Claws!

The drone began its descent. The humans were at the other end of the marquee standing around consulting each other as they did daily. It plummeted down then just before impact the engines gave a high burst of speed to stabilise the unit. As the ground was uneven; the drone used its counterbalance to send itself into the marquee. Once it had landed, a small aerial shot out and bathed the metal in a blue glow. The metal instantly crept to life. It slowly crept towards the wood; then when all the units were in position they made their attack. The wood, having been damp for many days, splintered easily and the claws began to chew up the floor. As the wood began to tear, the noise suddenly attracted the attention of one of the humans.

‘Rogue metal!’

‘What? Where?’

One by one, they began to walk away. They had no hope of stopping them.

Siren's Craft Brew Vermont Tea Party at the Inn on the Green. Acocks Green

I’d heard some good things about the Inn on the Green at Acocks Green. The landlord had been to see us a few times on some social trips; and he’d buy us all a round without question. When Birmingham CAMRA made it their Pub of the Year, I thought that it’s got to be worth a look. So when I heard that he was running a beer festival, it was the perfect excuse. Getting to Acocks Green is no easy feat. You can catch a bus from Selly Oak or if like me you don’t know how often they run or where they go; you can catch a train into the heart of Birmingham and catch a second train out again from Moor Street. The pub itself is built on the former village green with a roundabout in front of it and lots of zebra crossings to make it extra confusing. After negotiating a route, I ventured inside. There’s a long bar which runs parallel to the entrance and the seating is open plan which is split around two corners. There’s also a second room which hosts the beer festival. It’s suffered the test of time so the décor isn’t perfect; but the beers are in excellent condition and Brendon goes well out of his way to source new and unusual beers. The locals are very friendly too. I’ve been back several times.  

The Teacher in the Making

Deep in rural Yorkshire, I’m shown the secret of my friend’s success; an old, worn bible for those who want to teach. It’s like the Holy Grail of old, and it’s even yellowed like the colour of parchment over time. It’s clearly a hand down of knowledge from someone with experience; teaching you about confidence in the classroom and psychology to get the kids to behave; even though the introduction denies this. Otherwise what modern day use for it is there other than to be referred to as a historical work?  But is it enough to hold weight in today’s modern world? And more importantly, will the modern curriculum allow people to use these techniques? The author’s time in teaching was clearly before the internet era when teachers were strict and were to be feared rather than to assist in life decisions. Kids are growing up faster and are constantly being distracted. And my friend’s recently been let go from his post as voluntary teaching assistant. Has he been too soft?

Lockdown #scavenger6

With the team captured, there wasn’t much that Kit could do. Lee was being held at a prison in Virginia, while Kat was clamped down in Virginia and Kit was under armed guard in Nevada. A rescue mission seemed necessary but it broke all of Kat’s protocols to do so. The only thing that she could do was to wait until something happened. For weeks, she scanned for news reports so that her actions could be justified; but none came. As the end of the year approached, Kat decided to do what everyone was doing; review the year.

She‘d been looking at some news reports of a newly elected Senator. Since she’d discovered that all cyborg conversions could covertly blend into crowds of people with a simple headset; she’d been scanning footage of all broadcasts to spot the headset’s design. It had to be unique to the cyborg unit and a perfect match, and it also had to be well hidden. She’d been checking out the senator’s profile. All his pictures were taken parallel to the camera; and even his identity ones had his head turned just enough to hide his ears. But this particular broadcast was filming him on a street corner in front of a new store that he’d been asked to open. In the background, a school bus had turned into the adjacent street, and as it passed Kat freezed the image and magnified the reflection on the bus’s mirrors. Gotcha.

Where to boss?

The inner workings of the Leeds-Bradford Airport is a mystery. I’m told by my friend that it’s mostly used for private flights; though he did manage to fly to Amsterdam a few years ago. From this I had visions of people taking flying lessons and VIPs using the site for their private jets to get up and down the country. I’ve driven past it a few times and even had to make a U-turn in the car park as I’ve made a wrong turn. It’s got traditional barbed wire fencing, and from a distance the terminal doesn’t look particularly big; and neither do the planes. There’s a great viewing area behind the main road, and many people like to park up in their cars and watch the planes come in. Some even have timetables and only get out of their cars when they see a plane of interest. But the planes that use it must be of commercial size as a quick internet search shows that there are many world-wide destinations available. Perhaps my friend needs to plug in and explore his local area more.

McHughs, Belfast

McHughs is one of the oldest establishments in Belfast. It’s lately been renovated from a former brothel and has been expanded into the adjacent building. There’s lots of snugs here and hideaway spaces which reflects the pub’s history, but the bar area is very open. It kind of felt like Cheers! only no-one knew our names. We had a pint of Whitewater; another beer that you could get anywhere else in Belfast. We sat on the comfy plush leather sofas near the entrance to the basement bar. It was a modernised area with TVs screening football results. Unfortunately, nothing was on that night. It’s one of the drawbacks of visiting a city in the mid-week. Everywhere is just so quiet and there’s no nightlife whatsoever. It’s hard to imagine that anyone cares about the history of the place. Even the bar staff looked bored. It just needed something else to attract people all week long. 

A Wet Wednesday

On the following morning, it continued to hail down. I wasn’t in the best of moods to trek into Otley for a true Yorkshire experience as it was hammering it down and we also had to take paddy out for a walk. This was a two hour walk around the fields, and we eventually entered a cemetery and tried to spot the angels in the graveyard. We didn’t walk over to the neighbouring tarn, but we did get a great view of the aeroplanes taking off at the adjacent airport. There was also a horse in the fields which occasionally escapes onto the road in search of food. I really didn’t want to cross the Chevin as it was still tipping it down, but I wasn’t getting much of a choice, and I couldn’t think of any local alternatives to do. I should have suggested Kirkstall Abbey; there’s a conspiracy to keep me away from the place. And so it was that we prepared ourselves for another long walk in the rain over to Otley.

Bar Brawl #dreamdiary16

I'm at one of my favourite local bars. They've had a refurbishment and the bar is now parallel to the door; there's also higher tables which serve as benches. They have three new beers on; a martini beer at 6% which is somehow a porter; a 2% golden beer; and a peach beer at 4.3%. They've also started to accept vouchers to compete with other outlets. I order a peach beer and give them an expired voucher which they accept. While they pour my drink I go and say hello to my friends. When I turn back to the bar there are two glasses of orange stuff on the bar and a barmaid is pouring a third one out of a decanter. I take a sip and find that it's just juice; the barmaid points to a glass behind the bar and explains that that one is mine. She gives me my change and I work out that she's charged me £3.49. She has some trouble topping it up so I end up with a giant novelty sized glass and a half pint glass to top it up.  When she's finished, she hands me the glass which she's placed in a rectangular cooler that comes on a tray; the cooler produces a lot of steam and sparks as I place it on the table. The guy at the neighbouring table has his back to us but is leaning against ours and gets a head full of steam as I place it down. Naturally he's interested as to what it is and explain that it's peach beer and he's welcome to try some. He then downs the whole glass. I'm not happy that he's finished my whole drink and make a lunge for him. 

Ilkley Moor

No visit would have been complete without a trip to the promised moor. The summit is not much taller than Beamsley Beacon; though the car really did struggle to climb the hill. It’s a miracle as to how the town avoids flooding. It was desolate and completely silent owing to the recent downpour that we had just trudged through. A bunch of rocks masked a huge wall surrounding the path; and it could have easily been a film set for the Ringwraiths of Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings. It’s the stuff of legends, as the tale goes that a giant split the rocks and separated the cow from the calf as he fled from his angry wife. There were paths climbing up either side to the top; which was the start of the moor itself; which is full of becks and streams, and on a sunny day it’s a great place to go for a marvellous view of the town. It’s a shame that we didn’t our walk here; but you can’t pick the weather when you choose to set out into the great outdoors. 

Skinner's Lushington at the Crown Hotel, Liverpool

This was one of the oldest pubs in Liverpool, and it’s very close to the central station. We chose to eat here as it had a good value menu and we’d been eating most of our other pub meals at Wetherspoons. Its original owners proudly proclaimed that Walkers Ales had infiltrated the city. It’s now owned by M&B who seem to run it just for appearances sake; but they have done a good job of keeping the pub in a good condition. The bar only had three beers but they were kept well and I opted for a pint of Skinners Lushington to accompany my pie, which was well filled and came with lots of sauce for my chips. The downstairs area was well furnished with ornate plasterwork in the ceiling, while wood panelling hid away the outside world. The pub was very quiet considering that the city was holding a national beer conference. It was a shame that we were on a schedule to visit more pubs; and we missed the opportunity to see the marble fireplace and the rear and upstairs rooms.

Beamsley Beacon

Our walk headed south back towards Ilkley, but not before climbing a mound up to Beamsley Beacon. This hill is the highest point in the Lower Wharfdale area, at 1299 feet. You can certainly get a good view of the rolling hills and surrounding villages; and it proves once and for all that Yorkshire is indeed God’s country. This would have been a great stop for a picnic; but it was also less sheltered and meant that the rest of the walk would have had an anti-climax. After pausing for photographs our descent involved a lot of rocky steps, and my friend’s vertigo started to kick in which meant that we started to lag behind. Once we’d reached the bottom we began to walk back round the hill, but the heavens opened and we got hailed upon. Luckily, I’d packed some waterproof trousers which I was able to slide on top of my jeans. Once we’d returned to the field on lower ground we met up with a farmer who was herding some sheep, and our numbers helped him to move them in the right direction. But by the time we’d reached the road we elected to remain on solid ground rather than help him through the final field; and we soon reached the pub for some shelter.  

Who threw the dog out #dreamdiary15

There’s a dog in my back garden. It’s an Old English Sheep Dog, it’s just over the size of a puppy; and it’s very fluffy. But it’s also bleeding; it only has one leg. It’s quite strange as to how it ended up in our back garden as the fence is high with a footpath leading to some bungalows on the other side; but the people who live in these bungalows aren’t exactly elderly these days. But who do we call? The dog is in a lot of pain so not being dog owners we dial 999 in an attempt to get emergency assistance. I then figure that as it’s early in the morning it’s still before office hours, and by googling and calling the local vet up the road I get the out-of-hours emergency vet. I then realise that someone must pay for this dog’s care, and the expense may have been intentionally thrust upon us as the previous owners might not have been able to afford it. I also remember that all dongs must be chipped nowadays, so tracking the previous owners should be very easy before I need to consider a poster campaign.

Roosters California Common at the Cow & Calf, Ilkley

High up on the southbound road out of Ilkley is the Cow & Calf. This pub has stunning views of the Ilkley Moors which is a perfect respite for walkers returning from their expedition. The pub itself has a very strange shaped car park, perhaps because of the steepness of the hill; and there’s an overflow area with a marquee for outdoor events. There’s even upstairs living quarters which can be rented out. The pub itself isn’t the most attractive buildings; it looks like it’s been converted from an old farmhouse, but inside it’s very cosy and the seats just want to make you curl up. It’s named after the rocks nearby and the beer is kept very well. Unfortunately I was driving so I was only able to have a half of the Roosters; which was very crisp and full of flavour. The other beers do tempt me back for a second visit.  

Accessible Odeon

In a cinema far far away, in a time not so long ago, we managed to find time to watch the new Star Wars movie. It was at the Birmingham Odeon; a city that we've not had the best of experiences when it comes to watching movies. And today was no exception, the wheelchair lift was out of order. It was also quite pricey, a ticket costs over £10. We had to be shown round to the back of the building so that we could use their back-up ramp through the fire exit. On the plus side, the entrance was at the back of the building, which meant that we got to sit in the premium seats (perhaps this was why it was so expensive but it wasn't made clear) as these were the seats closest to the wheelchair space. But on the negative side, I could not get comfortable no matter how hard I tried. Whether it was because I'd done a fair bit of sitting down that day I wasn't sure. I just found it odd as id been doing a lot of walking and pushing as well. But it was convenient to come out of the cinema to find our guide waiting for us, and he'd even managed to get the car park barrier unlocked so we didn't have to negotiate the cobbly patch of hill on the side. 

Boundary Stones

As we explored the moors, we passed a lot of gravestones with the initials L.N on them. When I saw the first one I thought it might have been a graveyard for my friend Lee Naylor, then realised that there weren't any numbers on them. Maybe he'd reserved the plot; in any case he wasn't impressed when I showed the photograph to him. During our walk we passed half a dozen or so of these stones; and I didn't have a clue what they were for. They're not to mark the distance or the route as surely they'd have numbers marked on them or directional arrows carved on their sides. Perhaps it was to mark the way to London; in which case I wonder how long it took for someone who followed these signs to get there? But after some extensive googling, I've now discovered that they're actually boundary stones which separate the borders between the parishes of Langbar and Nesfield. Sorry Lee. 

Train Tripping #dreamdiary 14

I'm delivering a package in Birmingham. I've had to take a train to get here, which is odd as I drive a van which is parked fifteen miles away and the delivery is out of my jurisdiction. But for some reason (perhaps there's a major traffic jam), I'm delivering to Birmingham Road in Birmingham rather than Birmingham Road in anywhere else. I complete the delivery and now have to get the next train back. I know that I have to get to platform eleven but I can only see signs for platforms one through nine. The entrance to the platforms are all tunnels with stairs leading down them with a tiled red ceramic border surrounding each semi-circle. And there are people out to get me. Wherever I walk, there's always people lounging around who are trying to trip me up as I pass. Eventually, I work out that I have to go down to the platforms and re-ascend onto a different concourse to reach my platform, but there's still plenty of people hanging about on the concourse who are trying to stick their ankles in front of me as I pass. 

Menwith Hill

The moor itself was a large plain which offered very little shelter from the elements. Even the sheep had disappeared. But we were committed to climbing the hill.  For some reason, the group had named it the lollipop walk; perhaps because the route may have been in the shape of a lollipop; or maybe because the walk may have been a long one. But as we trenched through the moors negotiating a path avoiding puddles and sunken grass, we were given lollipops to keep us going. On our most northern point, we stopped for a view of Menwith Hill, a military base for the Royal Air Force and communications station for the United States. Martin told me that a friend of his worked there as a cleaner, and had to bring his passport every time he had to enter the American side. We headed east to complete the next part of our circle; then came across a bricked wall which we were able to lean against and take shelter for our picnic break. We also bought some of the group’s raffle tickets. 

Guess who's back #scavenger5

‘Mr Rutman, an urgent situation has occurred and I must ask you to accompany me under Section Seven of the Security Act. After your briefing you will be required to fulfil some of your former duties in a temporary capacity and certain restrictions would remain in place.’

‘Is that so? Under whose authority?’

‘Under the United Kingdom’s Government authority.’

‘And the United Kingdom’s Government would enforce these restrictions?’

‘That is correct.’

‘Then I must decline.’

‘Under Section Seven of the Security Act, you do not have the right to decline, as you are fully aware. We have evidence to prove that you understand this. We do not usually recall former employees back into the fold; but this situation is quite urgent.’

‘Is it?’

‘It is.’

‘Then would you please enlighten me as to why you require my assistance and what these restrictions would be?’

‘You know I can’t do that here.’

‘Then we are at a stalemate.’

‘Being uncooperative will only incur further penalties of your current civil liberties and I’

‘EVERYONE ON THE GROUND NOW!’ 

Langbar Moor

Our plan today was to tour the Ilkley Moors, and after getting stuck in some traffic behind some bin men, my brain recalled that we should have taken the second exit off a roundabout and I managed to get turned around, and we arrived in plenty of time. After parking at the back of a cinema, we headed over to the bus station to meet our fellow walkers. There was an upmarket independent coffee shop next door so I managed to get a caffeine boost before we started. People began to arrive and introduce themselves and we had to register our details for the walk. And then we began heading north, which was further away from the moors, until we crossed a river into a municipal park, past an outdoor pool and into the woods. It was then that my friend found out that we weren't touring the moors; we were actually heading for Langbar Moor. 

Titanic Plum Porter at the Dispensary, Liverpool

This is one of the smallest pubs in Liverpool, and it’s also one of the earliest that I remember visiting on a previous journey where the pub concentrated heavily on beers from Derbyshire and I drank Dr. Morton’s Snake Oil. On this visit, the rugby was being shown on a small screen mounted in a corner of a pub, but I managed to join a small group of friends who had managed to commandeer some seats. The reason why they were rooted to their seats was because they were major fans of a plum porter beer from a West Midlands Brewery. This beer is very sweet and moreish; but it’s a bit too sickly to drink more than one pint. I thought it was great to see a local beer entrenched this far north. This pub also has an excellent room for people-watching. The pub is decorated with wood panelling throughout with a Victorian-styled bar and ornate mirrors.

The Manual: What Women Want and How to Give it to Them by W. Anton

The Manual: What Women Want and How to Give It to Them by W. Anton
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

It’s one of those subjects that you don’t really talk about. Indeed, the friend who gave me this book actually sealed it up in an envelope stating ‘open when alone’ just in case I got embarrassed. But once you’ve read this guide, you realise that there’s no hidden secrets and the techniques used now haven’t differed from the methods back then. Anton’s guide simply points out the obvious. There’s no diagrams, no cheesy pick-up lines and few step-by-step instructions (imagine if you had to take the book with you and consult it regularly). Instead, he looks at the history of men and women and how their relationships have begun to change over time, while examining attitudes and stereotypes of the dating game. Of course, the key to any of this is confidence and not to waste any opportunity; all the while by holding your head up shamelessly and not being afraid to try.

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The Little One #scavenger4

‘There’s no chance in hell you’ll get through undetected. The base’s got more scanners than Goonhilly. Frankly, there’ll be the first site to make first contact with the equipment that they’ve got.’

‘But the site’s got basic security. There’s just a chain fence on the perimeter for crying out loud.’

‘Yes, but the instant they see an attack they’ll just pull the trigger.’

‘But I have the element of surprise here. I’ll be able to disarm their communications before they have the chance to launch.’

‘It’s a slim window of opportunity. POTUS has declared a negative.’

‘So we just sit here and wait for the world to end?’

‘We all have our orders.’

‘Screw the orders’.

Lee cocked his gun and headed outside. The tanker was still parked at the gas station. Quickly, he slid himself around to the passenger door and hoisted himself inside. He shuffled over to the driver’s side, and as soon as the door opened he punched the driver in the head.

An attempt at camping

I’ve been invited to a walking festival with my friend up in Leeds. I'm a bit rushed for time as I need to help set up the local beer festival; and by the time I've organised my kit for both walking and drinking; I'm actually leaving town during the early school rush. So, after getting stuck on the M1 and not being able to get in touch with a local camping site, I grudgingly accept an offer to stay at my friend’s house rather than struggle to put up a tent in the rain. I’m a bit disappointed as I’ve brought a whole camp kitchen with me. I had to struggle to close the boot. So after reaching his house and setting up camp in his sister’s old bedroom, I’m treated to a tour of his allotment before we decide to go and get some food. The kebab shop is quite quiet as everyone’s in the pub watching England lose in the Euros. I go for a regular mixed kebab in a naan; thinking that a Yorkshire large will be very large indeed; while my friend opts for an extra-large vegetarian pizza. hmmm 

The British Library

I’ve been receiving letter from the British Library asking for copies of our magazine, Pint Taken (you can check it out at www.pinttaken.org.uk but we’ve got a lot of work to do in terms of updating it). At first we were quite flattered that they would want a copy, and I was about to write back and say that’s no problem so long as they supply us with stamped addressed envelopes. Then after further reading I discovered that this is law and that it’s required to be archived as part of the legal deposits act. Other people have shown me letters from similar institutions also demanding copies of our publication for their archives. It means that we become part of our nation’s heritage, and that researchers can borrow our material free of charge. Luckily, we don’t charge for our magazine but it does seem a bit of a tax when it comes to posting copies to them. It seems that the British Library has never changed their ways…

Hanger Time

One of the things that annoyed me the most at this year’s Bromsgrove Beer Festival was the amount of short notice that we had to pack everything away. It’s been a busy weekend for us all; we know there’s still a very big job to do; and we decide that if we all meet at ten we can start packing away and have everything ready to be loaded onto our transport back to our storage area. But this year there was a bit of a problem. As I got back from a cooked breakfast at the local Wetherspoons, I saw that the marquee company had already arrived and had begun to strip down the outer of the marquee. This meant that we had to pack up our stuff while they were moving around and find room to store it so that we would be out of each other’s way. Apparently this had been agreed beforehand, but the person who’d liaised with the marquee company hadn’t liaised with anyone else. This was especially annoying as we’d had a bit of a party the evening before; and had we known that the marquee company were coming early; we could have given us a better head start.

Left in the Snow #dreamdiary13

It’s snowing and it’s cold, and it’s a very bright morning. I’m standing on the pavement on the hill where I grew up. The road is clear but the pavement is covered in snow and bits of dirt where the road’s been cleared. Halfway up the hill stands my friend waiting for a lift to work in his scarf, hat and duffel coat. I ask him why he’s standing in that particular spot as it’s not outside his or my house or even at the bottom, and explain that it would be easier for him to wait at the bottom in case his ride is having trouble climbing the hill. Later, I walk into my neighbour’s house to try and find some answers as to where everyone is and I walk right into their empty kitchen before hearing a rattle in the garage. I head towards the garage but there’s only rats roaming about. 

E.U Beauty at the Rocklands Social Club, Redditch

Supporting Europe is stating that we’re prepared to let things stay the same. Their objectives state that we’re stronger together; and the free movement of people between neighbouring countries allows easier access to trade and the free market without being penalised for importing and exporting goods. It also allows member countries to take up jobs in other countries and gain benefits; even if the two separate countries are used to a different way of life. But it’s hard to see the benefits of being a member when you can clearly see that you’re better off on your own than having to work alongside other countries that are still under development. Voting to leave means that we won’t have to pay for projects to subsidise other countries. Our own government has more freedom to decide on our workers’ rights; and France has just introduced legislation that won’t affect UK workers so what’s the point?

Otter Bright at the Globe, Liverpool

This was another cosy local’s pub in the heart of the city, right next to a major shopping centre. It’s a blend of old-meets-new from the outside, with just a small bricked frontage nestled in between two shops. Its flowers and lanterns on its frontage makes it welcoming yet out of place at the same time. Inside is a wall of local history as newspaper cuttings and commemorations of local characters adorn the walls; and plenty of people are doing their best to get their own story recorded.  It’s owned by Punch Taverns which may explain why the pub has survived for as long as it has, but it also has an historically important interior. As well as hosting the first Merseyside branch meeting of the Campaign for Real Ale in 1974; the building itself dates back to the late Victorian era and is noted for its sloping floor which drops four feet from the front of the building to the back. The Cask Marque certificate was easy to locate but our time was once again cut short as we still had one more pub to visit before our catching our return train home. 

101 uses for a Marquee

Deep in darkest Worcestershire, a marquee is erected on a field of its most prestigious sports clubs. It’s tall, it’s long, and its design looks like an aeroplane hanger. Plastic chairs are stacked in a corner, and in the centre people are busy at work constructing a huge rack for something else to rest upon. But what should it be used for? Is it to host a meeting of super villains who store their weapons deep beneath the earth? The tent acts to hide their activities and allows them to trade their secrets with other super villains and discuss tactics and sync diaries. There's seminars on how best to destroy your foe; the most secret manufacturers are showcasing their latest weapons; all while food and drink is being served in a humane environment. The caterers are sworn to secrecy. Or perhaps they’re disposed of afterwards. Or maybe people could be camping there? That is the original purpose of a tent.  It could also be used for weddings, shows, banquets or even a beer festival.

Goodbye Mr. Norton

I’m finally getting rid of Norton. Why pay for a virus checker when there’s a benefit that offers the same service for free, and that this new service is recommended by a major on-line security service which is industry-regulated (until the Americans recommended that they were subject to fraud this morning). And even that story is misleading; if you dig deeper than the banner on the BBC news you’ll discover that it’s more to do with international investors rather than British mortgages. But I don’t trust the Americans or the banner on the news. They’re the first in line to exaggerate things which is why every news story is dissected as soon as it arrives onto our screens, and also Mr. Norton hasn’t been the best at responding to my software issues. So I’m looking forward to uninstalling in the next week, and I’m hoping that some of my programs will run a lot faster. The only downside is that I have to make up a password tracker.

Silhill Gold Star at Encore, Stratford upon Avon

This was a surprising find for a corner pub known for its live music on one of the busiest corners of Stratford. In the summer, the licensee does a great job of attracting customers with a large floral window-box display above the pub’s first floor. Inside, the pub was quite quiet as we came in; there were just a few locals chatting to the Australian barman on duty. Luckily, he’d heard about our ale trail so grabbing a scan wasn’t a problem. But what I couldn’t see was how they could fit a live band in the pub every Saturday evening. The beer was in good form and had a nice sweet taste similar to mead but without its strength, but it was too strong for my drinking buddy. Our main problem was time as we only had an hour or so left of drinking time before we had to catch our bus home.