Food

Hi all,

Jen and I had a busy weekend. We plugged away on Saturday at the office, teaching an "Intro to Essay Writing" class that went over reasonably well. I'm hopeful that some of my students understand what they're doing afterwards, and that they begin to write decent essays if only to save my own sanity from some of the more interesting experiments in creative design that have resulted from their last few attempts.

I kid. The majority of my students know how to write an essay--they just need help making them more readable.

We hung out for the duration of the weekend: our plans to go to Everland were quashed by cold weather, and so we just... well, relaxed.

We grabbed a pizza on Saturday and sat out in the park, munching away happily and chatting about nothing.

However, we made a minor mistake on Sunday: we cooked. Now, both of us are actually pretty good cooks, but the problem is, we cooked Western style, and with olive oil.

We're not used to either, having lived in Korea for over half a year, and subsisting on rice and various veggies and meats that we've now become totally accustomed to. We've also become used to Korean portions: something I think I am going to miss when I come home.

So, a plateful of home-fries and chicken later, and we're both feeling a bit yucky this morning. We only got a few hours of sleep because, well, we ate too much.

It's a minor point, on the surface. Asian cuisine involves less food per person than does American or Canadian. Looking back, however, I'm frankly shocked by how much more a "Western" portion involves, and not at all surprised that the manner in which we cook (big portions, lots of starch, fried food, etc) results in health concerns and size differences between Canadians and Koreans. I'm only about 70 Kilograms (160 pounds), while Jen is a little bigger.

But Koreans on the whole tend to be slimmer and smaller than Westerners. Part of that is genetic, I'm sure, but a large part of it has to be the diets we live on.

Something to consider if you come here, and for when I come back, I think. I have no intention of returning to the consumption rate I used to live on, back home. I don't need as much food as restaurants serve in North America. I suspect, if I can live up to such a plan, I will be healthier for it.

Cheers,

Chris

Seeing Old Friends

Hi All,

Well, a brief-ish post today. I spoke last time about how we were losing some of our old core staff members, like Naomi (Kyong-Hee Hong, is her Korean name). She's a sweetheart, and basically a dear friend of the majority of the English staff who had worked at our Hagwon over the last two plus years.

Well, we decided to ask her to go for dinner tonight, alongside another friend and former co-worker from our school, Dave, whose blog is featured here. Dave's a smart guy, and a lot of fun to hang out with, not least because he shares Jennifer's and my mutual love of Settlers of Catan. Settlers has become the mainstay at our on-again, off-again games night with the folks from work, and it reminds us of home, where we first started to play it.

Dave, Jen, and I went out to our second Bluewings game of the 2009 campaign, against Jeju United. Once more, Suwon lost. I think this is a case of Championship Blues, or the like: Suwon won the K-League title last year, and played recently against David Beckham's LA Galaxy team. They're also in the Asian Football Championship Tournament, so I can understand some sluggishness. Still--losing to Jeju? Gah.

It was nice to relax a bit this weekend. I'm still teaching Kindergarten, but I had a breakthrough with one of my reticent kids. His name is Rick, and while he's cute as all get out, he was a problem child at first: I suspect his English is limited, and he was actively refusing to take part in class. His mother gave him heck, I think, because he came in after two weeks of rolling around on the floor in class and actively took part. 

Well, paid attention, at least, even if he didn't understand. This week, though, I was able to get him to repeat words, and, better yet, to point to material in the books we were reading that was the same. It's moments like that, when my kids have an "Ah-ha!" moment that I feel like I'm doing something of worth.

----

On that subject: I had an odd weekend. I read a coworker's blog, where she discussed having trouble connecting her personal perspective with her work here. I can respect that: there's a lot of strange decisions going on in our school, and at times it's easy to fall back on the "It's just Business" motto. I know all about that: I even fell back into that mentality at times, if only to protect my mental stability from the pressure of trying to get these kids to care.

I nearly broke down this weekend. Seriously, literally, and totally broke down. I was on the verge of giving up and going home, I was literally that angry. Our new curriculum took a month for us to sort out, and I was tired of having to come in early every day to fix things. I was ready to give up.

Jin, one of our Korean team-mates, fixed things, after a lot of work, and I feel better now. But it feels as if I'm struggling to swim upstream, all the while somebody's attaching a rope to my feet from the other direction. 

I'm obssessive compulsive--I need organization, especially in my work space, in order to function. I need it that way so I can keep my brain focused, and thus not go completely nuts when things go wrong. I admit to being a perfectionist, as well, so when things get disorganized, I get mad. 

It was frustrating, to say the least, this last month.

I am glad, though, to have spend an hour or two trekking with Jen around the highlands near Kyung-Hee Dae University, near our school and apartment. The mountains in this country are utterly gorgeous, and incredibly peaceful. One can easily lose hours climbing over the hills around one's own house, and its easy to see why hiking is so popular, here. 

It was a mini-date with my wife, which we needed, I think. We talked about a host of subjects, about life, work, and faith. I maintain my spirituality as a private matter--I don't discuss it with my coworkers, as my perspective would take some serious discussion to describe, not to mention, it comes across as seriously heretical to most Christians. I am what is called a Gnostic Christian, and the closest to my interpretation of my faith is the Universalist and Quaker traditions within the mainstream church. Of course, calling the Universalists "mainstream" sounds funny, but you get the idea.

I hold to the belief that God exists, not as a personal being (i.e., an incarnate "old man in the sky"), but as the fundamental spirt of all that lives, what John Shelby Spong calls "the ground of being." As such, I tend to distrust literalism and strict dogma--perhaps this comes from some innate distrust of authority engendered on me in my youth, but who knows, right? For me, like the Gnostics, God is to be found in the shared experience, those wonderful moments when the universe seems to click, and you have an "ah-ha" moment on some deep, fundamental level about life and the meaning of life itself. I've experienced that only a few times, and it leaves me shaken to my core when it does happen.

But a fundamental part of my faith is the belief that I, being constrained by an inherently subjective perspective (I don't accept the idea that God will tell me everything, and even if God did, I would be biased by said subjectivity), have the right to tell others what they should think. As Albert Camus said, I cannot tell others what is right, but I can rebel when I see something I think is wrong. In short, I don't talk much about my faith because I worry that I might interfere in the path and development of others. So long as their path does not prevent others from pursuing their own truths in turn, I find myself unwilling to interfere. 

Perhaps that is an odd perspective, but it is my own... and it was nice to talk with Jen about it this weekend. We fell in love because we were both thinkers and loved to have good, rational arguments about things. I still love her for that, and I hope that I can, in my small way here, encourage my kids to do as I was taught: to question everything, and try to grow.

Or, perhaps, in seeing my old friends, I am feeling nostalgic.

Peace,

Chris

Change

Hi all, 

It's odd, seeing how things change. Sarah and Amber, two long-standing members of the team at work, have headed home, their contracts here finished. We had to say goodbye to them at the end of February/early March, and it was odd to realize that Jen and I were, suddenly, among the most experienced/oldest ones in our branch of our school.

I mean, seriously? We're the old hands, now? After six months, we're supposed to be the experienced kids in school. Really?

We miss Sarah and Amber. Sarah helped me and Jen to acclimatize when we first got here. Similarly, Daniel, one of the others who joined us in September as new teachers, helped Sionna and Paulina, two new folks 2 months ago, to settle in. So, the older teacher helping the newer one(s) is a bit of a tradition in our school. It was therefore weird to say goodbye.

It was weirder, still, when Naomi, one of the Korean workers in our school, chose to leave. Naomi had been there from before Sarah and Amber's time, so at least two and a half years. She's one of the folks who helped keep us all sane, and to keep the branch running. I'm slightly nervous about how well we'll operate with her gone. The counter teachers are all hard-working, but of all of them, Naomi seemed to basically know where everything was at all times, and how to keep things working.

I wish her the best, of course, and understand why she left. She was working, essentially, 70 hours a week, while being paid for far less. That kind of stress, no-one deserves to have to handle. I've been volunteering to teach a kindergarten class with the school on Saturdays, and I'm exhausted from 50 hour weeks for the past two months. I can't imagine how Naomi felt.

It's odd to see that happening here. Maybe it's cultural, maybe not, but people seem to be putting themselves through hell, whether in the academy as a student, or at school, or work. Maybe it's a left-over from the devastation of the 2nd World War and Korean War--a desire to work hard to rebuild, or to make up for what was destroyed by the fighting... I don't know, maybe it's something else. Whatever the cause, the consequence of over-working is obvious: stress, and loss of staff members like Naomi, and Liz, another Korean staff-member leaving at the end of March.

I hope nobody else leaves--I do not want to be the most-experienced staff member, period, in the school. While that is unlikely, it does worry me. 

All else goes well. With the new essay classes I'm teaching, and problems with some of the test books, I've got a lot of work to do, but that's normal. It's nothing I can't handle. I just keep wondering about the future of the school, and looking forward, in some small ways, to coming home. I'm on the other side of half-way to being done with my contract, and it's weird to start counting down, instead of up.

Cheers,

Chris

Long Week

Hi all, 

A shorter post this week, as I'm rather exhausted. In short, at work, I was asked to help out by taking on a second kindergarten course, one which will run for another six weeks, in addition to the six I'd already agreed to. In other words, instead of finishing my run on the 14th, I'll not be finished teaching the little ones until mid-April.

While I love teaching the kids, the truth is, I'm exhausted. I need a break from six-day workweeks, and the sooner the better. The worst part is, the group I'm teaching for the second shift are mostly unable to speak English--so I'm jabbering at them in English to sit down, or to play, or whatever... and they don't understand.

Oh well.

We're also implementing a new curriculum, the details of which I shall spare you, gentle reader, since they involve a lot of frustration. I like the uniformity, but I don't like some of the difficulties we've had getting the system set up. I'm also working on an essay rubric--I'd like to have something we can give to the parents so that they know where their kids need to improve. We'll see how that turns out.

Jen, new teacher Jessica, myself, and the counter teachers Jin and Hong (Naomi) went to the first game of the season for the Suwon Bluewings. The atmosphere was great, even if we did not win. 

We also finally finished Chi Bi, by John Woo, and saw the Watchmen. Both were decent adaptations of their respective fictional forefathers. The former was actually based on real events, but played out like a rather-heavily adapted version of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, while the latter endeavored to stay reasonably close to its comic book original. Neither were perfect, but they were enjoyable.

Best regards,

Chris

Theatre, Tae Kwon Do

Hi all,

My apologies for the lengthy delay in between my last post and today's. I've been busy, and sick, and while having a cough and working on report card's is no excuse, I hope, as an explanation, it will suffice.

We spent yesterday in Seoul--camera-less, for which I apologize--after Kindergarten class in the morning at school. I'm up to 8 munchkins, now, and I've got them hopping around happily all class. It's a ton of fun, and they remain incredibly cute--it's tiring, but totally worth it. And if it helps give our campus a shot in the arm, which it looks to be doing, more power to 'em. I hope this project succeeds--if it does, we could start getting more kids to learn English at a younger age. For fiscal reasons, this is incredibly important--they stay longer, after all, but more importantly, it will help give them the phonemes necessary to learn English from an early age. Phonemes is a fancy linguistic term meaning the sounds used by a given language. I can hear, for example,t he phonemes in Korean, but I miss the ones in Chinese by a mile, having never been exposed to it. I'm very good at hearing Japanese, French, and Spanish sounds, having spoken or been around speakers of those languages regularly in the past. 

That said, while it's entirely possible (and, indeed, some argue, easier) to learn a foreign language as an adult, it can't hurt to get 'em hooked on English young. I agree with this website's assessment of language learning--we can learn as adults, too, if we work at it, but getting used to language when young makes it incredibly easy to develop one's skills in it as one gets older (I can still, for example, speak reasonably good French, thanks to my mom and dad exposing me to it early, and living in France for a year when I was young).

Anyway, I digress. We went into Seoul with Jessica, one of our new teachers. We're going to be losing Sarah and Amber, both of whom have been here for nearly two-and-a-half years. The loss in teaching experience, in addition to the transfer of another teacher, Oliver, who came when we did, means that our school is going to be changing a lot in the next few weeks, between that and the new books and new term we're starting (Korean schools begin their new grades on March 2nd this year). It's sad to see those two go--they helped ease us into Korea, and they're a great pair of people. 

So, we went into Seoul to show Jessica how to get into Gangnam (pronounced Kang-nahm), Kyobo books, and a few other things. We got a few cheap movies while we there, including John Woo's Red Cliffs, which, frankly, is made of pure awesomeness. 

We then went further North, leaving Jessica with Sarah and Ashley, our coworkers, while we went downtown to meet up with another friend for some Korean performing arts. We saw a traditional dance (very different, it was all men doing the dancing), zither performances, and some really amazing folk drumming. Just when you thought they couldn't go faster, they did. Ditto with the volume--my ears are still ringing a bit.

We then went off to Myeong-Dong with Sumi, our coworker, and her friends Janice and Andrew. Why Myeong-Dong, you ask? Well, that's where Seoul Tower is. We had planned to get back to Gangnam for 9 PM to meet up with Ashley and Jessica again, but by this time it was 8, and I was pretty sure we weren't going to make it, with the 30 minute wait for the cable car, and another 30 minute wait for the elevator to the top of the tower.

The view was awesome--dark, yes, but worthwhile to see the lights of the Sprawl below stretching out like trees across the mountains. It was like looking at a William Gibson cyberpunk novel, a city that has become so large that it integrates the surrounding, formerly independent cities, into it, and claims the title Megapolis or Megacity with ease. Tokyo, I hear, is the same, and I look forward to seeing that colossus in time--it reminded me of looking at Beijing by night--massive, and unapologetic about it. But Seoul has a unique feeling to it. Smaller in terms of population (if only slightly), but cramped into tighter space, the city grew up instead of out--apartments rise and stack on top of each other like cardboard boxes, or plants reaching towards the sun, while 10 million people happily swarm around each other, hive-like, but each an individual.

Humanity has always fascinated me--we are capable of producing some real wonders, and cities are one example of this.

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Tae Kwon Do

Why a digression on my favorite Korean martial art? Well, because, after nearly fourteen years of studying it, I am coming to the conclusion that I either have to look for a new form of training, or a new art. I love Tae Kwon Do--its eminently practical at times, utilizing the power of the fighter's legs to give one the ability to do massive damage to an attacker, fast, and then get out of the fight once you've made sure that you can't get hurt.

Tae Kwon Do is not a new martial art--it's about fifty or sixty years old, and was explicitly designed after World War Two to combine the various divergent Korean martial arts into one that could be universalized across the country, and, eventually, around the world. I recall reading somewhere--don't remember where exactly--that it's become one of the most popular martial arts in the world, partly due to its usefulness, but, sadly, also because it becomes exceptionally easy to turn into a McDojang (you go in, pay your money, and get a black belt in a year, which is, pardon the phrase, bullcrap in my mind).

It evolved from Tang Soo Do, Takkyeon, and older forms of Korean fighting, which date back to the original fighting arts of the old Three Kingdoms period. The Hwarang, a group of young men picked by the Ssilla (Shilla) Kingdom's rulers, which eventually evolved into an elite, aristocratic fighting force, helped develop some of these arts, which may well be the origins of the style I've practiced for over half of my life.

In its best forms, Tae Kwon Do mixes speed training, kicks, punches, 'harder' strikes (elbows and knees, in my mental classification), throws, and self-defense training (close in combat techniques for when someone grabs you or comes at you with a knife). My first dojang (training hall) in Dallas, was an exemplar of this. Our instructor borrowed liberally from Hapkido (a Korean variant on Aikido), weapons training, and Ju-Jitsu  (Japanese grappling) to produce a martial art that was flexible and focused on developing the art of fighting and self-defense. 

There, we studied dozens of kick variants, arm techniques, weapons forms, poomseh (katas in Japanese, or choreographed forms in English), and sparring techniques, all designed to emphasize the training of the body to react instinctively to threat. In short, Tae Kwon Do can be an extremely effective martial art, especially if it leads the practitioner to realize that it can be supplemented with, or used to supplement, other arts and thus combined to make a better whole. Tae Kwon Do is not without flaws, even then--the emphasis on jumps, spin kicks, and high kicks can leave one exposed in a real fight, which, I think, is the real reason one studies martial arts. In its purest forms (whatever that means), it lacks strong hand and arm techniques, and often, emphasizes the legs to the exclusion of all else. That's fine, except if your opponent knows how to fight up close and can grapple.

In its worst forms, I've seen Tae Kwon Do dojangs where the student goes in, pays their money, and gets their black belt in such a short matter of time that they could not possibly hope to fight a real opponent and win, or, worse, where they lack the self-discipline and enlightenment necessary to realize that the most valuable fighting technique is the ability to avoid a fight in the first place. I hold a second-degree (2nd or Ii Dan) black belt in Tae Kwon Do, and have held it for almost 8 years--I've not levelled up higher than that because I've had to move often in the last eight years, and went to a few dojangs that basically told me I'd have to start over, again, in their style (annoying, but when they're the only dojang around and one doesn't have a car, you smile, nod, and swallow your complaints, and take from the school what you can). I have not fought another person in that entire time, nor will I, if I can avoid it, for the remainder of my life. I know I could cause the other person harm, and that entering the fight in the first place is a failure on my part, as a martial artist, to find a more appropriate way out of the situation. 

Some dojangs, like one I went to, here, are exceptionally good--but focus on sparring, training for the Olympics and competition, or demonstration. The problem I had with the local dojang is that they were trying to get me to do the same. I'm not interested in sparring much anymore--I have significant knee injuries that I have acquired over fourteen years of heavy training (most of which are my own fault, or came through sparring!). I also recently discovered I have a problem with one my vertebrae, so, while I'm also simply getting older, I'm not so stupid as to willingly throw myself into sparring with the Korean National Demonstration Team, nor try their tricks. I don't see any practical use in throwing a 720 degree kick in mid air, upside down, in a fight. 

I emphasize practicality in my own training, and when I teach others. If you can't use it in a fight (if you can't get out of the fight, I should add), then what good is it? Unfortunately, I lack the Korean language skills to explain my concerns to the instructors at the dojang, and I've had one too many injuries while there. Part of this is the language barrier... but the other part is a sense in some Tae Kwon Do dojangs, and especially, it seems, here in Korea, to wave off pain as part of the learning experience. Sure, pain, sparring, and the occasional bruises are normal in martial arts training. 

However, and I must say this is a large however, one should not put a student in a position where one is liable to get hurt, simply for the sake of doing so, or for teaching techniques which are only to be used in demonstration. There are some wonderful demo teams out there--the group at this dojang included, they're simply brilliant. I'm not that good. Sure, I'm a good fighter, and I can hold my own in a sparring contest, and I know I could break bones if I got into a real fight. But I'm not interested in demonstrations--I'm pragmatic in my training, and maybe a bit old, and I know when I need to stop, back away, and think about things.

I hurt when I get up in the morning--another sign, sadly, that I need to take a break. I continue to keep up my exercise, privately, at the gym, and in the park near our apartment. I will continue my training, but I will do it my way. I'm not a master--I never earned that privilege. However, I am entirely capable of practicing on my own, and teaching others.

While this blog is dedicated to my travels here in Korea, I may, as time goes on, begin to discuss martial arts in more depth, and my thoughts on them. I begin to suspect that I will endeavor to begin blending, as my old master in Dallas did, various martial arts to find a more perfect union of them. Tae Kwon Do is incredibly valid, and I have no trouble at all with people who want to train for the Olympics and for demonstrations. I simply have no interest in that route. And while sparring is a necessary part of training, it should not be done in such a way that it is unsafe. One of my favorite lessons from my old teacher was that, in a dojang, one studies with the other students--one should not go out of one's way to hurt one's training partners!

I love the martial arts, and will continue to train in them--but I will do so in my own way, and with care and concern for myself, and those who train with me. The goal is to learn self-defense, and self-discipline, not self-injury. It is so much a part of my identity, that I have no intention whatsoever of stopping completely, but I sense a time has come for a pause to reflect on my progress, my capabilities, and what I want to do in the future with my studies. If I should continue in Tae Kwon Do, I will be happy. If I choose, instead, to begin branching out and to study other forms of martial arts, I will be equally happy. I continue to study, and in so doing, to discover more about myself as I grow older and, hopefully, somewhat wiser.

Anyway, rant over--I've meant to talk about this for a while.

Best regards,

Chris

Happy Valentines Day

Hi all,

A brief post, as I'm a bit rushed for time this week--between a sore throat and running around for work, parent-teacher meetings, and the like, I'm in vegetable mode when I come back home.

We went to Changdeokgung, a palace in Seoul. Once the secondary palace of the Joseon Dynasty, which ruled Korea for several hundred years, the palace became the primary one after the Japanese destroyed the main palace by fire during the invasions in the late 1500s. It's gorgeous, set into the hills and forests of a garden complex in the north end of Seoul. Tucked into the foothills, it's designed to be as natural as possible. 

It has a bit of a sad history, despite the beauty and its role as the former seat of power in Korea. It was there that the last Korean scion of the Joseon died in the late 1900s. It was there that the Japanese annexed Korea. 

It's a beautiful and sad reminder of how lovely this country is, and how much history is here, both good and bad. I love teaching here, and learning about Korean culture and tradition--it's just a wild turn to see the differences between, say, Canada and Korea, since we don't have the history of a war as catastrophic (within Canadian borders... World War One and Two were devastating to Canada in their own way) as what happened to Korea during the Occupation.

Anyway, enough of the tragedy. It was beautiful, and we had a laugh walking past the National Ddeok (Teok) museum... basically, a rice cake museum. Oh, bother.

We celebrated Valentine's Day by watching JCVD without subtitles and laughing ourselves silly.

All the best, folks,

Chris

Kindergarten

Hi all,

Started teaching, on a voluntary basis, Kindergartners on Saturday morning. The tykes are exceptionally cute, and I've got a trio of little geniuses in the class. All three speak very well in English, so it's almost like teaching English Kindergarten back home. 

We started out by playing Sit Down, Stand Up. Basically, the idea is to have the kids learn basic English words, most of which they already know, and to warm them up. It's also important, since it keeps the kids happy. Jen's mother said, and I think she's right, that teaching kids that age requires almost twice as much work as other classes: its like having 20 mini-two-minute lessons, so that you can keep their attention. 

We then went to finish the book, do some drawing, and at one point, I had them hopping around the room (saying the word 'hop' as they did so), to teach them the word, and because we were reading about a frog. The little ones were exceptionally cute.

I noticed that as well: we're using a basic readers book, which, while good, is a bit dry--it's lots of reading.

That said, it's a great idea: it's a pilot program to see if we can start teaching younger children at the Hagwon. This'd be a great strategy if it can work: the younger ones are more interested, and are exceptionally fun to teach. Plus, while it's great to have older kids, the younger ones, if they stay, are a more lucrative source of revenue--they stay longer.

I admit, I've come to enjoy teaching my young classes a great deal. They often get me laughing along with them, and I really and truly genuinely like my students. It's good to know that I can handle kids, especially if Jen and I ever decide to have children of our own.

I don't talk much about teaching on this website, if only because, well, there are a dozen other blogs and websites out there that already do--one of the best is Dave's ESL Cafe, which is expat central online in Korea. That said, if you're going to do this, it's worth trying. It's not easy--there are a host of things that can go wrong, Korean and North American work habits and organizational styles are different, and sometimes, no matter how good your school might be, you might have a bad day or have trouble connecting with a student. All that said, if you go in to a school with an open-mind, and a bit of determination, it can turn out brilliantly.

Like with my little kids, for example.

If I can, I'll try to take a picture with some of them, and post them online. I'm a bit no-nonsense in my class, and forgetful to boot, so I might not have time or might forget, but I will endeavor to do so and have some pictures online by the time I leave this country, since my kids are either: A) very cute; B) fun; C)funny as all get out; or D) just plain neat to be around.

We can probably all tell stories, those of us doing this mad tour in Asia. Some of 'em good, some of 'em bad. I consider myself very fortunate to be able to say that, so far, at least, things are going well.

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Went in to Yongsan in Seoul. The electronics capital of this tech-crazy country, Yongsan has anything and everything of a tech nature a geek like me could want. The only problem is money, and that some hardware (say, a Wii, or PS3), is wired for Hangeul, and I don't trust my computing skills to reconfigure it/care to pay the kind of money it costs to buy one. They're cheaper, here, but that doesn't change the fact that they're still pricey.

Or that I have a ton of stuff to do, as is!

Also, if you want to find cheap films, Yongsan is also the place to go. Holy smokes.

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On a sad note, we're trying to find someone to babysit poor Amy, our cat. She's a sweetheart, but the trouble is she A) needs attention, and B) needs to be the only cat in the house. Pete, a friend of mine from back home, has been able to take care of her up 'till now, but, well, she's started having dominance issues with his own cat, Penny. Not the cats' fault, really, and I'm sorry that Pete's gotten stuck having to clean up after Amy since she's upset.

I'm hopeful we can find a solution, since we don't want to lose our cat. 

----

Later,

Chris