Archive for May, 2015

Polytheism and You… A common guide on what it actually represents.

Posted in About me on May 19, 2015 by Tyrienne

“I HATE Christianity! I hate everything about it! I hate how I was baptized/confirmed against my will! That it was conversion of my ancestors by the sword! I hate that it killed my ancestral ways and trapped my Gods under black cloths of secrecy and threatened my ancestors with Death to worship what is Ours by Riiiiiiight!   RAAAAWR! THONGAR ANGRY!!!!!…..”


…. Yeah, that’s pretty much every sumbel I’ve attended, how about you?  (I attend many sumbels).   The question is this,  “why” do you hate another person’s religion? (if you do- not saying that all readers of this blog are included in the vague generalization of the “type” who would state the first sentence.)

We are polytheists, our ancestors were the greatest traders of Europe, we interacted peacefully with a myriad of cultures the world over through epic explorations- and here I am, “Hi, I’m raised Heathen and Jesus never bothered me!”  (and I will explain why.) Even though I was shipped through the Lutheran church begrudgingly for communion and confirmation classes like every other German family ever….except for those who were shuffled through the Moravians or AnaBaptists.

However, some of his followers…?  Man, please…. we all share the common belief that the universe was created by an unfathomable intelligent process-  Please keep your Children inside. We don’t try to convert your people!

Trust me on this- if a God wants to be in someone’s life, they will make it abundantly clear….and either you end up Religious and completely encompassed by Heathenry or on a super-strong dosage of Depakote (sometimes, both, I wouldn’t rule out it falls under the whole “Wounded healers” precedent…)

In any case, as polytheistic people who practice worship of a multitude of God archetypes across all forms of Heathenry, Asatru, and even Urglaawe, the private belief systems of other people is really none of our damned business just so long as it does not interfere with our own practices of worship.   And as far as religions go, our “Requirements” can not be simpler: Grant us the same protections as other faiths regarding anti discrimination policies and  federal recognition: Then, Leave us alone to worship our Gods peacefully and grant us the ability to steward the land:  woods, farm, and/or homes

Ultimately, all of you reading this should know your roots as well as Gods who you may be drawn to of other pantheons.  May they be of similar archetype to a Heathen counterpart you have yet to have named- or if your polytheistic practice includes the occasional “Oddity” (I have an altar to Inari, for instance…. no other “Japan Connection”; just Inari) Just remind yourself: “I am a polytheist.  I believe in the existence of multiple benevolent Deities- even if it makes so sense, I am Thankful for the blessings and guidance I am given to lead a fulfilling, meaningful, and productive life where my passing through Midgard leaves a positive legacy to the world more than negative.”

I realize my posts have been a bit “dry” lately;  being a polytheist often means one’s attentions sometimes need to be directed towards other Gods/Archetypes, which, in turn, imbue those qualities (hopefully) into the worshiper.

Today, I redid some altars in preparation for our upcoming move- removing dead flowers, re-assigning offerings that seem more appropriate elsewhere, and giving Hel/Holle a much larger, cleaner, place of Her own instead of sharing a cramped shelf with her packrat Father.

My New/Improved Loki Space

My New/Improved Loki Space

This is a short shot of my Loki altar.  I do some taxidermy so you will find behind him the preserved wing of a hawk (roadkill is awesome), two raven wings, and a beaded raven claw.  This is not my favorite statue on the market, I have NEVER pictured him with a long beard and the body type is a bit Zaftig.  If anyone is willing to trade for the unbearded I’m willing to hear it.  Mostly, though- there are stones and little knick-knacks including the UPG favorite: flavored grape tootsie rolls.  He preserved the violet roses well when they were a fresh offering, and the symbol for the AFA is at his feet, knowing that he doesn’t particularly care who does or does not accept him- however, I personally believe those who worship Loki as part of their personal pantheon should continue to work towards gaining greater respect and acceptance for Loki and what he truly represents: Cunning, Intelligence, speaking the hard truths, as well as being the kind God of the broken and outcasts.  Ultimately, my Loki-altars always look a bit like the nest of crows- just bits of little shiny things that HE seems to dig. But, then again, I ended up moving a few of his items today over to Tyr.

Complicated altars are entirely optional in Heathenry- they simply serve as “focal points” to help us better with our intentions/concentration.  I posted my altar in this post since I believe I have not posted a picture of it in some time and people have asked what it looks like.   My offerings I give Him are usually either candy, strange-but relavent toys (that I usually end up giving to children eventually) and fire in both candle or incense form.  On really bad days, he gets a small shot glass of chamomile tea as does Hel/Holle’s altar.

Altar practices are found in almost every world faith, Especially Christianity whose text specifically forbids “Graven images” as they bow before their God’s murder weapon or His image either in suffering or hand extended in comfort in “fluffier” churches.

To me, it would be like Baldrsvolk worshiping their Patron by wearing mistletoe arrow necklaces!  We have a dead/not dead/eternal God too, Christians!

I find it interesting how despite most Heathens in the USA have at least a passing knowledge of Christianity in some family tradition or another, but are more willing to come to almost fistfights over which Heathen Gods are/are not worthy of our Thankfulness (The answer is ALL of them= Gods>Humans {Unless named “Bragi”, then disregard})

Anyway, the point I want to make is this.   In being called to the Heathen Gods (if you feel as such), you are accepting that there are a multitude of benevolent things in this universe that possess more knowledge than the entirety of humanity but yet STILL do not know everything…. Unless the Guningganap forms itself into a speaking entity to explain to us of how the entirety of the universe exists without exploding our puny minds, the same pretty much goes for everyone else- in every religion.

I am repetitive sometimes, I know that- but know this: No one has a monopoly on knowledge- and the only absolute in this world is that we absolutely cannot know anything with 100% conclusiveness.

Therefore, as Heathens- we are not only responsible for protecting our own traditions and the continued safe worship of our Gods, but we are also charged with the protection of other polytheistic faiths- and we strengthen each other in events such as “Pagan Pride.”

Even in dealings with monotheists who may even be loved ones- their religion offers them comfort;   you cannot prove that Jesus did/does not exist, and they cannot prove that Woten did/does not exist.


So, with that in mind- I follow my grandma’s motto: “If you worry for someone, pray to their Gods because your Gods might not know them so well.”

P.S.  This is the post that was slipped out of my fingers prior to me finishing it!  Thank you for reading exactly 2 unedited paragraphs and liking me anyway random 5 people!

*Blushing Furiously*

Posted in About me on May 19, 2015 by Tyrienne

Jeez, guys… I’m an old fart who can’t figure out this new-fangled wordpress interface and 5 of you still liked an unflnished, unedited post draft that escaped without my permission (yet!)

I am so unbelievably flattered! ❤

(It was the post on “Polytheism”)

Heathen Obligations Regarding Funerals.

Posted in About me on May 14, 2015 by Tyrienne
Zion's Lutheran Cemetery in Berks County, PA

Zion’s Lutheran Cemetery in Berks County, PA

I understand that many people who read this blog may be entirely new to Heathenry, coming from mostly Christian, Agnostic, or various other backgrounds- and that’s perfectly fine!  However, one aspect of Germanic culture that I’ve noticed lost in our younger generations is funeral customs.  As medicine has been advancing, funerals are much less of a regular occurrence then in the times of our great-grandparents.  With this, I am guessing basic funerary etiquette is being lost as well- since so many families avoid the topic of Death entirely.

To describe oneself as a member of any of the “Old ways” faiths from Germany (and in this, I will include the Pa Deitsch in ENTIRETY rather than just the Urglaawe)- funerals are a pretty big deal traditionally. The older members of our family still visit the graves of our ancestors around every holiday and care for them- a tradition, I realize as a Heathen, I will need to take over in the next few years on account of moving back to my home county in addition to the advancement of age of my elder relatives…. for this post, the side of the family in which we lost an elder was an “Ancestor-worship” type- meaning the belief, Christian or Heathen, is that the newly dead have three choices, stay and “watch over” the living loved ones, to go onward into where ever they wish to rest eternally in spirit, or to be reincarnated back into the family line.  This is the collection of beliefs of my father’s paternal line.  We do not talk much about Gods, so I did not mention my specific Gods which came from other parts of my lineage except in the instance I will describe later- and then, it was only a simple sentence meant to end a conversation with a stranger.

All I can write at this moment is what I was taught- and how things have changed even in my time, and perhaps try to do was little “patching and restoration” I can for other people when they are faced with death anywhere in the family.

My great aunt passed away after years of suffering Huntingdon’s disease over the weekend.   She was kind to me, but many other people didn’t particularly care for her…  which then resulted in improper communication to the entirety of the family- since after the death of our matriarch, my great-grandmother, the entire family dissolved into a mess of petty bickering.   The new “soul” of our family (I’ll explain the term shortly) lives on the opposite coast- making communication to some of the further branches even more difficult considering that gentleman has Alzheimer’s.

My Great Grandmother had some siblings, but importantly, she had seven children.  All of those children had children and grandchildren of their own- some having greater or lesser knowledge of the rest of the family.  I was lucky she was alive until I was 12 to see that “Once upon a time- everyone shut the F* up when visiting Nana and got along for Her sake.”

Honestly, that was a really nice time to be a kid- I ended up with a ton of cousins, and since I was the oldest granddaughter of the youngest of the 7- many of my cousin also became “aunts” and “uncles” to me on account of the age differences.

Okay, so here is a short list of rules I learned yesterday regarding funerals and German traditions from the under 12 people who attended the funeral:

1.  Attend all funerals of elder members of your family if possible- if you still live within 15 minutes of the “homeland’ (which to this family is Mount Penn, Pa- we’ve been here since the 1700’s) there is little excuse not to take the time.  The older people in my family, the nieces of my Great Grandmother attended the funeral, but her own brothers and sisters did not…. for the most part because they didn’t get along with her.

By my remotest relatives- my Great-Grandmother’s nieces (all daughters of different sisters and all of them at leas 70!) suggested:
“They should all go to the funerals, damnit…. and if they hated her so much, then they should have at LEAST shown up to make sure she was dead!”

Basically, yes, funerals are considered boring and time consuming- but if you want to place value and honor on belief in your Ancestors- as a Heathen- it is your responsibility to recognize and attend when a family member is officially recognized as crossing over from “Family member” into “Ancestor territory”.

2.  Family funerals are the same thing as family reunions in many cases and vital to the strength and unity of the descendants. So many people feel alone and broken, and much of that reason is they do not realize that if they have suffered something, so have others who may be closely related to them.  Sometimes, the only way to find the explanation to your problems with your health (physical or mental)- is to take advantage of funeral time to re-introduce (or in my cousin’s case, introduce himself, period) to the rest of the family.    I met a second cousin yesterday who was adopted out at 11 years old, now he’s a young adult in the military and extraordinarily intelligent and interested in genealogy… he was also a dead-ringer for my grandfather’s pictures from him at that age.  My Pa Dutch grandfather is still alive, and was unable to attend the service on account of being in Florida…. however, because of the funeral, I was able to connect my genealogy-mad cousin with his Great Uncle, my grandfather, whose hobby has been the genealogy of our line.

3. There is always a “heart” of the family- someone who has the seemingly magical ability to be in-touch with more family members than anyone else.   In this case, although an intelligent man- he lives in Washington State.  Why is he the “Heart”? I am guessing it’s simply because he put the most belief and research into the mystical traditions of our family- and somehow, was given the gift to manage not to offend anyone.   There is no family member I have heard say “I dislike Uncle Harry”- because, well, it’s pretty impossible to dislike the guy.  His mother before him had a strong personality, to be certain and they have very different personalities- but I can’t say I didn’t strongly wish he had more time to make it here.

4. If you can’t make the funeral, send flowers.  I don’t care if you hated her- go on the local florist website and get the $20 special- she still has grieving family members behind who think of her fondly.

5.  If you consider yourself Heathen, and this is the most important, if you see things that need to be done and people who need to be contacted: Do it yourself.  Don’t rely on who is “supposed” to.  Modern culture is largely rootless, and it is better to quietly and expediently help in all ways possible to support the primary family members who have taken on the burden of scheduling the funeral.  If no one has called your 2nd cousin and you know how to get him on the phone? Call him/her.  If there are momentos you have from the deceased (photographs, etc)- bring them with to share with the grieving.

I am literally the great-niece of the deceased, however, her son was very rapidly in a coma at her time of death- leaving one sister in Maryland to take care of all the funeral arrangements.  A funeral should NEVER fall entirely on the back of a single person if there is a larger family.  Instead of getting resentful and angry- just do what needs to be done yourself.  It’s good Frith, and very good for the family orlog.  It doesn’t matter what your birth order is, you will learn greater kindness if you do the work that others left unfinished- in addition, you will then be able to connect people who need to be connected much more easily by building trust with your extended family.

There are many fractures and breaks in most large families where people for whatever reason are not on speaking terms.  It is not your job to force them to “get over it”- however, it is the kind thing to make certain both parties are informed of the death.  In the case of my family- with my “Uncle Cousin” in the ICU-  there are people who want to make amends and heal rifts.  Sometimes, a funeral is the best chance to start that process- and in healing those rifts, the family is stronger for it.

Sometimes, it’s the only way to know that “Aunt So-in-So” hasn’t called you back in a year because she’s been struggling in some way.  Many Germans fear being a “burden” on their loved one’s in their declining years- but imagine being awake and lucid and dying completely alone= that’s terrifying, and I feel no one should have a death alone while relatives still live.  It’s our responsibility to know who is sick among our elders, and if are able, to spend time with them and learn what we can from them.   We do not have that chance after they’re gone to the same extent.

If Heathenry is all about Folk, Family, Frith, etc….then it must be equally applied to one’s own blood relations, not just your “Heathen Family” you have via your Kindreds, organizations, or social groups.

SPECIAL NOTICE:  Most funerals you attend in the United States will be Christian, and even if you despise Christianity, out of respect for the dead, also understand that by being Heathen, we are inherently polytheists.  Did Jesus exist?  I don’t know- but Aunt Shirley believed in him and it’s her funeral.   You do greater dishonor by disrespecting the religion of the deceased than by just being respectful.

A few people asked my religion at the service- and because we’re Deitsch, I could tell the older family members I was “Pow-Wow”- the local word for Braucher/Hexer.  For people who were not so old, I explained I worship the Old German Gods briefly, I’m clergy, but I’m respectful of all faiths.

The only brief moment of “religious clash” that occurred was regarding the minister when he learned I do some multi-faith chaplaincy and the “conversation” lasted under a minute:
Pastor: “Have you considered turning to Jesus?”
Me: “My Religion doesn’t send people to convert others to their God; people who feel called to our Gods seek us out.”

This conversation was private and not-showy- but I was very clear that I was no threat to his congregation and not interested in further religious discussion at my Great Aunt’s funeral.  Keeping a strong, Heathen stance doesn’t mean shouting your Heathen-hood from the rooftops, a quiet sentence can solve a problem of unrest more quickly than any spectacle.  The funeral said very little about my aunt and appeared to be a 15 minute long advertisement for Christianity.

Keep in mind, even if your family members are not Heathen, a funeral is not a time to speak up on this common practice unless asked or confronted directly.  Be assured, no one anywhere enjoys listening to someone claiming a monopoly on spiritual knowledge. I know many Heathens have made scenes in their own families when this happens- but I feel this to be unnecessary unless the deceased is misrepresented in their OWN faith.  In the Rare instance your dead relative OPENLY Heathen deceased, Christian funeral by well-meaning Christian descendants- if that is the case, ask/offer to give a reading from “Their favorite book” and read from the Hamaval.

Actually, know what?  Offer that service regardless- even if your Great Uncle Lucius was a Hindu, offer to read from the Bhagavah Gita for his memory.  You might be rejected by the presiding minister, but usually, they are understanding in most traditions.  (As a Lokean, I suggest phrasing it as ” Reading a little from His/Her favorite book”- That, is seldom rejected unless time is not permitting…however, some Heathens feel that might be disingenuous.)  Whatever your own ethical standard dictates is usually a good guide in these matters.

This was not the case in my great aunt- she was Christian, so in this funeral it was unnecessary to offer this service. However, I have been to other funerals where the deceased was Heathen but his Blood-family was Christian, in that funeral, many people spoke from the Hamaval and en Deitsch for him in the service. (However, the service ended up incredibly long!)

In conclusion-  if you want to be Heathen, start with your own blood and work out.  You can still be Heathen surrounded by Christians and provide an example to others of Frith, Strength, and Fidelity at the time your own blood needs it most.

Heathen or not.

The Epic Battle of the Rose Bush Rescue.

Posted in About me on May 3, 2015 by Tyrienne
From Wikicommons

From Wikicommons- I’ll add a picture of the bush when it’s a little recovered from all the shock

Yesterday, my father and my brother met me at what is (hopefully!) going to be our new home.   It’s about half a mile from my Braucher great grandmother’s house where she used to practice (when I was born- she had already moved to Florida).   Turns out she did one Hel (ha!) of a Landsagen (Land-taking- but I have no idea how to spell it!)  Her descendants lived within a mile of her house for years.

Also, within a few minutes drive was my Great-Nana Helen’s, who I called Nana Cookie (she ALWAYS had cookies) who came over from Austria/Hungary (Macedonia) when she was a small child during WWI.

She lived until I was 12- her husband, Pop Howard, lived until I was three years old, but he’s pretty much haunted the shit out of us for a while, in a good way.  He was 100% Pennsylvania Dutch with roots going back into Mount Penn, Reading, and Exeter Pennsylvania leading all the way back to settlement.

When I was a small child, we would visit Nana Cookie every month as much as we were able- she was in her late 80’s and lived to be in her early 90’s.  Every time we would visit, she would be sitting in the same rocking chair by her beautiful picture window that overlooked her rose garden.  She loved her roses-  She had a small house, but she even had a full white arbor covered in the grape vine our family snuck out of Austria as well as a wonderful wild rose we could smell from a block away (which drove everyone nuts because it had more thorns than any other rose in existence).  Her very favorite roses, however, were the tea-roses my grandparents bought her that were outside of her window.   A pink one from the 1960’s and a yellow one likely purchased in the 1980’s.  She had others- but those two seemed to just thrive the most consistently and successfully.

After my brother and father checked out the house my spouse and I wished to purchase and gave his blessing, nostalgia brought up back to Nana Cookie’s street- where, to our great dismay, we discovered her house was completely abandoned!  Totally ruined- a twin house where her side of the twin almost seem to melt and fall on “her” side.  The lawn hadn’t been mowed in what looked like years, and it was just…well, heartbreaking.  I had a lot of good memories her and that house and so did my father.

However, in the side yard in the absolute mess of overgrown lawn there was a single rosebush left- it was huge, ancient, and still sprouting leaves- and a sort of madness came over me.  I was still awaiting to hear back from the realtor about the house we placed a bid on and I was a nervous wreck.  I needed to occupy myself- so as soon as Dad dropped me off,  I got my shovel and a large bucket from my apartment and drove back to the street on which Pop Howard and Nana Cookie once resided.

I first stopped by what used to be my cousins house only to discover he had moved a while ago- I wanted to ask his permission because she was his grandmother.  Nana Cookie was my Great-grandmother, and if anyone had “dibs” it would be him. I was in the clear.  I called my in-laws to make certain they wouldn’t mind “rose sitting” until settlement-again, I was in the clear.

So, at about 7:30 pm last night, I began clearing away the weeds and large amounts of grass around the rose bush.  I didn’t own any work gloves, and I didn’t bring any snips or cutters- however, Pop Howard had a “Secret shed”- a door, that when opened, just revealed more siding….all the other doors were realtor-locked including the basement… however, the “Secret shed” was still open.  Hidden here was his tetanus-city of discarded things.  In this, I found not only a pair of gloves, but an ancient rusty saw as well as a t-shirt of my cousin’s. (To which I said- “Thanks Pop! But I’m good- I’ll just keep wearing what I have!”)

I felt encouraged.   So, gloves on hands, I started to dig.  Within 5 minutes or less, I received a call from my realtor informing me of a counter-offer (which I accepted!)…and as a dug further, a neighbor’s dog noticed me and just wouldn’t stop barking.  I approached the owner of the dog and I explained “Hey, this used to be my great-grandmother’s house and my dad and I passed by earlier and noticed it was abandoned.  I’m just trying to save her rosebush to plant into our new garden when we move.”

The neighbor actually remembered me from when I was little- she lived with her brother and both of them loved my great grandparents dearly.   Granted, they thought I was insane to tackling this overgrown monster of a rosebush, but they still lent me the rest of the tools I needed to get it out…. my Dad kept texting me to say “hi” to them and various historical things about the helpful neighbors and such which I responded in one-word answers seeing as I was fighting to get the rosebush out and safe as could before my paranoia set in and I was convinced the police would appear magically to lock me away for rose-theft…. to my relief, no one on the street cared the slightest I was there- and indicated the house was likely to be torn down, anyway.

It took over 2 hours working alone in the dark- the rose had been attacked by rose-borers and still survived.  With borrowed snips I cut off all the grey and the dead, as well as kept cutting back until I reached “clean stem” with no borer holes.  The entire time sounding like a lunatic for talking out loud to my dead-great grandfather for help and getting absolutely covered in thorns pricks, scratches, and splinters.  After all was said and done, the bush, even trimmed, was well over 7 feet tall not including the roots- roots which went so deep, they entered into clay my shovel couldn’t penetrate.  I had no choice but to use the rusty saw to cut the main root (as thick as my wrist-and 2 roots combined, no less!) as close to the clay as possible- but after patience, I succeeded in freeing the ancient thing from the surrounding chaos.  Even with the main root “cut”- the remaining root ball was the size of a basketball.  I think it will survive (I hope!)

.   The rose didn’t even fit in the bucket I brought so I had the clean out the trunk of all Ed’s martial art’s gear, and tried to gently coax it to fit in the trunk (after I tried every single attempt at fitting it in various positions into the front seat/back seat of my sedan.)   In the end, I regretfully had to trim it back even further- but closed the trunk as gently as I could on some of the “softer” new growth hoping not to wound the poor thing further than I had already.

I was having a mild asthma attack- woozy, tired, covered in thorns, and dizzy as heck as I drove to my inlaws.  I literally stumbled into their door saying something like “IgottherosebushinmycarandIneedaninhalerandsomewaterplease” before I sort of collapsed on the couch.   My sister in law also has asthma- so that was excellent- same prescription.  So- I waited to catch my breath as my father in law went outside to find a big enough pot for this gigantic tree of a rosebush….telling my sister in law I would need her help as soon as I caught my breath (which was always “in another 10 minutes”).

We noticed Ed’s Dad (my father in law) was missing for quite sometime- so I went to search for him.  Turns out he got into my car- figured out how to get to the trunk- and took out the rosebush by himself with no issue, potted it with GOOD potting soil, fed it, and watered it.  I was so grateful beyond words at having such amazing in-laws.

Not that I am a huge proponent of caring about my family’s collective opinions on my actions most of the time- I can honestly say I was, and still am very proud of myself for getting that rosebush rescued from its personal hell.   Nana Cookie and Pop really cared for those flowers, and there was just something in my gut that just would not let me give up on it.

I didn’t care it was over 7ft tall (the unkempt lawn made it seem oh-so-much-smaller), I didn’t care that I still have thorns embedded in my skin- because godsdamnit, it’s my family rosebush.  I don’t have anything else to remember them by except for a grapevine currently being watched by another relative.

But, honestly and strangely enough for me- the thing that meant the most to me was the pride my family had in me for taking the rose bush back.  My dad was extremely happy about it- even though he was devastated by the condition of Pop Howard and Nana Cookie’s old house- and my grandparents told me the history of the two roses- it will be a surprise to see which one it is since in my region it is still too soon for roses to bloom.

If it is the pink one- it is over 50 years old and was purchased before even my father was born.  If it is the yellow- that indicates that I actually have Nana Cookie’s favorite rose.

Oddly enough- both colors of roses share the traditional meaning of “Appreciation”.

Yellow roses mean “Joy and Friendship”
Pink roses= “Sweetness, Gratitude, and Grace”

(I checked multiple sources….but feel free to add other interpretations in the comments)
Either are fine blessings for a new home.

Honestly, I do fully believe it was beyond coincidence I received the call indicating we “won” the house as soon as my shovel hit the dirt- and I feel really buoyed on how my family, my spouses family, and VERY clearly my ancestors in particular seem to be encouraging this process along.

As for my Braucher grandmother?   She loved doves- and there is a little Mourning Dove mother nesting peacefully in the eave of our new back porch on a platform the seller created just for her little nest.   The backyard has a stream running at the bottom stocked with trout and we have found pheasant feathers, seen ravens, Cardinals (Redbirds to Southern Folks), herons, and all sorts of other interesting critters on the property.

I wrote this post mostly for my own sake;  the inspection is the next part to come- but it seems to me like everything seems to be lining up well on all sides for things to go “smoother than most”- which, in buying a house is just a slightly nicer circle of Dante’s rings of Inferno…. but as long as I remember my ancestors are rooting for me, I think we’ll be all right.