mike too, since we went on that trip together). The drive up I-15 from Vegas to Salt Lake City involved a lot of mountains and eventually, snow. The long vistas got my head spinning a little, especially on the low sleep, high caffeine kind of way we were running through the holidays. But Mike and I took turns driving and made it the six hour drive through space and time safely.

Space and time? Oh yeah. We left Vegas at 6AM for our six hour drive. Except, I got time zones all wrong, which would be a continuing theme on this whole trip out west. Utah is on mountain time. Nevada is on Pacific time. Arizona is on whatever time it wants and that confuses me (Arizona does not observe Daylight Saving).


Salt Lake City and the Wasatch Mountains... through the seasonal smog

Anyway. Hilary and Patrick had a beautiful wedding and threw an awesome party afterward. It was so great to visit with Hilary and her husband and a few other college friends, and to dance the night away like a crazy lady.


classy people at the end of the night...


Great Salt Lake behind us, the sun in front of us...

Salt Lake City was pretty neat, but I was surprised by the smog. In winter, with the cold air at high elevation, pollution just kind of sits in the basin between the Wasatch and Oquirrh and other mountains, with warm air on top (atmospheric inversion! ask me about it sometime) holding it down. Still, lovely.


Great Salt Lake State Marina, Oquirrh Mountains

I'd like to see more of Utah. Good thing Hilary and Patrick live there. Congratulations, Lamberts! and yaaaay Utah!

Zimpel Manor

Before the eight of us were all in New Orleans together, Alex, Kalyn, Jess, Alyssa, Hannah, Anna Leigh, Sydney and I got all sorts of ridiculous comments about being prime fodder for reality TV. Scratch that, we've lived together for two and a half months and we still get snarky questions and comments constantly-- "Are you all on the same cycle yet?" "Where are the video cameras?" "That must be awful!" etc. etc.

It hasn't been without challenges. Dirty dishes (and clean dishes that need putting away), laundry room traffic, trying to balance work with ridiculous You Tube videos when hanging out in the living room, miscellaneous tiffs over miscellaneous things... we are eight human beings with infinite quirks living in one house, after all.

It hasn't been awful though, honestly. We're slowly moving from strangers somewhat peacefully coexisting into an actual community. We'll still have our disagreements and frustrations as that develops, but overall, I think we're defying everyone's expectations of being an over-dramatic nuthouse.

Last night was a rare weekend evening that we were all home. Actually, it was my first Saturday night home after a month of weekend travels for conferences and retreats. Earlier in the evening, a few of us were sitting around as I begrudgingly scheduled an appointment to go wedding dress shopping with my mom while she visits later this week (the shopping is begrudging, visiting with my mom will be great!). Alyssa and Kalyn kindly offered to help me find the perfect dress, which really turned into a hunt for the worst dress ever:


We liked the see-through bodice and choker. (source)



More see-through corset action, with side train! (source)


The veil appears to have more fabric than the entire dress. This one was appropriately found on a website called UglyDress.com! (source)

The silliness continued to later in the evening. Because I had to wake up early to get to Bayou Blue, I attempted to say goodnight early. The whole house was hanging out in the living room, laughing about... everything.



I had actually gone out to say goodnight in effort to get them to quiet down a little, but I joined in the fun instead. Cuddle attacks and continued joking about awful wedding gowns and bachelorette party plans (at which point I threatened to secretly move out and hide down the bayou for the rest of the year) kept the laughter going.




I ended up forcing myself to go to bed, because despite the extra hour of sleep from the end of daylight saving, I knew I'd be exhausted today if I didn't. But I didn't mind the continued laughter. It was just fun in a quiet sort of way (as in calm and unassuming, most definitely not as in volume) to all be together and laugh about nothing in particular. No matter what reality show drama type expectations people have when they hear about our household, I drifted off to sleep with my ear plugs in, smiling about the strange but happy little community we're creating here in New Orleans.

Joy to me too!

 

Something I've been looking forward to for a while, was that Brittany got us tickets to see Josh Ritter and the Royal City Band at the 9:30 Club. So this happened last night.

There is exactly one thing in my life that I'm totally, hopelessly fan girl about. (All right, fine, that's not entirely true, but the all of the other things that get me giddy excited are stuff like champion trees, and charismatic geomorphology, and soil surveys.) I've been listening to Josh Ritter since the end of college, and went to my first show just about three years ago. This was my sixth time seeing Josh Ritter, fourth time backed by the full band. These shows are just awesome. Josh is a great performer, witty and gracious and always so positive. The whole band is brilliantly talented, and always look like they're having such a good time.

In addition to being an all around beautiful person, Brittany has this uncanny ability to actually meet and speak with all of her favorite musicians-- Hanson, Rhett Miller, Ben Kweller, Joe Pug. So not only do I get to have a blast at a great show with this girl I adore, but I also have someone encouraging me to find and actually speak with Josh and company.

The show was awesome, as I expected. After, Britt and I waited for the crowd to clear out a little, scored a couple of Josh Ritter's guitar picks from the stage crew, and went to wait by the tour bus that we noticed parked on the side street when we walked in earlier. And after about an hour of standing around being giddy and ridiculous, we watched as Zack Hickman and Sam Kassirer (bass and keys, respectively) walked by, slightly aloof, trying to see what was going on around them but avoiding eye contact as they hurried on the bus. But then, there was Austin Nevins (guitar among other things).

He walked around the corner with a bag in his right hand, and shifted it to his left hand. Brittany's eyes lit up-- she took this as a sign! He must want to shake our hands! And he did. Austin stopped and talked with us for a while. Trying my best to not be totally anxious and awkward, and trying to keep the conversation going, I asked where were his favorite places he's played. I quickly realized in my head that I was asking that question looking for answers about places and travel, but kind of hoped he took it as a question about venues, because I didn't want to get all hyped up about geography and be even more anxious/ weird/ awkward. But he answered: Japan. Cuba. Europe.

Europe?! Europe is not just one country. And of course, I had to open my mouth and say something about that. And then rant on about people constantly referring to Africa like it's one country.

And just as Austin exclaimed with a smile, "Are you giving me shit about geography?!", Brittany laughs at me, "Less than five minutes before we're talking about geography!". Oh no. I am so weird. My stomach hurt. My brain was short circuiting at this point. Well, that's not entirely true. My brain was short circuiting the. entire. time.

So just as this is going down... Josh Ritter walks around the corner. We want to keep talking with Austin because he was really cool, but we also didn't want to miss this opportunity. Brittany and this other guy who was hanging out with us kept talking with Austin and-- something about being around Brittany made me really, really brave-- I reached out my hand as he walked past, and rambled nervously, "Wait, can I thank you? Can I thank you for your music?"

(Amazingly, this is a significant improvement in communication compared to the first time I saw him in concert, and ran into him on the stairs after the show, literally ran into him, and just kind of smiled idiotically and stood there in the way.)

And he stopped. And kind of paused. And shook my hand. And thanked me back.

Thank goodness for my wonderful, amazing friend Brittany. While I was being dumbfounded, she asked if she could get a picture. Josh put his arm around me and we got the other guy hanging out by the bus to get a photo of us with Austin, too. And this was all just happening, really happening.

I was really disappointed to lose Austin in the shuffle, because he was so kind to just stop and chat with us a while. But Josh was also kind, and just as gracious and joyful as I hoped he'd be in real life. Like, these are real people, who are really excited about what they do, and excited to talk about it with other excited people, despite how nervous/ anxious/ ridiculous/ etc. they were trying desperately not to be.

By "they" I mean me.

So awesome. So, so awesome.

Kätzchen

I'm excited to head back to New Jersey on Wednesday, but I've received some sad news: my little black cat  won't be there when I get back.




Kätzchen came home from the shelter as my 15th birthday present. I'd always been fond of black cats. My next door neighbors growing up, John and Ginny, had a sweet little old (and I mean OLD, John knew he'd had him for 23) black cat named Nemo. We couldn't have a cat because our dog Abby, as awesome as she was, was a bit jealous of other pets. So after she died at the beginning of freshman year of high school, Mom blindfolded me and took me to the shelter to pick out a cat.

I cried. It was too soon. But we went through with it. I'm glad we did.



There were three black cats at the shelter, all about ten months old. I held each one. Two of them quickly leaped out of my arms. The third one hung out for a minute or two before peacing out. That clever cat was my Kätzchen, who would never willingly let anyone hold her again as long as she lived with us. She was well aware of whose she was though-- mine. She often slept on my bed, sometimes on my feet, sometimes under the blanket next to my stomach, sometimes over my head as earmuffs.

She was kind of weird. She never really figured out how to meow properly, making weird lamb sounds instead. She was super soft, which may be why she sneezed ALL. THE. TIME. I swear she was allergic to cats. But she was my soft little black cat.

I'm sitting here trying to figure out what to write, but it's not like we had excellent capers like Rumple and I did. She was an indoor cat. But I will greatly miss her warm, quiet presence. I'm grateful that my parents and our vet ended the sudden suffering, but I'm very, very sad that she will not be there when I get back Wednesday night. This was my cat, the petite black cat that convinced me I like both dogs AND cats, pretty equally.



I miss my cat.

There are planets you don't know and there are moons that you don't see

While we probably all well know that I am a big, big fan of Mr. Ritter's, this is not a song I am usually drawn to. It was in my head during this morning's pre-dawn commute under a very full moon...

Last month's full moon coincided with a rather big storm that we're only beginning to truly understand the scale of. A full moon high tide is responsible for minor flooding on a regular basis, even without winds and rain. I remember thinking about this going into the storm. Sitting down to lunch with the state climatologist a couple of weeks after the storm, he argued that the first high tide as Sandy and the full moon approached probably saved a lot of lives, scaring people off the islands as the water rose quickly well in advance of the actual storm. We all know that the various unprecedented factors of Sandy-- her size, her record breaking low pressure, her exceptional path, her combination with the second major storm front, her making landfall in the most densely populated part of the country, and of course that full moon-- made a serious impact on our landscape and our lives in the region.

New Jersey (and New York) won't be the same. The damages in NJ are almost as costly as the state's operating budget for the next year*. Trying to wrap one's mind around how much has changed is its own challenge. Trying to stay positive in light of many complicated questions about the rebuilding process is its own challenge. Trying to focus on other aspects of life and not be totally overwhelmed mourning the places and memories of my childhood is its own challenge. This has not been easy.

But then, there's this month's full moon. Many towns are still struggling with the aftermath and destruction of what happened under the last full moon, but the one I saw this morning on my drive to William Paterson was stunning and bright, and under this month's full moon, there was some joy. Julie and Matt welcomed baby Ryan to the world. Babies are neat, because they come without a care for things like hurricane damage or how the world around his has changed drastically since his childhood, because his childhood is ahead of him. He just gets to hang out and be loved. How peaceful and wonderful is that?

So, this morning, I'm thinking about the month between these full moons, and taking comfort in the little things, the good things, that come out of times like these. Life moves on, and today, that's a pretty reassuring thought. Welcome to the world, little one!



Edited to add--
*of course this has already been updated. After weeks of keeping numbers quiet, the initial cost of damages was released as being over $29 billion, which is nearly the $31.4ish billion budget for NJ for the next fiscal year. A revised number was released today: $36.8 billion.

another sign of being a bit nomadic

In an email exchange with Taylor this afternoon, I told him I had showered and was working on my thesis defense presentation. His response:

"You just showered? Aren't you at Rutgers? What? I lost you."

Amazing how that happens sometimes, eh? You don't talk to me for an hour and suddenly I'm somewhere else entirely!

(For the record, Rutgers does have showers in the building that houses the Department of Geography, but I was, in fact, at home.)

about to head to VA for a few days...

"VA is excited that you're heading home!"

That Becky Trytten is such an instigator... but I enjoy her encouragement.

I think this stuff matters.

I am constantly awestruck by the interconnectedness of the little things in my life.

This is going to get long, and I am not going to apologize for it, because I'm writing it here because I want to remember it because it was a cool day.

I planned on sharing my Johnsonburg Presbyterian Center-New Jersey related adventures in this blog. My first visit, however, did not lend itself to anything particularly exciting: Brick. Just around the corner. The boss and I did a few presentations, but then sat with a few youth advisors to act as a sort of sounding board for their challenges in youth ministry-- mainly that junior high kids are buttheads and all that comes with that. I'm fortunate in that my own middle school kids are kind of jerks but it's kind of endearing. I could definitely relate to their struggles and I think it was a mutually productive dialogue.

So, today was a really interesting and meaningful and... words are failing me. I'm trying to say that it all flowed and tied together nicely, but in one word. Does anyone know that word?

My day was really focused on two things: a Presbytery meeting in Sayreville and visiting one of my youth in the hospital in New Brunswick. Close enough together that it was totally convenient. I had a really good visit with the youth. She is a freshman in high school and has all sorts of angst about being in the hospital, even though she really needs to be there right now. She is a great kid and it pained me to see her in a not so great state, which she seemed only moderately aware of. ("I'm feeling better. I want to go home.") I was really glad that I could visit her today. I hope that when I work with the youth, I'm making some sort of positive difference. They certainly impact me.

I left New Brunswick for Sayreville during rush hour, so stopped to console myself with a cup of tea from a Wawa on the way. As I walked in, I noticed a car that was just... a hunk of junk. Probably early 90s, bumper kinda falling off, plastic and tape in lieu of passenger window. I made my tea and spotted a family who I suspected belonged to the car-- kind of poorly dressed, not very clean or neat, not very healthy looking. As I walked back to my car, my suspicion was confirmed. I saw them sitting in the car eating. Something tells me that mom and her two kids were living in that car. I know that poverty exists in New Jersey-- by no means is Sayreville a totally upscale town-- but it's still kind of surprising and saddening to see such an example. My first thought though, was actually a question someone asked me in Malawi: is there poverty in America?

I had to think about that question for a moment before answering the person. Yes, yes there is, but it's different. I think I told them it wasn't as severe, but sitting here now, I hesitate to say that it's better or worse. I'd say it's different. The best example I could give to the person asking was Appalachia. That's kind of an inadequate answer though. Yes, there is widespread poverty and lack of resources in that part of the United States, and was kind of similar to the way people are lacking access to resources in Malawi. But poverty is just different here, and it's startling how it shows up sometimes.

I went to Presbytery. This was the Presbytery of Monmouth, my home Presbytery, so I expected to see a few familiar faces from the area. (By the way, for those of you who are not deeply entrenched in Presbyterianism, Presbyterian churches: Presbytery:: towns/ villages/ depending on the state you're in, cities: counties.) Some of my interactions--

Rev. Gary, from Jamesburg: This is a man I've known for a long time through Johnsonburg. He immediately recognized me and was very encouraging about my working at camp. I'd been thinking of him all day, not just because I knew I'd probably see him tonight, but because he taught me something very important about visitation a long time ago-- don't ask the patient how they're doing. They're in a hospital or nursing home, they are obviously not well. Don't remind them. I was very careful not to ask my youth group kid how she was doing today. We had a very lively conversation going, completely distracted from her grizzly treatment (blood washing, to be followed by a transfusion). The hospital chaplain came in and said, "How are you doing?" and the youth noticeably shrank back and got a little upset. It was incredible how quickly the tone changed. The chaplain was a very nice lady and it was an otherwise pleasant visit but she could really stand to go to the Gary school of visitation.

Dan, an elder from my own church: who shared with me that our session has agreed to support Villages in Partnership in a greater way this year, funding very specifically the next nine villages taken on under this project. Nine villages! Can you imagine the impact of clean water close by? Goats? Chickens? Maybe even schools?

Rev. Stephen, from Allentown: This is where Villages in Partnership got started. The Liz who I was in Malawi with this summer is his wife. It was really great to see him not just because of my general excitement about their work in Malawi, but because Malawi was sticking out in my brain after my earlier experience at the Wawa. The first thing he said was, "I had a really great conversation with your pastor today about some villages." I am so proud to be part of this.

Rev. Barbara, from Lakewood: She served in Toms River as our youth pastor before going to Lakewood. She was slightly before my time. My older brother was in her youth group as a junior high, and I was always really impressed that she always knew who I was even though I wasn't old enough for youth group yet. I was amazed that she remembered me, my last name, who my brother was (and that there was a third child, even younger, even less associated with her work at my church). She asked after Chris in particular though, saying she was even thinking about him recently, having a conversation with one of his old youth group leaders about how youth suddenly become adults, and how Chris always really liked to vacuum, and what was he doing now. Obscure thing for her to remember from only witnessing it once or twice at a retreat or something, but she clearly remembered my brother, which just reminded me how important these relationships between youth and their positive influence adult counterpart people really are. (And I told Barbara that Chris is well-- he is married, and has a house, a job, a dog, and a vacuum cleaner.)

Lastly, but hardly least, Becca, someone I know from back in the day at Johnsonburg (circa 2003) and have stayed loosely in touch with but have always been a fan of. I saw her signing in with her father and we chatted briefly about her life at Princeton Seminary and my life generally floating around. I didn't realize why she was there at Presbytery. She was being accepted as an official Inquirer (meaning, our Presbytery supports and encourages the fact that she is seeking to be an ordained minister). Some of her pastors spoke of her as a youth, and after she spoke a few words and left the room, Presbytery unanimously agreed to support her. I was really excited about this. Becca is a really sweet and awesome lady, and is bringing all sorts of Johnsonburg and youth and Presbyterian love to the table. It was very cool to be there for that.

And now I'm home. I regret not staying for the rest of the meeting.

It was a strangely fulfilling day. The world really is a big old web of connectedness. It's kind of incredible. Whether you are Presbyterian or any sort of religious adherent at all or not, you must admit that the sort of weaving of themes throughout my day was kind of awesome. I'm feeling pretty deeply moved by it all. I think this stuff matters.

And, as a post script following the theme of interconnectedness and community and the fact that I came home and caught the second half of the State of the Union address, I'd like to see more purple ties in the future. I just think it would be a nice gesture.

I'll hop to it... later...

This little exchange happened on facebook around 2 this afternoon:

It made me giggle a little bit. It seems that my cousin's girlfriend does not know of my history of last minute packing (see here, here). I'll get started sometime after dinner. My friends Jamie and Bailey will be joining me as somewhat per tradition-- Jamie and I always seem to be over each other's houses as the other packs at the last minute for some major travels, but I think this is Bailey's first experience aiding in the procrastination/fun of that. My parents are taking me to the airport, leaving home about 6.30 AM for my 11.15 flight from JFK. I don't foresee a stellar night's sleep tonight anyway, since 1. I am already starting to fall victim to Christmas Eve syndrome with the excitement and all, and 2. I have over 15 hours to catch up on sleep as I fly from JFK to Johannesburg (and then a couple more from Joburg to Blantyre, Malawi). Something tells me this will all work out just fine!

a tale of two creatures who both get ridiculously car sick

I don't usually update this from home base (Toms River), but there's a theme here.

I've been in Toms River for the past six days. I made the trip from my work (about 2 hours) to hang out at home for Fathers Day (my first in the country since college!) and just relax a bit with my family and friends and animals.

Sunday, my parents and older brother and I went up north to spend Dad Day itself with some other fathers I'm related to-- my uncle, my grandfather. I rode with big brother, who is a fine driver, but for whatever reason, the stars were aligned, the sun was in my face, there was stop and go traffic, my medicine makes me groggy, I felt pretty sick for the majority of the trip. Know what though? The irony found within my love of roadtrips and travelling in general is that I am the car-sickest person I think I know. I mean, I've been known to get super nauseous, even need to stop and actually get sick, while driving. While driving! So just imagine me as a passenger for more than five minutes. Dramamine? Makes me sicker. I'm hopeless.

The other real reason I came home was to see my dog. Rumple's been riddled with various types of cancer for the past year and a half or more. She's really hung in there; labs are notoriously stoic. She was diagnosed with a second cancer a few months ago and put on the same pain medicine I take for my pain disorder, and responded so well that we've just kind of kept things that way since then. I was glad to move back home when my funding at Rutgers was up this spring, and hang out with my dog all the time. She's a good companion. She's slept on or next to my bed for years and years. She's my bud. And she's not comfortable anymore. So we have come to the very difficult conclusion that it's time, and will be visiting the vet for the last time this evening.



In our last days together, I've thought a lot about her company over the years. We got her when I was a freshman in high school, around the time that I had mono. The little puppy would sleep all curled up on my shoulder as I napped the days away. However, an even earlier memory of sweet Rumple is when I first met her. Mom and my big brother brought her home from a shelter, absolutely frothing at the mouth. My reaction to the very tiny lab-pit bull mix? Holy crap guys, way to pick the rabid one. She was perfectly healthy though, aside from being royally car sick. After we lost our first dog, Abby, who loved car rides, we vowed that any dog who subsequently joined the family would be brought everywhere. Except, Rumple hates the car so much we often have to take her out the back door and pretend we're not going for a car ride. In fact, training her as a puppy, when she was in big trouble, we'd just rattle the keys and she'd go hide in a corner. Ridiculous.

I took her to the beach for a little while a few nights ago. It was a warm night and no one was around. It's not a long car ride, but we both needed the sea air to settle our stomachs as we walked a few blocks in the sand. Know what though? I wouldn't have her any other way. Someone needs to sympathize with me about carsickness. Luckily our relationship was about more than that. It was about eating cheese and walking on the beach and keeping my feet warm at night and petting her on the nose and playing outside and just being good buds.

I'm going to miss her.

America is connected to Canada!

Last night, I woke with a start around midnight, and felt I really, really needed to reread a text message sent to me over the weekend.

Let me explain. A few of my good friends from college are currently driving across America, having left a few days after our graduation and getting home in another week and change. When I told them that the Canada trippers and I would be flying home from Seattle at the end of our journey, and they told me they'd be passing through Seattle, I suggested they leave me something.

I didn't think they'd follow through!

Sunday, I was at a loud show on the boardwalk with some friends, and slightly distracted, so I read the text from Jeremy, "Seattle. 2nd and Battery St. Bellino Coffee... Love, America." I thought it was just a really sweet here we are, thought we'd say hi type dealy.

Tuesday night, I read the following:
"Seattle. 2nd and Battery St. Bellino Coffee. Right bookcase, behind selected poems of Robert Browning. Object hidden. Love, America"


Just one more thing to be super excited about, even though Jamie, Amanda and Katie have never met the America boys, and Ross, Matt, Jeff and Jeremy have never met the Canada girls! Jamie and Katie and I have all graduated and come home and are waiting patiently for Amanda to graduate at the end of the month so we can finish our planning and embark on an excellent adventure!