On this feast of Saint Benedict, we here at Serendipity Farmhouse are meditating on the Latin prayer that begins “Crux sacra sit mihi lux!” – May the holy cross be my light! In so many ways it reflects our life as Oblates of St. Benedict. – If the Holy Cross is our light, we will never live in darkness.
You can carry this prayer with you always, if you wear the Medal of St. Benedict. The initial letters for the prayer are on the back of the medal. They are inscribed in the vertical (CSSML) and horizontal (NDSMD) members of the cross.
The full form of the prayer: Crux sacra sit mihi lux! Nunquam draco sit mihi dux! – May the holy cross be my light! May the dragon never be my guide!
A little background on our Benedictine way of life
The feast of St. Benedict is an important day at SFH. It reminds us of the peace and stability that can be found living according to the Rule of St. Benedict. We have been Oblates since 1980. Since then, we have been associated with the Oblates of Conception Abbey, located in Conception, MO.
What do I know about my father’s secrets? I lived with him for 17 years and we had many a long talk. But they weren’t just long talks, they were much more than that. Dad was a storyteller. His stories transported me to far off places in Europe, Asia, and South America. Yet, with all of that, there remained stories that went untold. – For decades now, I have wondered if I didn’t ask him the right questions, or if these untold stories were my father’s secrets?
My Father – What I know and what I don’t.
In the early 1950s, Dad traveled to Peru for a big engineering job. Although he didn’t say it, while in Peru, he traveled from one end of the country to the other. That’s because the pictures and artifacts he brought back add more to his story.
For example, I still have an ashtray he gave me from the Chimu Hotel in the town of Chimbote. The picture you see here is Dad standing in front of a fishing boat and several reed boats (caballitos de totora). The location probably was on the Pacific coast near Huanchaco, Peru, northwest of Chimbote.
The problem for me, however, is for all I know about Dad’s time in Peru, there is so much I more don’t know. I never asked the question, and he never ventured to tell the story. The same can be said about so many periods in his life. Perhaps there wasn’t enough time to tell the story, or perhaps he thought there was no need for me to know.
Other Fathers and Their Stories
Just yesterday, my beautiful Wife and I told a story to one of our grandson’s. It was a story about his dad, our son. It is a story that we treasure and have recalled many times since the 1980s when it happened. Our son, though very young, met and talked with the Papal Nuncio. In fact, he even gave the Papal Nuncio a letter for the Pope. Sometime later, the Papal Nuncio sent a letter to our son telling him that he was in the prayers of the Pope.
The point is our son had not kept this a secret. He had merely never told the story. And which of his children would ever think to ask such a question? – Sometimes a father’s secrets are unintentional.
My Own Secrets
Not all fathers started out as good men. Many of us fathers are still working at becoming good men. In that sense, we don’t want our children to be the men we were. As father’s, our job is to strive to teach our children how to become the men we would want to be.
Like my father, I have become a storyteller. Many of my stories fictionalize real events from my younger years. Sometimes, I tend to embellish the stories with colorful and incredible details. Believe me, I have told a lot of whoppers along the way. Nevertheless, it’s important to tell these stories. This is because my children and grandchildren might not think of asking me the question. Yet years from now, they might wish they had.
But since I was the man I was, there are some stories that I need not tell. And just as it was with my father, that’s okay. My job is not to discourage or dishearten. Rather, my job is to strive to teach my children and grandchildren how to become like the man I would want to be.
What Man would I want to be?
So, thinking about all the joy I experienced this Father’s Day, perhaps it’s time answer the question for my dad, and for my son, and for myself. What man, what father, what father without secrets would I want to be? – – – See for yourself.
There it stands, strong and silent, ever there to support me – I call it my tree of motherly memory. In photos from the past, you can see its strength and size. It reminds me of my concern for the children I would raise. This picture of me leaning on my tree shows the worry in my eyes.
A Day for Motherly Memory
Today, children and husbands are giving cards and gifts to mothers everywhere. For many of us, this is a time we think back dearly on our moms who are no longer with us. Hubby lost his mom on the day before Mother’s Day years ago – such a very sad memory. And, of course, my thoughts and prayers will be with my children’s Granny Ida.
There’s So Much More to Say
Let me step aside and take a different view of this day for mothers. With all this praise for us from our children, wouldn’t it be fitting to also think of them. I had the privilege to raise, care for, and teach three beautiful children. A fourth child did not make it to term. I wish I could have met him and cared for him too.
Those three beautiful children have grown and matured. They are now parents like me. They are good parents. And, just like me, my two daughters and my daughter-in-law have experienced the worry of child-bearing and the daily concerns and heartaches of motherhood.
When all is said and done, look how my children have grown. See what they have become. They have loved me so much, and they have helped me to grow in the virtues of patience and perseverance. I am so proud of them and who they are.
What is the Lesson I Have Learned?
My girls visited yesterday. We had tea and charcuterie. They brought flowers and presents, including a gift bag from my son. I’m sure the phone will ring today, there will be a call from each one of them.
There it stands, strong and silent, ever there to support me – I call it my tree of motherly memory. I can picture it as the the large tree behind me in that park in Pacific Grove. But as I open my cards and look at the flowers and gifts today, I know there is a lesson to be learned. That tree in the park is just a symbol of something much larger and stronger.
The real tree that supports me is my Faith, my Hubby, and the three children God has given me. I have learned that it is my family that is my tree of motherly memory.
“Hallow ✠ this New Fire” is a phrase the priest prays as part of the blessing of the new fire at the Easter Vigil Mass. In this prayer, we make use of the fire or light as a symbol of Christ. The cross (✠) inserted in the prayer marks the moment when the priest makes the sign of the cross. By this sign he asks Christ to sanctify the fire.
In the eyes of the world, that cross is an instrument of physical death. Now, the sign of the cross, through Christ, sanctifies the New Fire and inflames the hearts of those who believe with heavenly desires. Therefore, we pray that we may join in this feast of perpetual light.
Here at Serendipity Farmhouse, we take Holy Week very seriously. With the exception of Holy Saturday, we made our way to St. Peter’s every day. There, we spent time in reflection on the mysteries of this singular week in human history.
We usually don’t attend the Vigil Mass. Instead, we attend the Easter Morning Mass. But, at about the same time the Vigil Mass begins at St. Peter’s, we light our own New Fire here at SFH. We use this time to consider what we have done during Lent and Holy Week. The bright flames of the fire fill our hearts with “heavenly desires” and we look forward to the great feast of Easter.
Last year, the weather was mild and the full moon rose over our river. It was the perfect night for a fire.
This year, it was cold when we lit our New Fire. It was also the perfect night. That was because, with the cold, we were reminded in a very real way, that this fire not only brings light. It also provides warmth and consolation.
How great is our God! He has bestowed on the faithful the fire of His brightness by His Son!
It’s been over three years since my girls have joined me for tea at Serendipity Farmhouse – three very long and trying years that need to be put far behind us. (See our posts here, here, and here.) After many recent texts, emails, and phone calls, it became clear that the time to restore our family tradition was finally here. The girls missed me, they missed each other, and they missed chatting over a hot cup of tea.
No, we weren’t ready for the formality and lengthy preparations needed for a high tea such as we had in August 2019. After all, we have grown to be more mature. For some, that means there has been growth in knowledge and confidence, and for me, that means perhaps a growth in the wisdom of age. – There is now a new SFH reality: no longer was I to be the only host and provider, my daughters and granddaughters now wanted to prepare the treats and take a more active part in planning – it was time for Granny to have more time to sit with the girls and share in all that makes our tea time a golden time for making memories.
To be sure, I still had to put on my apron and make sure the grand SFH dining room was clean and ready. Likewise, the soon-to-be-world-famous SFH Test Kitchen had to be immaculate. Usually, my dearest friend Nancy would have been here to help with these tasks, but unavoidable circumstances made that impossible this year. So, Hubby voluntarily came out of his “tea time hiding place” and did a great job cleaning and arranging cups, pots, and kettles. Despite all his efforts, Nancy was sorely missed.
Mr. Monte is no longer a young cat. Rather, he has gotten much older and set in his ways over the last three years. The sudden, unannounced arrival of nine happy, chatty young ladies was not necessarily to his liking. In fact, he took the whole event rather poorly. Let’s just say Mr. Monte’s actions were not how you would describe a cat overflowing with hospitality and a welcoming spirit. Needless to say, but I’ll say it anyway, Mr. Monte was asked to retire to the upstairs office for the duration of the tea.
Daughters and granddaughters outdid themselves preparing the finest of foods to accompany our tea. None of their masterpieces were from box mixes. No, I say it quite proudly, my girls did it all from scratch, with great creativity and delightfully tasting results. See below some of their creations.
Beyond the excellent teas and the finest of edible treats, there was the joy of being together again.
It was so very wonderful to see my daughters, daughter-in-law, and granddaughters all together again. How everyone has grown and become so much more in every way. It reminds me of two verses from Ecclesiastes:  All things have their season, and in their times all things pass under heaven. …  That which hath been made, the same continueth: the things that shall be, have already been: and God restoreth that which is past.
And this past week saw the restoration of a beautiful family tradition – Saturday, January 7th, was “A Time for Tea.”
Girls, thank you for coming to Serendipity Farmhouse and sharing a cup of tea with me!
It’s happening all around us. Innocent, unsuspecting trees are being robbed of their rightful destiny. Already, they are laying at the side of road, waiting to be carried off to oblivion. This is the sad case of the Tannenbaum Evictions. What’s worse is that in the process of evicting these poor trees, parents are depriving their children and themselves of the fullness of the Christmas Season. It is an abuse. It is a poverty.
“The liturgical season of Christmas begins with the vigil Masses on Christmas Eve and concludes on the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord [this year celebrated on January 8th]. During this season, we celebrate the birth of Christ into our world and into our hearts and reflect on the gift of salvation that is born with him, including the fact that he was born to die for us.” – USCCB
Here at Serendipity Farmhouse, our tree is still up, the Nativity scene remains in place on the front porch, and my sweet and wonderful Spouse and I continue to exchange Christmas greetings. If something is worth celebrating, it is worth hanging on to it as long as possible – and so we do.
Advent this year was filled with prayer and preparations. Just as we said we would in our post The Wake-up Call, we took the time “to pray to cast off the works of darkness; to prepare for our salvation; and to preserve in the heart of our family all that sustains the armor of light.”
Unfortunately, this Advent was filled with sickness. The families of our three children were each burdened with one or the other of the many diseases now in our region. Beautiful Wife and I likewise came down with some nasty ailments, the effects of which linger to this day. Even worse, a chronic condition had already weakened my dear Wife. Consequently, she was bedridden for several days by the flu.
Despite all of the sickness. Advent was a wonderful time. We had planned ahead, and our shopping and sending of Christmas greetings was completed a full week earlier than usual. So, when we arrived at our church on Christmas Eve, we were fully ready to partake in the joy of the Mass and the beautiful music from the choir. It was a Mass to remember.
Much of the country was dealt a harsh blow by Winter Storm Elliot on Christmas. Although our county did not receive heavy snow or ice, it did feel the winter chill – a low of 5.7 F° on Christmas morning. Three days earlier, SFH was inundated with nearly three inches of rain. So, the river was running high and cold on Christmas day.
Winter weather, sickness, Christmas preparations, all the things that can make for distress and worry – they were all there ready to assault your peace of mind, unless you reminded yourself constantly that there is indeed a reason for this season. The Christ Child was coming. Even Mr. Monte knew that he should ready himself for what was to come. We had the Advent wreath and cranberry scones to remind us and Monte had the warmth of the wood stove to remind him.
We here at SFH are hoping you are having the very best Christmas ever.
Merry Christmas, God bless! & Don’t evict your tannenbaum!!
To my 23,417 feline followers, especially my many cat cousins residing in Virginia and Ohio, at 3:49 AM this morning I plopped myself down precisely at the center of Ol’ Fuzz Face’s chest. After ensuring that I had elicited a suitable groan from Fuzzy, I began to purr loudly in a most endearing fashion. Because he had not yet awakened fully, I then stroked his bearded chin with my left paw. Acknowledging my loving attention, Fuzzy pulled his left hand from under the covers and patted me on the head but showed no sign that he was ready get up and feed me. Alas, at that point my patience had waned and I was forced to gently but convincingly bite his left wrist. Recognizing that there was no alternative, Fuzzy surrendered to my will and crawled out of bed.
As the old guy and I ate breakfast together, I reminded him that he and I had to draft a post highlighting the visit by the Big Admiral and her jovial, guitar-pickin’ husband. (See: Oh, Drat! More Turmoil for the Cat!) As usual, Fuzzy had been slow in editing pictures for the post. As usual, his tardiness was due to late-life mind fog and essential laziness. As usual, Blondie and I have had to kick-start him to get the job done. So, after a long delay, here is Ol’ Fuzz Face with the post you have been eagerly anticipating.
—- Ol’ Fuzz Face Tells the Tale —-
There are rumors that these two lovely sisters were originally from a cabbage patch somewhere in northeastern Georgia. After visiting the BabyLand General Hospital in Cleveland, GA, I am inclined to believe the rumors are true.
Needless to say, though I will say it anyway, the beautiful lady on the left is my most dear and lovable spouse Blondie, who is also known as ‘the Admiral’. To her right, is her equally dear and lovable sister, whom we know as ‘Aunt Pat’ or ‘the Big Admiral’. – – Let there be no mistake, both of them are impressive and formidable forces in the family, demanding great respect. When the two of them are together, every one in the family knows that they must toe the line; to do otherwise would be a grave mistake. – – Even Mr. Monte acknowledges that fact.
Early on, a third person came into the picture. That would be ‘Uncle Larry’ who used his innate charm, clever wit, and guitar-pickin’ skill to win the heart of Aunt Pat. Although it took Blondie a while to warm up to this erstwhile interloper, eventually she too recognized that he would be a good fit into the family. Some years later, I came along to make this a family foursome. Now, after all these years, it’s easy to see that this was all as it was meant to be.
Thus, this October reunion at Serendipity Farmhouse was a time of great joy and merriment. Old times and current family events were discussed. Fine food was shared. And there was music, lots and lots of music and foot-thumping entertainment. – – Son #1, Daughter-in-Law #1, and eight grandchildren came to SFH and spent most of a Saturday visiting with Aunt Pat & Uncle Larry. Uncle Larry’s music rocked the house. Everyone joined in the fun and sang along. Grandson #1 was even invited perform his interpretation of Tennessee Ernie Ford’s ‘Sixteen Tons.”
On Sunday, Daughter #2 entertained Aunt Pat and Uncle Larry with a fine meal and enthusiastic conversation. Son-in-Law #2 and the grandchildren talked over old times and listened intently as Uncle Larry told stories about heart-stopping visits by SWAT teams and other such unusual events. Yes, it was another day to remember.
A most unusual friendship developed over the course of the several-day visit. In a totally unexpected and uncharacteristic manner, Mr. Monte decided that Aunt Pat was to be his new found friend. He would stay as close to her as he normally would with Blondie. To the surprise and astonishment of all, Mr. Monte even made time to teach Aunt Pat how to shake his paw and give him tasty treats. – – We had all expected that Mr. Monte would retire to the bedroom for the entire visit. Instead, He decided to make this 50+ year foursome into a brand new family ‘quintet’.
So, the moral of the story certainly must be: Where there is love, there’s always room for one more in the family.
Now, Mr. Monte thinks of his dear Aunt Pat, and never more will he think ‘Oh, Drat!’.
To my 23,417 feline followers, especially my many cat cousins residing in Virginia and Ohio, my primary duty here at Serendipity Farmhouse (SFH) is to protect the lives and ensure the safety of all humans who reside in or visit this vast 1.203-acre SFH estate. Because the estate is located along the North Fork of the Thornton River, there is abundant wildlife and no shortage of nuisance animals. Some of those creatures are potentially dangerous and are not welcomed here. Others are relatively benign, but they are capable of disturbing the tranquility that is a hallmark of SFH.
This past week, Grandsons #2 and #4 visited SFH with the purpose of assisting Ol’ Fuzz Face move two cords of firewood from the driveway to the woodshed. A second purpose of their visit was to partake in ample portions of Granny Blondie’s home cooking. Being wise and conscientious grandsons, their very first act upon arriving at SFH was to report to yours truly the SFH Chief of Security. I presented the mandatory security briefing and they, being so impressed by my presentation, volunteered to be deputized as SFH Security Officers. One of their duties was to maintain a detailed and accurate log of events pertaining to SFH security.
Following are excerpts of text and artist’s renditions from their log with amplification and clarification based on my official records along with photos from the ultramodern and extensive SFH security surveillance system:
To: SFH Chief of Security
While we were working, we encountered some unusual and, in some cases, slightly concerning forms of wildlife. The first of these was a snake with a distinct pattern, that we believe to have been a pine snake [Pituophis melanoleucus]. At the time it was discovered however, not knowing what kind of snake it was, there was certainly cause for concern and alarm. [Grandson #4 had picked up a log to place it in the wood cart and was startled when the snake began to move. He dropped the log, and the snake slowly made its way toward the river.]
This concern was increased, when sometime later [the next morning], our grandfather was attacked by another such creature, who had positioned itself atop the doorway of the barn. [I was watching from the porch and saw the snake drop from the top of the door and pass just in front of Fuzzy’s face as it fell to the ground at his feet. Knowing that he was in sight of his grandsons, he uncharacteristically did not scream and made his best attempt to act in a manly fashion. This was utterly hilarious as seen from my vantage point because it was clear to me that he was scared beyond description. – Fuzzy, removed the snake with a shovel, warning his grandsons to be ever on the lookout for more snakes.]
Another critter was later found inside of the woodpile, a coal skink.[Plestiodon anthracinus] It was harmless and scurried up a tree when it was uncovered. [Once again, it was Grandson #4 who found the critter. He has an uncanny knack for finding nuisance critters. In just a short period of time, he surpassed the achievements of some of my permanent security officers.]
Our Grandfather also brought our attention to the skeleton of a zombie raccoon. And while this one had met its fate, there are apparently more in the area. We were fortunate to not run into the wild zombie raccoons while we were trapped in the woodshed by a sudden downpour of rain. [The zombie raccoons in question were suffering from baylisascaris, a genus of roundworms that infects many animals including raccoons. I described the symptoms to the grandsons and advised them to steer clear of these poor infected creatures for reasons of personal safety.]
The level of security inside the SFH, as well as the ECDM [El Camino Del Monte] RV was impressive however, and while the outdoors was chaotic at times, we both more than enjoyed our stay. [I and the entire SFH Security Force accept this compliment, noting that we’re just doing our job with our usual professional dedication to duty.]
Respectfully submitted on Thursday, September 8
It was obvious to me throughout their visit that Grandson’s #2 and #4 are strong young lads with a well-developed work ethic. They respect and honor their grandparents. I look forward to having them return and once more assist me the world-renowned SFH Chief of Security.
Below you will see the disappearance of a woodpile and the filling of a woodshed. The successful completion of the combined effort of grandfather and grandsons was celebrated by a most enthusiastic victory lap around the entire SFH estate.
It is certainly important to note that Granny Blondie provided logistical support to the wood-moving crew. A highlight of the workday was her preparation of a total of 50 Godzilla Tongues (jalapeno poppers) in her new SFH TK air fryer. It was a memorable feast.
The sun rose a little over an hour ago. Here at Serendipity Farmhouse this is our time for prayer and reflection. On this great national holiday, my mind comes naturally to these words.
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”
This year, the meaning of these words has been restored and renewed – at least in part. Here are two shining examples:
As the sun continues to rise, there remains a quiet and peaceful calm. My beautiful Spouse has declared “holiday routine” for the entire SFH staff. For all of us, today will provide a special opportunity to enjoy that third enumerated right which the Declaration states was endowed by our Creator –
“the pursuit of Happiness”
Pierre LeChat has buried himself in a pile of cookbooks looking for new recipes for the soon-to-be-world-famous, recently renovated SFH Test Kitchen. The ever-vigilant Mr. Monte has made his morning security rounds and is taking a well-deserved nap. In a short while, Blondie and I will start preparations for today’s holiday Feast. And that feast, as it is every year on this day, will be festive, filling, and flavorful. Behold! Here is the traditional SFH 4th of July menu.
Although today will be relaxed and restful, the latter part of June and the first few days of July were filled with a multitude of chores related to completion of the SFH TK renovation. There has been organizing, cleaning, ordering a new stove, and preparing for the 2022 preserving and canning season. In fact, the harvest has already begun. So far, we have picked over two pounds of green beans, several jalapeno peppers and tomatoes, and the first pods of okra.
Because our green bean harvest is the largest ever, we have had a chance to freeze the surplus beans (three bags so far). We’ve never done that before, but it turned out to be quite simple. We used freezing advice provided at the National Center for Home Food Preservation website. For green beans, we used the instructions listed here.
The SFH TK renovation, although not complete, is already making life better here. Several years ago, we had to store away our Breville juicer and have not had the opportunity to partake of the wonderful “green juice” we used to make. The art of juicing was introduced to our daily routine by our friends Rob and Carol Hoffman. Now that we have easy access to the juicer, and because many vegetables are available to us from our local CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) farm, we have once again been able to make “green juice” a morning standard.
Neither the Declaration of Independence nor our Creator gives us a right to “Happiness”. Rather we are endowed with the right of “pursuit of Happiness”. Here at SFH, we always try to remember that distinction. Sometimes, things other than “Happiness” come our way. For example, when we came home one day last week, we found that a storm had caused some destruction to our vast SFH gardens and arboreal treasures. Compared to what happened to our neighbors’ house two weeks ago, when a large Maple tree crushed a portion of their roof, the damage we had was entirely insignificant. – –
It’s at times like this, that our “Liberty” and the right to pray when and where we want becomes so important. In other countries, that is not the case. We must remember that the rights we celebrate today were won for us by brave men who were inspired by “divine Providence” to say:
“And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.”
To my 23,417 feline followers, especially my many cat cousins residing in Virginia and Ohio, instinct is a very strong and protective force for us felines. It ensures our survival as a species and guides us through unexpected encounters with the harsh realities of life. In essence, our feline instincts are the basis of our predatorial dominance. In conjunction with our innate cognitive superiority, our instincts have enabled us to interpret human behavior and fashion it to our personal designs. If there is any doubt that my statements are not correct, I offer you my total and uncontested control over Blondie, Ol’ Fuzz Face, and the entire Serendipity Farmhouse establishment as supporting evidence.
Having said all that, I must acknowledge that my two humans demonstrate some traits that are as endearing as they are mysterious. For over a month now, this human couple has been engaging in a set of most unique rituals. All of these quaint activities seem to be centered around something referred to as their “50th”.
The rituals begin early each morning. Fuzzy will kiss Blondie on the forehead and say something sickeningly sweet. Blondie will reply with a smile and something that sounds like a pigeon cooing. Frequently throughout the day, they will hold hands. Sometimes they will even hug each other. They take walks together around the yard. And, when working together in the garden, they thoughtfully help each other, smiling the whole time. – – If this is getting a bit too mushy for you, dear feline friends, just be glad you don’t have to witness it firsthand as I must.
This last week, their unusual activities intensified. The week started off with a two-night RV trip to Shenandoah River State Park. There, I was subjected to uncharacteristically charitable treatment from them. Even when I would wake them with frequent and loud meowing, they would merely get up, feed me, play with me, and hug me as if I were some type of prize possession. During the daytime, they would hold lighthearted conversations and gaze into each others eyes. In the evening, with all the RV lights off, they would view the colorful sunsets and speak of their years together.
Good grief! I tried to sleep through all this, but their romantic chatter kept disturbing my sleep. Wouldn’t it ever stop? A cat has to have his naps to stay fit and alert.
But, during the entire trip and the remainder of the week, it never stopped.
I gathered from all their endless and inane prattle that there was to be some big event this Sunday – today. Apparently, Daughter #2 and the other siblings conspired to organize a celebration honoring the big “50th”. There are to be many guests – family and friends. It is intended to be an event honoring the thing humans call Holy Matrimony and it is in thanksgiving for God’s grace that made it possible.
Even with my golden feline instincts and superior cognitive skills, I don’t claim to understand what this thing called Matrimony is all about. Nevertheless, if it is something that makes Blondie and Fuzz Face happy together, and if it is big enough to include children and even a 21-pound Maine Coon cat, then I’m all for it.
So, along with all the others today, let me simply and sincerely say to Blondie and Fuzzy – “Happy 50th!”
SFH Gardens – By the Numbers
We are currently revising and updating our tables and presentations of statistics for the Official SHF Year 2022. The following links will provide the latest ketchup on what has been planted, harvested, and preserved since our last Journal post: