Preparing for St. Paddy’s Day

While grocery shopping yesterday,  as  the world would be honoring St. Patrick in one day, I bought corned beef and red potatoes and cabbage. I told my family it would be Irish fare on the 17th, and so my husband picked-up a special horse radish cream he loves with corned beef while driving home from work. What would make the meal perfect? I had already bought the rye bread, but for me, St. Paddy’s Day is perfect with Irish soda bread. Last year I brought home a loaf from the local market’s bakery, but it was disappointing. I can make it. I figured I had flour, so I bought a new baking soda while shopping. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain I pulled-out “buttermilk” but dismissed it, so I paid for my items and left the store.

Once home, my son put away the groceries for me and I pulled out my Irish cook book and immediately realized that the little voice in my head was right. I did need buttermilk. I cooked all day yesterday afternoon, not only making my St. Paddy’s day feast with corned beef and red potatoes and carrots and cabbage, but I also made a chicken dish with medium-grain sticky rice and more carrots and stock and fresh sage leaves from my garden. I pan-grilled fresh green beans, and made a double batch of my chocolate brownies to be given as gifts to friends this week.

This morning, after a quick cup of coffee, and after feeding and playing with our freshly-shaven, gussied up dog, I took off for the market. I came home with the buttermilk. I was measuring out the fourth cup of flour, and I was so happy that I had just enough, when I saw a speck of what looked like a tiny piece of packaging in the flour. Hmmmm.

On closer inspection with my magnifying glass, I decided I had better buy some fresh flour. So I tossed the just-measured four cups of flour, baking soda, salt and sugar from my orange mixing bowl into the waste basket. I also discarded the remaining flour package (which I had stored in a zip-lock plastic bag in my pantry). Grabbing my keys and purse, I let my husband know I was off to the store again.

“Why don’t you pick up a loaf of soda bread at Whole Foods?” “Oh,” I answered. “I don’t want to drive to Campbell.” He looks at me and laughs. “Whole Foods is down the street.”

O-H-H-H-H! Right! It opened recently and I toured the market before it opened. They gave each of us a great bag of goodies, too. It’s close enough to walk. He’s chuckling. I’m chuckling.

Not to be deterred, one more run to the store, and now I have new flour – not wrapped in paper, but already sealed in a zip-locked bag, and a fresh sugar.

Four more measured cups of new flour into my washed and dried orange bowl, a teaspoon of baking soda, the sugar, salt, and the baking powder. Baking powder? In a soda bread? Gee, that’s weird. But it’s not a lot, so oh, well.

Wait. Now they want me to add whole wheat flour? They also want me to use rolled oats? I’m perplexed.

My son walks in and I tell him how weird this recipe is.

“Are you sure you’re looking at the right recipe?”

Well, on the left page is a recipe for Irish brown bread. On the right side, bottom, is my recipe for “Nora’s Best Soda Bread.” Oh well. It’s an honest enough mistake. I’ll just forget that I added baking powder and keep making the bread. At least I don’t have to run to the store for whole wheat flour.

My son looks at me. “Did you get enough sleep last night, Mom?” “Yes! I feel great!” My husband steps into the kitchen and realizes I’ve goofed. He says to our son, “She forgot that Whole Foods is down the street!” We’re all laughing now.

The loaf came out pretty well, but you can taste it’s not a pure soda bread. What the heck; I have more buttermilk and flour and everything.

In addition to cooking and running to the store today, I’ve been submitting Hal Roach Irish jokes to my Facebook page. There’s this one Hal Roach joke that really makes me laugh. I’ve been hearing it in my head all day, while walking around the house, and driving, and tossing ingredients into the trash, and walking through the aisles of my grocery store, and waving to the staff who have seen a lot of me these past two days. I’ve been laughing and chuckling all day.

The widow had her husband laid out for the wake, and he had the biggest smile on his face that was ever seen in Ireland. I said to her, “I never saw a corpse with a smile like that. What happened to him?” “Ah, dear God,” she said. “Twas terrible. He was struck eight times by lightning, and he thought he was having his photograph taken.”

“He was struck eight times by lightning, and he thought he was having his photograph taken”? HA! I’m positively guffawing.

So now as I’m waiting for my next loaf of Irish soda bread to come out of the oven, I’m thinking of the punch line, and I can see and hear my husband and son laughing, sure, at my expense, but it was pretty funny, and I’m remembering how the staff at the grocery store looked surprised when they saw me yet again this morning, and I can’t believe I’ve just spent hours making a loaf of bread that I could have picked up down the street and that my whole morning and a chunk of my afternoon has been a fiasco, and I realize that I really do have the luck of the Irish today. I haven’t laughed this hard in a long time.

And besides, I can “gift” the first loaf along with the brownies. Who’s gonna know?

Happy St. Patrick’s Day

Kathleen O’Galagan (Just for today!)

March 17, 2015


We Fight Back! Take That, Winter! Welcome Back, Guest Blogger Richard Galgano

Rich's snowy deck and grill 2-16-2015CAM00220 Rich's Snowy Front Yard 2-16-2015 CAM00218

(Pic of mostly-shoveled deck and my accessible grill. Cheeseburgers in Paradise!)

(Pic of front yard from my living room window.)

If shoveling were sport, we would be competing in the “Snowbowl.” But as boxing is a better metaphor, how about, “The Battle of Beantown,” “The Rumble in Bahston,” or “The Thrilla in Dunkin Villa”?

For weeks now, You’ve been pummeling us with snow, wind, cold and ice. We’ve staggered a few times with wobbly knees, sore arms and aching backs. A couple of times we’ve barely escaped getting knocked out, saved only by the bell ending another round of snow.

Like Ali against Foreman, we’ve leaned against the snowbanks and absorbed your hits. (Actually this is a good way to make the sidewalk path a little wider.)

Beginning today, we fight back! The sequel: Revenge of the Snow People!

First, we need to set the proper mood.  Dig out your swimsuits and sunscreen. Wear white. (Yes, I know it’s not Memorial Day yet, but desperate times call for desperate measures.) Don’t forget the straw hats, visors and baseball caps. Ladies, put on your white cotton gloves and pastel colors. Well, okay, forget the gloves and pastels, but find those sandals.

Shovel off your deck and start grilling. Eat key lime pie while blasting Jimmy Buffett from your speakers. Don’t forget the pink flamingos. No more sanding the sidewalk – just put the snow in a big pile, make a small beach and build a sand castle. Drink lemonade. Make mojitos. And put those little drink umbrellas in everything!

Now, for the Plan of Attack:

Paint the top of the snow black. White reflects light and heat, but dark colors absorb it.

Cover your entire house with aluminum foil and mirrors. (Remember to put the shiny side of the foil facing away from the house.)

Find every light and extension cord you have and put them outside, around your house, and turn them on. Use bulbs with higher watts, preferably a couple thousand. (Be careful not to electrocute yourself.)

The snow will melt faster than the Wicked Witch of the West.

Nyuk Nyuk Nyuk!

Richard Galgano

February 16, 2015


Guess what? It’s 4:00 a.m., it’s snowing again, and I’m outside. Thank God! I have a multiple-week streak of daily shoveling going and was afraid it would end. This may be my best chance to get into the Guinness Book of World Records. There are officially two categories in the book: pro and amateur. Technically I’m an amateur, but I don’t think the term is appropriate in this case. “Amateur” derives from Latin and means “one who does it for the love.” I think we need to develop a third category referring to necessity.

I’m sacrificing my parking spot in the driveway. I’m considering a mess of helium balloons to tether the car above the snow but I’ll probably just play “musical cars.” There just isn’t any more space.

Boston received five and a half five inches of snow through January 22nd. Since then, in 23 days, 84 more inches have fallen. A normal winter has about half that much snow.

Yesterday, for the fifth time, I removed the peaks of the snow piles at the foot of the driveway to about 4 and a half feet. All I can say is… They’re B-a-c-k!  The snow piles are over 7 feet right now, and growing. The taller mountains in the yard are so high that you need to wear supplemental oxygen when climbing them. This Spring, my yard is going to look like the summit of Mt. Everest with empty canisters all over the place.

After removing the peaks with my wheelbarrow, I washed clothes by hand. Yes. I am building the helicopter, using parts from the washer and dryer. (See prior blog posts.) As it took an hour to drive 3/4 of a mile, the chopper will free up a lot of time, for shoveling.

The local hardware store was packed yesterday. Unlike the big box stores which already showcase spring equipment, winter items are still available locally. Well, they were. There was a run on “ice melt,” the shovels are sold-out, and the bin with the grips for your boots had 1 pair left (men – size 15). Fortunately they had a chain saw (more on this below).

I considered buying salt but I don’t want to screw up the environment any more than necessary. Wandering through the aisles, it hit me. I ran over to the electrical department and bought every foot of wire they had. I stopped at the auto parts store and picked up a couple car batteries.

Last night I stripped about five miles of insulation off the wire. My dog is outside running around in a back and forth pattern, having the time of her life, pulling wire from a spool. She’s pretty fast and as soon as she’s done and back in the house, I’m going to hook up the wire to the batteries. (Safety Note: if you walk by our house today, please wear rubber boots.) Let the melting begin!

Years ago, I learned how to cut trees and got reasonably facile in having the trees (usually) fall in the intended direction. As the battery power is limited, I’ve decided to cut down the trees in our front yard and set them on fire. Hopefully they will fall in the direction of the sidewalk and driveway. Ha! With all that melting, I’ll be able to see one of my neighbor’s houses in no time! After the trees burn out, I can toss some furniture on the embers. I got the idea from La Bohème. But don’t worry — there are piles of rubber insulation in the house and they are comfortable to sit and lie on. I soon may be able to see out my windows!

Back after a couple hours. Huge miscalculation. HUGE. I cut the first tree but the snow is so deep, it’s holding the tree upright. And the electrical approach didn’t quite work as intended. From the window, my dog and I witnessed one major league spark (okay, explosion). The dog had run around the fire hydrant a few times and I think the metal hydrant caused a short circuit. However, the area around the hydrant is totally clear and the five-foot hole in the ground should fill up with snow quickly.

My dog is sitting at the kitchen table, pawing the keys on my laptop and has my credit card. It appears that she is trying to book a vacation package in Cancun. She is willing to take me with her but I’ll have to ride in the cargo area with the other humans.

Time for breakfast while listening to music — Christie McVie was right: “I’m over my head, over my head in snow.”

Richard Galgano

February 15, 2015


My ads on Craigslist have not provided a solution to the snow problem. All the dog teams are in training for the Iditarod race in Alaska. I received a link about building your own helicopter, but it would require dismantling the washing machine and dryer. Having cabin fever is one thing. Adding piles of dirty clothes is another.

The fire department will not issue a permit for the flame thrower. Apparently they would rather have alpine skiing held on the snow mountain in front of my house than speed skating on a rink created by melting the enormous amount of ice on my property. Darn, there goes my chance to meet the Erics (Heiden and Flaim).

Just received these notes:

To: Richard Galgano
From: Nuclear Regulatory Commission
Re: Newly appeared glacier on your property
Dear Mr. Galgano:
Many thanks checking in with us. While we appreciate your condition, the use of a thermonuclear device is not yet approved for removal of personal glaciers even when roof collapse is imminent.


P.S. Off the record, it sounds like an interesting idea. However, it will probably turn your house white, assuming the structure survives.

To: Nuclear Regulatory Commission
From: RG
Re: Glacier
Dear NRC. Thank you for your timely response. I’m disappointed but will not pursue efforts to obtain uranium. I don’t know what I would do with it anyway.


P.S.  My house has been white for a number of weeks now. I think it used to be blue. 

To: RG

From: NRC

Re: Glacier

Dear Mr. Galgano:
Have you considered using a flamethrower on your glacier? I suspect you may be able to obtain an old one from an Army-Navy store.



Richard Galgano

February 11, 2015


5 a.m.

It has stopped snowing!

The entrance to my driveway is filled again. I’ve resorted to using the wheelbarrow to move the snow to the other end of the driveway, where the front of my car would usually go. Fortunately, I cleaned out the garage a few weeks ago and may be able to fit a car in it. Hopefully the roof won’t collapse from the weight of a glacier.

Ad for Craigslist — Needed: One dog team, sled, and driver who has a permit to carry fuel. I found an Army Navy store with a Korean War flame thrower. The ban on driving doesn’t say anything about dog sledding.

Uh-oh. Miscalculated (underestimated) the amount of ice created by using flame thrower on a cold day.

Eureka! Acme Supply Company (of Road Runner and Coyote fame) offers a special on ice crampons and studded snow tires. Unfortunately, they can’t deliver due to ban on cars and trucks.

Next ad for Craigslist – Wanted: Helicopter with payload capacity to drop above package into our yard.

On the phone with Acme again. They are balking about inserting an electronic tracking device with the package. I’m trying to explain that the package may be lost for a long time in snow drifts.

Where there is crisis, there is opportunity. In addition to a new mountain for the winter Olympics, I’ll have more than enough ice for a speed skating track! Wonder if I’ll get to meet the Erics (Heiden and Flaim)? By the way, the largest snow mountain in my driveway is now tall enough for the downhill race.

Check this out! There is a St Bernard across the street thumbing (well, “pawing,” actually) rides. The sign reads “Florida or bust. Will share brandy.”

One of the meteorologists of Armageddon Storm Team is broadcasting. (I must have missed the others who went to the Florida Keys). We are going to get, you guessed it, MORE SNOW in a couple days.

It’s a good thing I have a two story house. I can still see out of the second floor windows.

Richard Galgano

February 10, 2015

Welcome Back Snow-Weary Guest Blogger, Richard Galgano

Armageddon Storm Team reporting live from just west of Boston.

It continues to snow and the piles in my driveway are taller than Kareem Abdul Jabbar. They are too high for Dwight Stones (high jumper) and too wide for Carl Lewis (long jumper). If they continue to get larger, Boston will change the bid and go for the winter Olympics instead. I’ll have a front yard view to the super giant slalom.

We have no place to put the newly plowed snow in the driveway so we cleared the lighter, 3+ feet of snow in our front yard to make a large, open area. We found our wheel barrel and have been “trucking” the heavy, salted snow from the driveway to the yard. Fortunately that section of the yard is half weeds, so the salt shouldn’t matter.

My hands are frozen despite wearing ski gloves. Time to use the Kelvin thermometer.

I have to dig out the crampons and ice ax. The icicles hanging from the gutters are now large enough to climb.

Watching a really proficient truck driver plow is a thing of beauty.

What’s this? Just turned on the TV and regular programs are airing! The meteorologists are on “assignment” in Key West.

The snow is so deep that our dog is teaching herself how to use the loo.

Wish I had taken up fly-fishing. Hip waders would come in handy right about now.

Call the police! The 5 feet tall wooden post fence in our back yard is missing! Never mind, it’s just buried under a drift.

Santa just called. He wonders if it’s okay to move his operation here.

Breaking news from the American Geological Institute. The earth has “rotated” and the 42.3 north longitude is now where the north pole used to be. Can’t wait to see the aurora borealis — that is, if we ever have clear skies again.

Maple syrup should be very tasty this year.

I’m going to find a bear den and try to hibernate for a while.

Richard Galgano

February 9, 2015


“If one more plow fills in my driveway while I’m standing in it…”

Armageddon Storm Team 6 update: “It’s still snowing.” Thank God. I couldn’t tell with all that white stuff pelting my windows. So far, 24-plus inches have fallen. I’m grabbing a bite to eat and trying to warm up – for the past hour I’ve been attacking the glacier at the end of my drive. The glacier appears to be winning.

One of the city barns is on my street. All the trucks in our end of town have to drive by to get back to the barn to reload with sand, and so our street is always well-plowed. The disadvantage is that there is a whopping 10 feet of hard packed snow in our driveway.

Special Alert: As all the meteorologists are working, the broadcast cuts back and forth between them. One meteorologist standing outside near a highway, just announced, “When it’s snowing hard and it is very windy, you can’t see far.” She also said, “When there is a ban on driving in the Commonwealth, the highways tend not to have many cars on them.” God, what an education I’m getting.

Cut to the beach. It’s snowing.

Breaking news: “If it snows a lot, it can get deep.”

Ahhh! Something different! The station is now advertising their continuous coverage of the storm as well as cell phone apps.

Oh, Thank God… a real commercial!

Here’s something: One of the Armageddon Storm Team 6 vans is reporting and broadcasting as they drive down a local street. Sure hope the camera operator isn’t the driver. Oh well. It must be considered an essential vehicle. I wonder if they could pick me up a Dunkin’ Donuts coffee.

More news: “If you see the snow blowing sideways really fast, it’s probably windy.”

Change of pace: The regular news anchors are talking about… (wait for it), the weather!

We are at number 8 of the biggest snowfall totals of all time. Worcester is at number 3 all time. The airports are the official measuring points. I’m guessing they didn’t record the Ice Ages because there were no airports then.

Back to the beach. Do I see someone surfing? It must be the total white-out conditions wreaking havoc on my brain.

I changed channels; a rerun of a 70s police drama is on. Those ties are back in style.

None of my four pairs of gloves are dried yet; I can’t go back out. Why aren’t Dunkin’ Donuts delivery vehicles considered “essential”?

I need a change of pace. Time to flick on the radio and get the latest on Deflate Gate.

Richard Galgano

January 27, 2015


Today Armageddon Team 6 will be covering the end of the earth as we know it, live and remote, via digital TV, streaming video, radio, text alerts, loud-speaker, Morse code, semaphore, smoke and hand signals — 72 hours a day. Our digitally enhanced coverage of hell freezing over will turn you into a mass of shriveled, huddled, hyper-paranoid, bread and milk-hoarding, cabin-fever hallucinating, carbon fuel seeking, valium needing, sleep deprived, whining horde of viewers who will stay fixated on us and drive our ratings into the stratosphere. All other news and sports information will be suspended pending the next global warming.

To yesteryear: In business, the Dow rose 10 points to finish at 750. Soybeans are up, corn is down. And now for the weather. We’ll be getting a ton of snow. In sports, the Bolts won a close one in overtime……

Richard Galgano

January 26, 2014

Online Dating a/k/a “So, You Wanna Date?”

A few friends of mine and I were chatting over dinner the other night. Several told the group their experiences in the online dating scene. After many stories, laughs, a couple of bottles of wine and a round of hugs, I walked to my car silently cheering that I am happily married. Thank God I don’t have to handle the online dating angst; I don’t think I could do it!

For starters, my friends exclaimed that people in the dating pool absolutely do respond to their profiles and bios. Nine times out of ten, they told me, interested persons write scintillating missives such as: “Are you interested in me?” and “Do you want to date?”

Wait a minute. “Do you want to date?” This is the response you get to the bio that you took great pains to write after engaging in months of deep soul-searching? What, are we in first grade? The best conversation starter a person looking for love can wrap his or her little typing fingers around is, “Let’s go out.”? This is the way to woo a potential special someone? Now, perhaps I’m wrong, but I thought the point of posting a little bio is to provide discerning souls an opportunity to see if there is a commonality of interests. Does the profile author show a sense of humor? Is exercise, or music, or movies or travel important to this person? Do they like books? It doesn’t seem to be that difficult. How can individuals looking to share their life with someone be so bereft of the gift of gab that they can’t respond to any of these points? It’s not like they’re showing up at somebody’s doorstep with flowers for crying out loud.

Or perhaps these responders’ MO is a blanket reply; it’s easy to “Control ‘V’” a “Do you want to date?” one-liner and see where that lands you. I suppose there are calculated odds as to how many of these missives a person looking for a date needs to send out to garner a response. Think of all the time saved when you don’t have to read the bios! Just click on one, reply with your zinger, and move on to the next. It’s not a strategy that embraces discernment, but maybe it will work for a night at the movies, someday. Plus there’s no rejection. Maybe one of my friends should add, “I like to calculate the odds!” on a bio. It might lead to an interesting conversation. Well, whether or not one of my friends might want to start a conversation with anyone who chooses to honor her with a first grade sentence is another thing.

But it wasn’t just the replies to the biographies that got us going. The biggest roars came when people started to open up and state their own personal desires that would make for perfect relationships — but didn’t have the guts to state. Over more laughter, a list of non-negotiables began to appear.

I’m looking forward to sharing a glass of wine with my Sweetie who loves being handy in the kitchen! In fact, I hope my Sweetie is so handy in the kitchen that I’ll never have to step in that room again.

I’m looking forward to wrapping my arms around my special someone who embraces invigorating winter mornings and enthusiastically plunges into the morning chill to collect the paper from a snowy lawn and lovingly scrape ice off both our cars.

I’m looking forward to spending quality time with my true love, a good-natured and caring soul who is not afraid to apply a prescription medicinal cream to my dog’s backside.

I’m looking forward to living my life with my soul mate, that loving someone who is adept at unclogging relationships and toilets.

Kathy Galgano

January 24, 2015

It Means Mars To Me!

The moon and stars have long held a special place in songwriters’ hearts. “Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars. Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars.”* How about: “When you wish upon a star — makes no difference who you are.”* And here’s a new one for you: “I’ve got Mars on a string.”*

It won’t be long now before we’re immersed in a slew of new idioms. Think about it. A wave of new speech will be the by-product of something else grand; idioms will come from new song lyrics, from new rap and poetry, from new works of fiction and nonfiction. Humans will go to Mars, and inherent in this experience will be the spirit to create – to create a new life in a new place, and to create ways to describe, portray or embody that reality. One can imagine that in the moment just before sleep consumes an exhausted crew member, images or words will emerge. Jokes and puns will be made during the day. Diaries will be dictated. Photographs will be taken. Comparisons will be made. And the world, oops – the worlds will amass a new sense of what is right and good.

Advertisers will tout adventures in a land that is neither verdant nor ultramarine, and yet this land will be beautiful. Beauty shifts as one gets used to one’s surroundings. A resident of an area that receives rain on summer days may have difficulty grasping that a rocky barren landscape can be a romantic site, at first, anyway. New renderings will expand our notion of what is beautiful. Add to this an economic perspective, and enterprising minds will cultivate not only ingenious business opportunities, but also add glamour to what is considered, for good reason, a formidable place.

Generations before us have sung and danced to tunes referencing the moon in a dreamy way. I remember my elders singing “Shine on, shine on harvest moon up in the sky.”* The old-time favorite “By the Light of the Silvery Moon”* scores the trifecta with the “moon,” “June,” and “tune” rhymes. Of course, lyrics can be more sophisticated; an updated effort for rhyme gives us the likes of: Mars, Stars, Ours, Quasars, Lodestars, Memoirs, Superstars and Repertoires. But the scope of engineering a habitable base on another planet is almost beyond comprehension, and it’s hard to imagine that simple rhymes can convey the depth of such a colossal undertaking. Our language had to suffice for previous lift-offs, EVAs and lunar landings, but for going to Mars? I wonder. Perhaps we’ll see new languages emerge. At the very least there will be huge additions to our lexicon. Human Martians (“Hutians”?) will necessarily live in an environment of conservation. People will have to conserve all of their resources, their oxygen, their fuel, food, even their own personal energy, and live in a way that maximizes everything. Is there a language more economical than Base Two? Time will tell.

Yet I doubt that Hutians will be chucking the standards of our archaic language any time soon. While a precise numerical system or language may best enable Mission Control specialists to understand accurately, react to, and provide for pioneers as these explorers routinely communicate their progress in building a base, their challenges to survive and ultimately thrive, and their physical and mental stresses, there’s still something to be said for feeding the soul. This will require different approaches, and our forward-thinking explorers will have to rely on their wits, their reactions, their own creativity and their knowledge of things past to create something new.

The times – they are a’ changin’,* and I’m over Phobos and Deimos just thinking about it!

*Here’s some info on the songs I reference:

“Fly Me to the Moon” (originally called, “In Other Words) was written by Bart Howard in 1954. Lots of people have recorded it, but it’s the Frank Sinatra version that many recognize.

When You Wish Upon a Star” was sung by a cricket — Jiminy Cricket, to be exact. You can hear Jiminy (Cliff Edwards) singing the song in the beginning and in the final scene of Walt Disney’s “Pinocchio,” released in 1940.

“I’ve Got the World On a String” was very popular. Harold Arlen composed the song in 1932; Ted Koehler wrote the lyrics. Lots of famous singers have recorded the piece; the “Chairman of the Board” Frank Sinatra recorded it in 1953.

The Ziegfeld Follies performed “Shine on Harvest Moon” in 1908. Nora Bayes and Jack Norworth are credited for writing the piece, but there is a bit of controversy over the credits. 

“By the Light of the Silvery Moon” was published in 1909. Gus Edwards wrote the tune, and Edward Madden composed the lyrics. Lucy and Ethel performed it in an “I Love Lucy” episode.

“The Times They Are A’Changin’” is Bob Dylan’s song and album by the same name. The album was released by Columbia Records on January 13, 1964.

Kathy Galgano

January 6, 2015

Copyright 1/8/2015. All rights reserved.