After a day of teaching followed by an afternoon and evening of violin lessons followed by running upstairs, throwing on an outfit featuring a dress that was making me wonder "is this too tight?", and too late to do anything but leave my hair down, and rushing out the door to get to the North Star Cafe...I received the nicest compliment ever: an explosive "holy smokes!" The utter surprise with which it was said was what really made my day. I told him so. The ladies of TML generally agree that he somehow usually knows how to say the right thing. Holy smokes, indeed.

Year 6/7 of paralysis recovery has been very exciting. Violin-wise, I'm able to get more "finger-y" when I play--I can concentrate on finer finger movements and feel like the rest of my technique is so solid that these little, quick fingers are just flying around on the fingerboard. That is really cool. In the past week I've also been dancing tango a bunch more than usual ("usual" these days, is almost no tango at all...), and I noticed the same phenomenon: my core strength and gross muscle movement is so smooth now that I can let me feet fly and really be aware of exactly where they are. No more tripping over my own feet, not realizing where they were!

My violin and tango technique are now both better than they were pre-paralysis, so it's hard for me to say whether the new awareness of my extremeties is due to repair of my huge brain lesion or not. Are these totally new pathways I'm creating? Are they repair of existing pathways? Are they pathways that always existed but that I couldn't exercise because I was too occupied with building up large muscle groups? Who knows.

I do know that I continue to struggle with a couple of muscle movements: trills and going down stairs. Soon it will be time to work on those. But for now, I'm loving having near-perfect control and awareness of fingers and feet.

Today was the annual Cider Day at the farm of some friends in Scarborough. I've known the M.s since 3rd grade, when I moved to South Portland and entered Mrs. M's 3rd grade class.

After a rainy Saturday night and Sunday morning, the sun came out and we had a beautiful, warm Cider Day. The apples this year! All of the trees around are dripping with them. We didn't shake down all of them, fortunately; that hand-crank press gets kind of tiring after several batches. I had called M. last week and told her to bring her violin, so we had some fun fiddling as everyone was digesting soup and dessert.

Back at home with some super-sweet, fresh-pressed cider, I added salt and whey, covered it with a towel, and am now verrrrrry patiently waiting 3 days to pour it into jars and let it sit in the fridge to mellow. Cider tasting at Thanksgiving, maybe?

I'm not taking new violin students right now. But I just made a spot for one more. Because, when I've known the mother of this little girl for 24 years (ohmigod! I've known her for 24 years! Ack!) and when I've said "maybe you should see if there are any spots open at the Portland Conservatory" and this sweet little one says "but I want Valerie to be my violin teacher! I love her!" Oh, man. Why don't you just reach into my chest like in that Indiana Jones movie and rip my heart out. And she's not even my own child. Whew.

Recent e-mails around "Calling in 'The One'" have been titled "Calling in The One, or The Other, or Not Calling, or Whatever". I'm not the only one who's annoyed by CITO, so there have been discussions about alternatives. I'm still not sure whether I want to spend a couple of hours on Thursday nights sitting around discussing relationships, though all of the women involved are Super Cool. Though this is partly just my introverted self feeling like it needs alone time. Sticking myself into situations where I have to be an extrovert (performing, teaching) is good for me, but not my natural state. But anyway.

In the spirit of improving my relationship health even if I choose not to attend Thursday night meetings, I have been thinking about what kind of a person I would like to date and where I would be likely to find a person like that and how I would do it. Really tough, since I don't seem to have a "type" of person that I date. Initially, the only things I could think of were:

• Likes to learn new things


• Searches for beauty in life


• Can talk to me without looking like a deer in the headlights


• Calm


• Kind


• Not looking for Arm Candy (I can't figure out how to make that into a positive statement that doesn't negate "searches for beauty...")


• Happy with himself

But I don't think that really captures it, though those things are important. Someone can search for beauty and like to learn new things and be able to talk to me and be happy and so forth, but can completely freak me out (or stress me out) for some other reason, as history has shown very explicitly.

Blech. So then I decided that what I really want is someone who makes me feel the way that I do when I play the violin now. Motion and music and breath...it's magic. I want someone who's magic. No problem, right? Um...right?

My boyfriend in college was magic, and you would never guess it from looking at him (even though I always thought he was super cute). He was magic because he'd grown up loving comic books, especially Spiderman, and was convinced that I was some kind of comic book goddess. I didn't even get it until years after we had broken up and I saw the first Spiderman movie and realized what the Spiderman comic was all about. Then I saw what had happened--he had a kind of little boy attitude of wonder that made him magic, and (though I totally do not remember it happening this way, he insisted it did) one day I arrived, pointed my finger at him, said, "YOU", and he said "OK". And he became Spiderman because I thought he was. I was magic for him too.

Just to be clear, he really was Spiderman in the body of a computer science superboy. I was totally right. Was I a comic book heroine? Hard to say there. He had to put up with a lot of crap from me, but then again, I thought he was Spiderman, so...

Problem is, knowing all of this doesn't help me find a magic person. I think they must exist here and there, but at the moment I can't think of how to meet one. Hrmph.

Turboglacier had to put his cat to sleep this weekend. After I sobbed through that post, I thought about how much I still miss cats and dogs and people who have died. I really did think of them in that order, and that made me feel guilty. But I still feel like people who are dead are still with me, not so much pets though. That surprised me.

Today as I was doing some writing at school I was thinking that different kinds of grief make me feel different physically. As I wrote, I was trying to figure out exactly how each kind of grief felt, until I was a little bit of a mess and decided maybe I would continue the experiment when I wasn't surrounded by my students. Here are the ones I found:

Losing a loved pet or person, or feeling for someone else who has lost a loved pet or person, makes me feel like the contents of my chest want to come out of my mouth. Not a vomiting feeling, but just like I'm turning inside out. I get the same feeling when breaking up with someone I love whom I know I've hurt badly.

Breaking up with someone I love or like a lot because it just won't work makes me feel like my gut is twisting with the knowledge of failure and of war between reason and sentiment.

Being broken up with makes me feel like a heavy stone is sitting in my stomach.

Losing my body makes me feel a kind of despair that's striking in its starkness: I feel absolutely empty inside. No twisting pains, no violent upheavals or sobbing, no pit-of-stomach heaviness. Just an utterly vast feeling of being deserted and there being nothing to do, nothing more of myself anymore. If I cry when I'm feeling this kind of grief, there's no sound.

I thought it was interesting because I've always thought of sadness as one kind of emotion, but thinking about the physical nature of it made me realize how many different kinds of grief there are.

Today I had a flashback to senior year of high school, when Mr. P., the French teacher, told my class that we weren't allowed to use the word "quelque chose" anymore because we used it all. the. time. I think we were driving him nuts. :-)

Ms. Green: "OK, so if the 'convert' method needs to know all of those variables that you got from the user in the 'run' method, how is it going to get them?"

Pouty Student (huffily): "I don't know! <pause> You know, with those things.

MG: "What things?"

PS: Those things that come after the...other thing!

MG: Ummm....that's a lot of things. What are those things, anyway?

(I couldn't help it, I started to giggle here and so did the PS)

PS: They're inside the...things. (now we are both giggling)

PS: I'm supposed to know these words, aren't I?

MG: Yup.

PS: 'Parameters'.

MG: Bingo. Parameters in the parentheses.

Sherry posted a poem that made me realize that I am married. To three people. I was already thinking that even before reading her post, as I drove home from TML rehearsal last night. Most of rehearsal was taken up with a long business discussion/argument. I was thinking, as I drove home, that we argue, get sick, get snippy and annoyed and crabby and defensive...and yet, we are all sticking together because, well, because we're TML and because we love each other. I've been in a lot of musical groups and it's rare to find a group who just loves each other this much.

Why I clicked on the e-mail with the subject "We will help you get laid cm5": because of the "cm5"! Of course! And darn it, the e-mail said nothing about what the cm5 was for. Is it a marker so that the spammers can track who sent what e-mail? Is it a quality control number? ("this spam inspected by cm5") Is it a bunch of numbers to just make me think this is a new, improved way of helping me get laid, like on the end of a motorcycle model name? Or is "cm5" some kind of term like "1337" that means I am getting old? Hrmph.

Last night I got home late after spending most of the day playing a wedding down in Kennebunkport and thought "at least I don't have anything to do tomorrow...oh CRAP" as I remembered that I had agreed to sing at the New Song Service at First Lutheran. I haven't been to church in more than a year now, but the choir director was desperate for someone to carry the sopranos and I said OK.

It's been a big relief not to be in church, actually. When I'm in church I'm constantly worrying that I'm accidentally going to take the name of the lord (oops, Lord) in vain or say something about karma, etc. When I was in choir and went to the choir parties, there were always a lot of jokes about "heathens". Yessah. Adding to that my general distraction/fascination with when to stand up, sit down, say certain things...church ends up being a place where I feel the least spiritual of all. Too many distractions. And I'm sure that dancing tango counts as a sin, especially to Lutherans.

So this morning I got up, showered, accidentally ate only half of my breakfast, and put myself into something suitably ultra-conservative. Then, off for a brisk walk to church armed with the music (which I hadn't had a chance to look at) and my Nissan thermos. I was thinking, "this doesn't really feel like me."

But then I got there and caught up with all of the New Song folks and crammed the songs into my brain and warmed up the ol' vocal chords, and survived the very cute and bumbly and effusive greeting from the pastor, and really had a nice time. The new-age Christian pop used to bother me, but I decided that I prefer the New Song service because at least it's mostly singing and only a little talking. There's nothing like a large amount of oxygen going to my brain to make me think that I like church! Woo!

The pastor was all over the place with the sermon today, so as I was kind of idly listening to it I was thinking that when I'd been to church in the past, I was always trying to translate what was being said about Jesus into something that I could relate to, and that was a bunch of brain exercise. Today I felt more like all (or most) of the people in the church have a different set of words to describe things that I call "magic" or "connection" or other things I never even put words to, but that it was OK, because when I sing or play the violin in church, it's a language that everyone can understand. Maybe I'll come back once a month and do the New Song service. And not worry so much that I'm one of those heathens.

This year, in addition to writing in class, we're doing drawing exercises from Betty Edwards's Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain. The first 2 chapters are about experiencing the feeling of shifting from using the left side of the brain to using the right side. We've been copying drawings with them turned upside down to encourage us not to think of what our drawing "should" look like, but just looking at it as lines and shapes that fit together like a puzzle. Some kids are really getting into it.

It's very hard, almost impossible, for me to shift into the right brain when I'm in school, because I have to be in the left brain for classroom management. A couple of times I've been able to do it and to stay in it for maybe 15 seconds, and then a student walks in late or someone calls or asks to use the restroom or I notice that 2 kids are surfing the Web instead of drawing. Argh.

Today at lunch I was reading the end of the chapter (emphasis as found in the book): "feeling alert, but relaxed -- confident, interested, absorbed in the drawing and clear in your mind...I feel at one with the work...It's not exactly happiness; it's more like bliss. I think it's what keeps me coming back and back to painting and drawing."

I think that's part of what I mean when I'm talking about "magic". When I'm totally in the right side of the brain playing violin, it's a huge rush.

"...shifting to R-mode releases you for a time from the verbal, symbolic domination of the L-mode, and that's a welcome relief. The please may come from resting the left hemisphere, stopping its chatter, keeping it quiet for a change."

It reminds me of a book I read on ADHD. The book was full of tips from ADHD people about how to handle their ADHD. One woman said that she was fine as long as she did art daily. I'm personally much more sane when I'm playing the violin daily. So now I'm thinking, wow, I started doing these drawing/seeing exercises so that my students would get an "eye" for design. But maybe the benefit a lot of these (hyperactive) kids will get is the ability to shut off their left brain at will.

Howevah, at the moment, I'd like to shutboth sides of my brain off. Very, very tired after a TML gig night. Plus some dancing afterwards. And then grocery shopping. Now I'm wired and tired.

Finding a Magic Person would be lovely, but the thought of waiting to find a person like that? Not lovely. Instead, I've been thinking about how to make my life magical every day, other magical person or no. After church on Sunday I decided that my mind has felt kind of cluttered lately and that I'm holding too many stupid things in it, so I decided to unclutter it--starting with the basics: cleaning house. And dejunking. Out with clothes I never wear! Summer clothes boxed and put away! Summer camping gear stowed! Laundry sorted, papers filed, kitchen table clear for the first time in months. I didn't get to the boxes of fabric because just getting my whole apartment in order, including the disaster in the bedroom, required 4 hours (with Nightwish on my iPod for encouragement). And then I was exhausted, with just enough energy left to vaccuum and mop up to be ready to teach Monday lessons and to write a post on visualization.

I couldn't sleep last night. I had moved the bed (only 2 feet to the side!), and everything felt different. Sigh. I ate applesauce, I wrote in my journal, I tried lots of things, but no sleeping. Bonita, on the other hand, was uncharacteristically quiet and snuggly so at least one of us was comfortable. This morning I ate breakfast on my newly-cleared kitchen table for the first time in a long time. When I'm by myself I usually eat standing up or sitting on the couch, which until this moment seemed totally fine and logical. It did feel a little lonely eating at the table, actually. I'm not used to it. But it's way easier to eat at the table with a cat on my lap than to eat on the couch with a cat and a plate or whatever vying for space.

New goals:

• get enough sleep (oops...sigh)
• eat at kitchen table whenever possible

All high school teachers in Maine were issued new MacBooks this year. What I did with mine tonight:

1. realized that my 7:00 student needs a version of "Go Tell Aunt Rhody" that is slower than on the Suzuki CD and breaks the measures up one by one so that he can train his aural memory in smaller chunks.
2. after he left (my last lesson of the night), opened up GarageBand, recorded myself playing each measure with silence between the measures, converted it to MP3, and e-mailed it to his mom.

The whole thing took less than 10 minutes. I heart my MacBook!

Not only have I eaten at the table for the past 2 days, but I have eaten oatmeal out of a bowl instead of the pot I cooked it in. Yowza!

Today my classes were very small due to PSATs, so I tried an experiment: I taught all of the students present how to do the Magic Forehead. ("Ms. Green, I think you just melted my brain.") Then we drew something. Some students said they were more relaxed. I'm wondering whether the Forehead is a right-brain thing or just a relaxation technique. Not sure.

One thing I've noticed as we've been doing upside-down drawing in class is that my visual memory isn't great. I'll look at a shape and then try to draw it and often get the proportions or curve wrong. What I tried doing yesterday was looking at the shape I was trying to draw and visualizing what motion my hand/arm would make if I were drawing the shape. It did help some. I still think I need a lot of practice to improve my visual memory, though.

This week I've been thinking about how to teach kids to be resilient -- ideally without "teaching" them to be resilient. Much better if they just happen to learn it from me, I think. Also, as we continue to try to squelch our left brains and open up our right brains doing drawing exercises, I've been thinking about attention to detail and really looking at things and how it affects the way I think about things. Trying to picture what it would feel like to draw something does affect the way I end up drawing it. And showing violin students exactly how to visualize and feel their fingers this week, and then play? They improved so much that some of them were suspicious. That can't work, right? But it does.

Drawing things and trying to pay attention to every little detail (I'm not that good at it yet) and then picturing what it would feel like to draw it made me wonder whether I could do the reverse during Thursday afternoon tango practice with P: could I visualize the line of my body as I danced? Ye-e-e-sss, but it was wicked difficult. :-P Could I focus on what it sounded like as we danced? Yes, and also what C & L's two huge cats sounded like upstairs as they chased each other around the kitchen ("romance de barrio tu amor"--clunkaclunkaclunkaclunka--)

Paying attention to visual detail and helping violin students pay attention to kinesthetic detail made me really enjoy the connections that I was making with different parts of my life, and I thought 'wow, if I'm trying to teach kids to be more creative, then these drawing exercises and writing exercises and maybe...listening exercises? dance exercises? could get the connections going.' Then I thought about resilience and how part of being resilient is being able to look at a crappy situation carefully and see a kernel of good in it, something that you maybe didn't notice before when you first looked.

How to take all of these ideas and make them into some way to show kids how to be creative and resilient? Not sure yet, but the seeds of thought are starting. And I'm becoming more convinced that creativity and resilience are part of the same thing.

A beautiful thing happened on Friday: I looked at my calendar and saw that I had nothing to do this weekend. So this morning I finished eating my oatmeal while patting the very attentive black Lab sitting next to me as the 9:30 ferry took me to Peaks Island. I hadn't been to Peaks since I was about 10 years old (some Girl Scout troop thing) and, surprisingly, the island weddings I've played have all been on the Diamond islands, not Peaks. This warm, sunny, perfect day was a beautiful day for an island excursion.

I had kind of a sketchy map, but figured "how lost can I get on an island?" so when I saw a sign at the side of the road marked "TRAIL", I took it. Somewhere along the trail (which eventually ended near the steel bunker) I stopped to sit and do some drawing. Today I tried pretending that I was tracing the outlines of the things I was drawing--that instead of my pencil being on paper, it was actually right where I was looking, tracing the edge of the object. That was a really weird sensation, but I think it got me closer to the feeling I want when I'm drawing. I'm really, really slow at it, but that seems right. I'm very slow at most things in the beginning, but if I very carefully allow myself to keep going slowly, one day I'm just magically fast.

After I finished drawing, everything on my walk looked more detailed and more interesting. I think that's the key to finding magic for me: realizing that I never know everything about anything, that there's always something I haven't noticed and how exciting that is.

I got lost a lot today (still need to check a real map to figure out where the heck I was), mostly because I veered off into the woods every time something looked interesting. The end of my walk, along Pleasant and Island Avenues, was the least fun; there were so many houses that I felt funny about cutting across people's lawns and so kept to the road.

There were some ridiculously large houses (mostly along the outside of the island, near the ocean) but there were some really charming cottages too. Back at home, I opened up the plans of cottages from Tumbleweed Houses and thought again about downsizing. Well, I got into the spirit of it, anyway, and removed at least 15 books from my bookshelf to donate. Flushed with the success of dejunking, I headed outside to take down the supports from this year's crop of peas and then sawed off 4 9-foot lengths of tubing for my hoop houses. It took about 15 minutes. The tubing has only been in my garage for what, 2 months? Argh.

Next weekend I see that I, again, have nothing scheduled. This could become addictive.

P. asked: hey, if I plow your driveway all winter, would it be OK if I stored my plow at the back of your driveway? LetMeThinkAboutThatYesThatWouldBeFine.

On TML rehearsal nights we usually meet at Liz's apartment because she doesn't have a car and does have a double bass. She cooks us dinner. Tonight as we hung out before dinner/rehearsal and tried to figure out what building a Tumbleweed house on a trailer bed and parking it in your yard and living in it would qualify as, zoning-wise, in the Planning Department's eyes (mobile home? Boat?), I was thinking that Liz is under a lot of pressure and being leaned on from several directions right now, and maybe she could use some home cooking, and volunteered to take charge of Wednesday dinners for the next little while. She happily agreed, and would be even more excited if I would cook things that are "sort of macrobiotic".

Recently I've been doing better getting myself fed for most days of the week. Maybe knowing that I have to do it for 3 other people every Wednesday will get me more organized in the cooking department? Though my "macrobiotic" cooking will definitely be more in the "sort of" macrobiotic category. Maybe I'll just make sure we all chew everything a wicked lot? Probably a good idea anyway.

I experiment with different kinds of homemade sushi, but I keep coming back to this one. I don't remember what made me combine these--probably just the fact that I had them both on hand. These magically disappear at parties: there you'll be, just about to reach over and pick up a few pieces of this sushi when someone will swoosh in, from nowhere, fully italicized, and captivate you with some amazing conversation. Then you look for the sushi you were about to take, and --fffffft! it has disappeared. Really. Someone apologized to me once at a party, "sorry, excuse me, I just have to have another piece of this sushi."

Today was the first day that we did "modified contour drawings", and thus the first day that we were allowed to occasionally look at the paper to check positioning, angle and length of lines, etc. I feel better and more focused when I'm drawing now, but my drawings are worse, because my pencil is almost never going in the direction I think it's going in. It's very weird.

Before, when I tried to draw things, I would constantly be looking back and forth between then thing I was trying to draw and my paper, assessing shape and angle and whatever. Now I'm supposed to be spending 90% of my time looking at the thing I'm drawing while my pencil traces contour lines on the paper, and occasionally (I suppose that would be 10%...) checking to make sure I'm still on track. I'm almost never on track. It's very frustrating. And I'm almost never concentrating because of constant classroom distractions. In all of the instructions it says "allow at least 30 minutes of uninterrupted drawing time for this exercise." HA! If I can get my students to sit for more than 5 minutes, it's a good day.

No matter how much I currently suck at it, though, I do think this is the right way for me to draw, because I feel good doing it. I took a similar leap of faith when I started relearning the violin, and so far that's turned out OK.

Finally! Today I had an afternoon off, so I decided to tackle my nearly-complete hoop house project. I strapped the pipe to the frames, screwed in the wood strapping pieces on top of the pipe, and walked over to the Farmers' Union to see what kind of plastic they had. I probably would have finished tonight, but ended up talking to my next door neighbor for a while. I'm so close, though! The icky part will be shoveling mulch into my parents' trailer and then into the boxes.

These houses are a modification of the hoop houses that have been going in around town as the Portland Permaculture Meetup folks hold work parties. I made my boxes in 2 sections out of whatever wood I had left over from various summer house projects. I can't wait to try these out this winter!

I have a violin student who came to me looking like a disaster. He's improved dramatically since he started coming for lessons, but still wasn't as consistent as I needed him to be, technique-wise. So last week we did some kinesthetic visualization ("feel your fingers before you play") and the improvement was marvelous. That was his work for this week.

Today he came in looking like a professional violinist. And proceeded to play double stops like nobody's business. As I watched him play I was struck (yet again) with how amazingly cool it is to watch this transformation. I am very, very lucky.

I made this mask last year for our gig at MENSK's "Brush with Love" event. The gig ended up getting snowed out, so I didn't get to wear the mask until tonight, when I pulled it out to complete a last-minute Superwoman costume.

Here's how to make your own easy, glittery, original Halloween mask:

Materials:

glue gun
transparent nonstick pad (available in craft stores or online)
glitter glue

Procedure:

1. On a piece of paper, draw the mask you want to make. If you wear glasses, they make a great template so that the eyeholes will be comfy. Make sure all/most of your lines connect in a way that will make your mask hang together as one piece. Leave a place to attach elastic.

2. Lay the non-stick pad on top of your drawing.

3. Heat a glitter glue stick in the glue gun.

4. Trace the outlines in your mask design onto the nonstick pad with the glue gun.

5. Let cool, then peel your new mask off the pad. Whee!

Today I got out the apple peeler/corer/slicer thingy and made some apple upside-down cakes. Two 8" cakes this time instead of one big one. One I took over to Liz's today to eat during our sewing date and the other I was going to bring to my sister-in-law until I remembered that I'd put butter in it, and she's off all wheat and dairy right now. That's OK--it was nice to come home from a party and wind down with some apple cake. It's still not exactly the way I want it, but close.

It's hard for me to line up the apple on the apple peeler/corer/slicer so that it takes the core out straight. Sometimes I get the side of the core left in the slices, and it's tough. I have to cut it out with a paring knife. I wonder if smaller apples also have smaller cores and so would work better? I can't believe I never noticed.

Other current apple dilemma: what kind of apple tree to plant in the yard this year? The Fedco catalog always makes me want to hang city life and go plant a whole orchard of different varieties, but I have managed to narrow it down to 3 choices: Black Oxford, Canadian Strawberry, or Esopus Spitzenburg. I confess that a large part of the attraction of the Esopus Spitzenburg is the name of it. Come on! It's an Esopus Spitzenburg! How could I not want one of those in my yard? But one of the others may yet beat it out.

"I didn't realize that tango was so steamy!" Sherry remarked a while back, after seeing me dance with P. I suppose it is. Part of the attraction of tango is the embrace, for sure. But even though dancing tango in close embrace and being perfectly in sync with someone can make me feel like I'm both flying and grounded in my partner, it's very rare that I will completely unleash sensual energy on my partner when we're dancing. This is due to one or more of the following:

• most people don't dance with that kind of intensity


• most people are worrying about feet or navigation and not connection


• I'm saving my energy for when TML has to perform (these days)


• my partner is a Sketchy Guy and/or just gives me the creeps


• my partner's girlfriend or boyfriend is watching jealously


• my partner is a former lover and I don't want to go there

So most of the time I just get out there and laugh a lot and have fun. And abide by my usual rule: dancing is not real life (which translates into: a dance interest is not a romantic interest unless I'm already interested for some other reason). But it would be fun to dance with full intensity sometime. I'll look for my chance.

My trusty Cuisinart Convection/Toaster Oven has crashed. Arrrrrrrgh. I use my big oven very rarely, but I used the little Cuisinart all the time. It's at times like this that I think "why didn't I major in Electrical Engineering instead of Computer Science?"

It's also at times like this that I think "why the heck is it even possible to crash a toaster oven?"