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When I watched "The Hunt" episode from the Twilight Zone (a couple of posts ago), I noticed it had been written by Earl Hamner (of "The Waltons" fame). I also saw he had written a couple of other TZ episodes. The next one that caught my eye was "The Bewitchin' Pool," which was broadcast as the final TZ episode. Reading the comments, I saw people either really loved it or really hated it. Now I always liked the connection provided by Appalachian and Ozark traditions between American culture today and the old ways of Europe, so I watched it...

1

2

3

After watching it, I thought, dang! That Aunt T... Yeah, she's a witch in a way, but not the Hansel and Gretel type. She's actually a goddess, known variously as Frau Holle, Holda, and Hulda, and others also connect her to Berchte or Perchta...or plain old Momma. She is best known to most in America through the tale "Frau Holle" by the Brothers Grimm. In that tale, she is noted as a spinner of cloth, a fastidious homemaker, and a bringer of the snow (when her feather bed is shaken). She is also a kindly granny who provides refuge to an ill-treated girl who falls into a well and ends up in the realm of Frau Holle.

"Holda (also known as Holle, Huld, and Frau Holle) is a Goddess from Northern Germany. Her name means “friendly, benevolent one” (in Old High German the word “Hold” meant benevolent or faithful) or “hidden one”. She is said to dress in white with keys on her belt. The keys were often worn by women who were head of their household to indicate their status. She is described as having ugly, big teeth, a big nose and a flat foot, which is a result of her love of weaving. The foot can flatten a due to the frequent pressing of the peddle on the loom. Her home is widely accepted to be Hohe Meissner mountain in Westphalia. She is said to dwell there in Kitzkammer cave where her cats live (who may be girls who Holda has turned into cats to live and work with her for a time as a consequence of their laziness) and have a lake known as Frau Holle lake where she keeps the souls of newborns and infants who die." (www.eplagarthrkindred.org/HoldaArticle.doc)



See the connection? The ill-treatment of the children by the parents, the kindly granny whose realm is reached by water and who provides refuge, the focus on chores and that in this case Aunt T works with needlepoint (akin to spinning). But there's more!

Holle Teich

Am Grunde eines kleinen Sees soll der Eingang zu Ihrem unterirdischen Reich liegen. Hier hütete sie die Seelen bis zu Ihrer Wiedergeburt. Aus der Tiefe brachte sie die Kinder in die Welt. Junge Frauen wurden schwanger, wenn sie Blumen in den See warfen oder darin badeten...

Der Frau Holle Teich mit seiner Holzskulptur der Frau Holle ist zum mythischen Mittelpunkt des Meißners geworden.

In jugendlicher Schönheit steht sie am Rande des Teichs. Der Sage nach soll Frau Holle hier ihr unterirdisches Reich gehabt haben. Hier brachte sie die Kinder aus der Tiefe des Wassers ans Licht der Welt, sodass noch bis in jüngster Vergangenheit Frauen mit Kinderwunsch kleine Opfergaben in den Teich warfen, um mit Kindersegen beglückt zu werden. Auch holte Frau Holle gerne spielende Kinder in die Tiefen des Teichs, um sie festlich zu bewirten und dann wieder nach Hause zu schicken.

Das von den Brüdern Grimm aufgezeichnete Märchen Frau Holle hat hier unverkennbar seinen Ursprung. Erstmals genannt wird der Frau Holle Teich 1641 in einer Beschreibung des Niederfürstentums Hessen als „Frauhollenbad“. Zuvor wurden die Geschichten rund um den Teich mündlich weitergegeben.(http://www.frau-holle-tor.de/frau-holle-land/maerchenhaft/holle-teich.html)

My German is pretty rusty but this is an approximate translation, using Babelfish, an old German dictionary, and my 30-year old high school German I learned from Frau Whitney (Danke sehr, meine Lehrerin!):

Frau Holle Teich (pond)

On the bottom of this small lake lies the entrance to her underworld kingdom. Here she guards the souls until your rebirth. Out of the depths she brings the children to the world. Young women would become pregnant if they threw flowers into it or bathed in it...

The Frau Holle pond, with its wood sculpture of Frau Holle, became the mythic center of the Meisners.

In youthful beauty she stands at the edge of the pond. The legend holds that Frau Holle has her underground realm here. Here she brought the children from the depths of the water to the light of the world, so that up until the recent past, women who wished to have children threw little offerings into the pond, in order to be lucky and blessed with children. Also kind Frau Holle gladly played with the children in the depths of the pond, in order to festively entertain them, and then again send them home.

The fairy tale "Frau Holle" noted by the Brothers Grimm has its recognizable origin here. Frau Holle's pond is described for the first time in 1641 in "Niederfürstentums Hessen" [a regional geography of Hesse] as "Frau Holle's Bath." Before that the history was passed on around the pond through oral tradition.

In many traditions, children are brought to our world from wells, ponds, lakes, rivers.

In Yorubaland, Nigeria, Africa, the Mami-Wata has much the same role as Frau Holle in this regard as a guardian and keeper of children's souls in the water. I went to Nigeria in 1996 through the sponsorship of Mike Warren, an American who had been appointed a chief through his marriage during Peace Corps service in Ghana to Mary Warren, a woman of chiefly lineage in Ara, Oyo State. Mary told us her parents had difficulty conceiving, so they made the appropriate prayers and sacrifices to the Mami-Wata ("water-mother," a river goddess), and in return, the Mami-Wata gave them one of her children for their own to raise, in this case, Mary. One recognizes these Mami-Wata children by the fact that until a certain age, one must not cut their hair, unlike other children. So in traditional Yoruba towns, when you see a pampered child with long dredlocks, I was told this is a sign the child is a gift of the Mami-Wata.

There is an additional layer of shamanic worldview here too. When Aunt T mentions the ways children get to her place, they are all liminal places, threshholds, "betwixt-and-between," traditional shamanic routes between the worlds. The swimming hole and the swimming pool are the same as the well and the pool in the Brother Grimm's tales. But she also mentions the other ways: coming down chimneys (passing between the upper and lower worlds), standing on a street corner (the crossroads), opening a door and there they are or on door steps (the threshhold between inside and outside).

"Mother Hulda is one of Germany's most durable female legendary figures and one who without doubt represents a pre-Christian heathen deity who survived in popular belief and in the memory of common people well into the nineteenth century" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mother_Hulda). That included the American South of Earl Hamner's literary world as well...and the reality is it didn't end with the nineteenth century! There are plenty of people who still revere Frau Holle today, both in Europe and in the U.S.
Here is a YahooGroup dedicated to Frau Holle.

"The Bewitchin' Pool" also seems to have been a favorite episode of many kids going through rough times. See this fellow's essay about it.

By the way, to me Aunt T looks a lot like what I remember of my Great-Grandma Head, who died in the 1970s when I was a boy. Her family was from the South and her maiden name was ... HAMNER. She was a professional seamstress too...

An excerpt from Thomas J. Elpel's Roadmap to Reality (link at the bottom):

"Besides being limited in our sensory organs, another obstacle to defining reality is that our perceptions are distorted by our survival needs. For example, in the human experience of reality, the deadly amanita mushroom is toxic and aptly named. However, from the perspective of squirrels, it might be more correctly called the "delicious amanita," which they eat and thrive upon. In a truly objective sense, an amanita is neither good nor bad, but from a human-centric perspective, it is definitely bad to eat. Similarly, we could not at this point declare that either murder or war are "bad" since that would be a judgment based on assumptions about reality. Nevertheless, I have no desire to eat a deadly amanita, nor to be stabbed or bombed. Dying might be a viable shortcut to get outside of this reality, but we may not find the answers we seek. We might also lose the chance to try again. There may be a better path to determining the real reality, and we can always resort to dying some other time, so let's start with a more inspired strategy and reserve death as a future possibility.

Thus, our quest is not objective in an absolute sense. It is undeniably biased towards the assumption that there is value in living, if only to have more time to ponder what that value might be. This bias is evident especially in regards to tackling the issues that threaten the future of humanity. If we are to survive as a species, then we must find a way to live harmoniously and sustainably with each other and the planet. Implicit in that statement is the judgment that our species is worth saving, at least for now.

We began this quest by acknowledging that our senses and survival needs provide us with a perception of reality that is both limited and distorted, and could be entirely illusory anyway. By this initial assessment of our situation, the task of determining the real reality would seem to be utterly hopeless. But let's consider the resources we do have at our disposal: We have the ability to compare different theories of reality, and to the extent that we can detach from our own cultural biases, we can reason through the differences between them in search of supporting or refuting evidence. We may not be able to prove any particular version of reality correct, but we might at least be able to dismiss some versions based on inconsistencies within them, which is equally helpful. By process of elimination, we can see what's left.

To ensure an objective playing field in this quest to define reality, I propose the following methodology: 1) we distinguish cultural realities from universal reality, 2) we assume that everything is true-at least within the proper context, 3) we proceed with unbounded open-mindedness tempered by equally unhindered skepticism, and 4) we look for consistency to test the probability or improbability of any particular version of reality.

Cultural Reality versus Universal Reality
Different cultures and religions often have very different viewpoints about what is right and wrong or how the universe works. In terms of food, for example, we may be horrified at the thought of eating a cat or a dog, but other people in the world are equally repulsed at the idea of eating beef or pork. Some cultures eat horses, rats, and insects, while others don't. Some ethnic groups avoid foods for legitimate physiological reasons, such as lactose intolerance. And in starvation situations, people have eaten almost anything, including other people. The point here is that food preferences often have little physical or nutritional basis; they are cultural biases-true within the context of the culture, but not universally true. Whether or not we personally decide to partake of new foods like cats or dogs or sushi, the quest to define reality requires that we recognize cultural realities for what they are-localized truths. Once we realize that, then we can seek out the greater universal truths. By detaching from our own conditioned sentiments about how things should and should not be, we can be open to discovering the universe as it really is.

Everything Is True within the Proper Context
In the quest to determine the nature of reality, all events and statements must be true-at least within the proper context, simply because they are generated by this reality and thus reflect something about it. In other words, no statements, anecdotes, or mysterious events can be dismissed as absolute fiction, because at some level there is truth about the nature of the reality that generated them."

(http://www.roadmaptoreality.com/Sample_Chapters/Quest_for_the_Real_Reality.htm)

I think a lot of us just are like plants. We grow where our seed is, we turn towards the light where we find it.

My innate belief, as best I can tell, is that the world is a Mystery with a capital M. I try and remember what -I- felt and knew from my earliest awareness. I knew there was a Mystery behind and suffusing everything with life, with light, with darkness, with intent. I am trying to think what I believed as a 3-5 year old.

I was taught "Now I lay Me Down to sleep" as my first prayer. This gave me a word to apply to a part of the Mystery, the part called "God." Dogs and other animals had a spirit the same as us, they just didn't talk, or talked differently. They had no hands, but they had paws. Plants had awareness. The sun, the moon, the ocean, everything was alive and part of the Mystery.

It was only at Easter that I went to Church. It was a Roman Catholic Church. I was baptized, and my godfather would become a RC priest. Church was holy, but in a human way that touched this part of the Mystery called "God." It was a special place in its "apartness."

There was indeed "bad" even before Church told me what bad was. Bad was something that was twisted from the Mystery and something that tried to harm you. Something to stay away from.

But the yard, the grass, the clouds, the wild doves, the hounds, they were also a part of the Mystery. Not as controlled, not as human, not focused like church, but of a grander part of power, a larger part of the Mystery. But church had cut itself off in someway, from that. Gaining focus in one way, but turning away from the rest too. It gained and it lost.

It was only when I went to Catholic school, when I gained the "age of reason" around 6 or 7, that these things became codified. And layers of other things, including guilt. The idea that heaven was our home not earth. On the one hand, it sounded ok to me, because life here was hard. My family was poor and I was picked on by bullies at school, so I accepted that heaven was better. And that God was there.

But the beauty of the world, the life in things, the Mystery was still there in the natural world. It dazzled me. The colors glowed with holiness. Even the scary things in the dark had a place in all This. So I had a split in my mind between two ways of believing, in nature and in the church. The world of human beings was an utter disappointment unfortunately at the time, because of the veniality, the pettiness, the selfish smallness, the intrusion into free will and seeking to manipulate, dominate, control.

I knew we were Indian and that our Creator could be seen in nature. So I was pretty much dual faith. My earliest experience of the Mystery of existence was further codified by age 12 in Church (sin, God, evil, angels, holiness, saints, reason, etc.) and in Native American ways (everything is related and part of the Mystery, nature is good, nature is the REAL thing, my human family is the most important thing, that and being in good relationship with nature, the old Indian way is the REAL human way before everybody went crazy after money and politics).

Now I am trying to heal that rift in my thinking, trying to make peace between the Church, the Native American, and bring them both back to the innate connection of Mystery.

All the rest of things I encounter: magic, druidry, science, everyday life, mainstream values, making a living, etc. are considered within this light of: Does it mesh with what I already hold as my deepest beliefs (my "ways"?) If I can't get them to fit, I put the things I encounter aside. They may be for others, but they are not for me.

Not that these other things might not be "true." I am just trying to integrate and not become further and further fragmented by conflicting "truths." I just have to be what I am, go back to my core of how I am, how I was when I was first myself. To find the Mystery again, because all "truths" (and really, all "lies") stand in relationship of some kind to the Mystery.

I cannot throw away my Catholicism or my Native American ways. I will not cut off an arm or pluck out my eye or cut off a chunk of my experience or reject my soul. I will not self-mutilate to suit any "camp." Ultimately, I trust God, I trust Divine Providence. I trust the Mystery to find Home.

So I'm nearing the end of my college curriculum, which means that there's a lot more rattling around in my head than there was a few years ago. I know a lot more about art and about games than I used to, and I have a lot more opinions about art and about games than I used to. So I'll go ahead and preface this post by saying that this is not an argument for the "games are art" debate, so much as an application of ideologies and thoughts to contemporary culture. If I talk too much, or you think I'm totally out of my depth, feel free to say so.

( Before we can apply postmodernism as an ideology, we need to understand it as a history... )

( Screw the history lesson. What does postmodernism have to do with videogames? )

The empire strikes back

In recent weeks, we've taken huge steps towards blocking spam accounts on LiveJournal. In fact, we've suspended as many as 30,000 accounts in a single day! We've implemented several pre-emptive measures to prevent the creation of spam accounts, and we've honed our detection of suspicious content. Spam bots are a crafty lot, so we'll continue to refine our tactics and keep up the good fight to keep you safe from spam attacks on LiveJournal.

RSS feeds again

If you're addicted to xkcd_rss, icanhaschzbrgr, or other syndicated feeds, we're pleased to report that we've resolved the update error that was mucking up your RSS feeds. While content was being pulled correctly, it wasn't being posted to the feeds themselves. Late last week, we finally nailed down what we hope was the root problem, so content should post properly. We thank you for your patience.

Wii have killer CSI Deadly Intent contests!

c_s_i

If you're a gamer who loves CSI, have Wii got news for you! c_s_i is sponsoring killer contests. Simply post a question to a member of the CSI crew. The winner will get a free copy of CSI: Deadly Intent for Nintendo Wii (with a retail value of $39.99) and get their question answered by a member of the CSI writing team! There's also a fantastic monthly contest. To enter, join c_s_i, play the online version of CSI: Deadly Intent, and respond to a two-part query for a chance to win a Wii! Entries will be judged on composition and originality. Sorry, but you must be a U.S. resident and over 18 years old to participate. Check out the rules here.

Enveloped in postcards

Last week, we asked you to send in postcards to help us decorate our drab concrete walls. Here's a photo of the results so far! Thank you so much and please keep them coming! You can mail them to Frank the Goat, Esq., c/o LiveJournal, Inc., 539 Bryant Street, Suite 210, San Francisco, CA 94107. Be sure to include your username, since we'll be giving ten random users paid account credits.

Photos of the week

If you haven't visited our new LiveJournal photo community, you're in for an amazing visual trip. LiveJournal users from around the world will take you on a scenic journey to everywhere. Post your own pictures or kick back and enjoy at lj_photophile. You can view some of this week's awesome photos after the jump. Please start tagging with geographic location, since we'd like to track all the places around the world represented in this community. Keep on commenting too!
( Read more... )

"The Hunt" by Earl Hamner, Jr. (retold by Richard L. Dieterle)

Once there was a man of the name of Hyder Simpson who lived in a cabin in the mountain country of Appalachia. He had a dog that he loved like a member of his own family. Every night they would go out hunting for raccoons or possums, and his dog never failed to pick up the trail. Once his wife Rachel remarked, "Sometimes I wonder who you love more, me or that dog of yours." He loved his wife dearly, but he liked to get out of the cabin and hunt whenever he could. He was tracking a raccoon on a particularly dark night, and his dog got well out ahead of him. He was an old man, and it was not easy for him to keep up. Although the dog was in hot pursuit, it seemed that he could never quite catch up to the raccoon. The raccoon cleverly doubled back on an old dead branch that stuck out way over the water's edge at a deep forest pool. The dog rushed headlong up the branch and fell straight into the water. Soon the old man was upon the scene. He called frantically for his dog, and soon realized that he had fallen into the pool. He did not hesitate for a moment to jump right in to the rescue.

1

The next day he woke up sitting against a tree trunk, his trusty dog lying by his side. "Well, old boy," he said to his dog, "it seems we spent the whole night sleeping out here in the boondocks. By now the old lady is probably frettin' up a storm. Time we got on back, I reckon." They were very near home when he crossed a field where two men were digging a hole in the ground. "Howdy," he said, "what's y'all diggin'?" But they did not answer him, even though they knew him. This made the old man angry: "What's the matter, you boys forget your manners?" Yet they just kept on with their idle talk just like he wasn't there. One said to the other, "You know, it's too bad about that dog, too." Then the old man understood, and said to himself, "That's mighty sad. No wonder they don't want to talk, they've lost their dog," and he and his own dog moved on towards home. He walked right in his cabin and there, unexpectedly, was a coffin sitting right in the middle of the room. He went to the back room, and there his wife was with the minister of the local church. She was in tears and he was trying to comfort her. The old man said, "Who died?" but no one answered him. "Woman," he said, "what's that coffin doing in our cabin?" Still she did not answer him. He found their behavior mighty peculiar to say the least. "Well," he thought to himself, "if that's how people are going to treat me, then I might as well spend the day huntin'." So he set out with his dog with nowhere in particular as a destination.

2

After traveling a very long ways, he came across a well traveled dirt road that he had never seen before. He had not long been on that course when he came to a fork in the road, and on the north fork was a man standing in a small booth like he had seen at the county fair many years ago. He looked just like a carnival barker, complete with straw hat and ready smile. "Howdy," said Hyder, "what's behind this here gate?" "Why, I would have figured that by now you'd know you was dead — this is the gate to Heaven, and I'm fixin' to let you right in!" said the gatekeeper. "Well, don't that beat all," said Hyder, "I should 'a known. So, you're St. Peter, then?" "The bona fide article," he replied. The gatekeeper swung the gate open. "And this here is Heaven," he added. However, Hyder saw wisps of smoke in the distance and asked the man, "What's that smoke off yonder?" "Why, them's just clouds," the gatekeeper replied reassuringly. As Hyder started to step in, the dog balked, and when he tried to pull him in, the gatekeeper said, "Now hold up there! We don't allow no dogs in Heaven." "Well," said Hyder with some regret, but with a firm resolution, "if they don't allow no dogs in Heaven, then I reckon Heaven ain't for me." With that, he walked on down the road, not knowing what to expect.

3

He didn't travel too far when to his surprise he saw a young man walking towards him. The man was dressed much like Hyder's own kinfolk, only his plaid shirt and levi britches looked new, store bought. The young man looked happy to see him, extended his hand, and said, "Howdy!" Hyder replied in kind, but felt a little uncertain about what was going on. "I'm the feller they sent to show you the way to Heaven," the young man said. "Now that's mighty strange," replied Hyder, "just down the road I met St. Peter himself and I would have been in Heaven already, 'cept they don't allow no dogs there. I just couldn't see goin' in if I couldn't take my huntin' dog with me." "That tweren't no Heaven, friend, and he tweren't no St. Peter," the young man replied. "Don't you see? If'n they had let your dog in he would 'a warned you of the burning sulfur up ahead. That's why he don't much cotton to dogs taggin' along." "My dog's gotten me out of plenty of jams before, but this do beat all!" Hyder declared. "Just the same, if they don't allow huntin' where you come from, then I don't reckon I'll be comin' along." The young man smiled at his naiveté — "Now what kind of heaven would it be if there was no huntin' and no dogs?" Then Hyder knew for sure he was headed in the right direction, and the two of them strolled happily down the lane towards the setting sun.

Commentary from Richard L. Dieterle:

"When I first saw this broadcast in 1962, I thought the story was very touching and in many ways more "realistic" than the usual Christian fare of winged angels and harps. The realistic elements are precisely those found in Hočąk thinking. I think any reader acquainted with Hočąk ideas of the afterlife will find it impossible to believe that this story is not profoundly indebted to them. For these themes, see below under "Themes."

The close association of man and dog is a prominent feature of Hočąk culture. In the accounts of some clans, the road to Spiritland has a fork with one branch leading off to the great Evil Spirit, Herešgúnina. The gatekeeper plays the role of Herešgúnina, and the young man is like one of the guides who helps the departed soul find his way to Spiritland. In the accounts of some clans, the soul may go to a heavenly village set aside for members of his clan. In the present story, this is reflected in the socio-cultural affinity of the young man with Hyder, and contrasts with the alien abode that will not admit dogs."
(http://hotcakencyclopedia.com/ho.Hunt.html)

An interesting nexus of synchronicities. This episode of the Twilight Zone, "The Hunt," was always one of the favorites of my brothers and me, sometimes THE favorite. Our family always had dogs, held them in great esteem, and we also believe dogs to have special qualities. We were almost religious about dogs, specifically hounds, as my grandpa was a big hunter with hounds in his youth in Nebraska and Kansas, mainly hunting raccoons. I did not know Hamner wrote the original story the episode was based on (http://www.magazine.uc.edu/0506/writing2.htm). He was also the creator of the series "The Waltons," which our family always watched. Many of our ancestors were poor rural whites from the hill country of the South, the Ozarks and the Appalachians. And the Hočąk are also known as the Winnebago, a tribe closely related to my tribe the Ioway. Interesting...

I recently posted about a letter one of my professors sent me, which essentially amounted to me getting an A on a presentation despite not having done the assignment properly. meepus asked me to post the presentation, and I said I'd go ahead and format the notes I presented as well as sum up my commentary on them in a subsequent post. Behold, this is said subsequent post. To save those uninterested the trouble of scrolling down on their friends list, you can find everything beneath the cut. The presentation was supposed to be 10-15 minutes long, including discussion. When I presented, I was able to fit into this window. The discussion, however, ran for about another 20 minutes. Hope you enjoy.

( Herman Melville's Moby-Dick is largely about the problem of God... )

What is everyone working on? Is anyone working on a NaNo fic this year, or is it all originals folks are working on?

And yet again I lag behind.

2278 / 50000 words. 5% done!

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The Chinese version of ONTD, AIYA is a dynamic international community that welcomes users who share a love of contemporary Chinese pop culture. Dedicated to celebrity gossip and entertainment news, you'll enjoy gorgeous photos and breaking stories featuring the glitterati of mainland China, Taiwan, and Hong Kong.

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Designed to rescue fashion victims everywhere, this Brit-based community reads like a rag-ezine. Published once or twice weekly, you'll view bizarre highlights of the global fashion scene through captivating photos and delightfully snarky editorial. Sit tight for a virtual fashion tour from the runways of New York to Milan to Paris and back home again to London in homage to the adage: you can't buy good taste.

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EDIT: If you're reading this, our maintenance is OVER! The problem was not found on our equipment, which means we'll have to work with our ISP to fix this small problem -- which also means another maintenance window in the future -- but at least we have eliminated our side.

Thank you everyone, and a special shout out to rekoil for giving me a great suggestion AND also the opportunity to feel like I've just called in to a local radio station.

Have a great day, night or afternoon wherever you may be.

---

Hi everyone, sorry for the late notice but I'm going to have to do some testing on 1 of our 4 internet circuits TONIGHT; Friday night or Saturday morning depending on which time zone you're in.

Most of us shouldn't notice any impact, though there may be some slowness or lag when I switch traffic on to our other ISP circuits and then another hit when I stop the tests. If a page won't load or times out, try hitting refresh 1 or 2 times and it should load then. If it doesn't work at all... trust me, I'll be typing really really really fast to try to undo whatever I just did. Hopefully you'll have some Halloween candy (if you're in the USA and celebrate that kind of thing) nearby to take away the bitterness of a small site outage. :(

Here's the handy-dandy Website That I Always Use to get a feel for when the maintenance will start in your area. Our site traffic historically dips on Friday afternoons until Saturday morning which is why we tend to pick this time for maintenance work.

( tech details )

status.livejournal.org will, of course be updated before and after the maintenance window. Or else marta will get mad at me. :D

bt