The tea kettle whistles
bacon sizzles and spits
potatoes boil over and hiss
soup bubbles in a whisper
The bread smells done
coffee beckons and I obey
Butter is browning and
hurry up it smells burnt
Oven calls out ‘I’m hot’
Kitchen timer jangles
Mom or a sister joins in to
remind me to stir the soup
From great distance to my
kitchen, family memories sit
on my counter, rest in a tea cup,
as though we never left home.
“The kitchen is a sacred space.”
~ Marc Forgione, chef
Too Big and Just Enough
“You can have a cookie, mom ~ just not Rusty right now.” Annabelle couldn’t believe she said that! Rusty really was her best friend. It had been really hard to act like they didn’t like each other. They both loved Christmas and that was the only thing that made it almost easy. She had told Abby all about the card that they were making for their parents and how they had to play like they were mad at each other. Talking to her favourite teddy bear, Annabelle sighed. “I miss my brother.”
Rusty wasn’t far away. Just outside her bedroom door he heard her talking to herself about that morning. He had known that she was just playacting. Then when he got the box of cookies, he knew they were still best friends. “I miss you too, but maybe we should stop pretending anymore. Mom and dad are worried about us. We can finish the card up here in my room. I’ve cleaned my desk off.” He hesitated. “Or we can finish it in your room. I don’t really mind all your stuffed animals. Except that really weird one that looks like it’s staring at me.”
~~~~~
Rusty had painted the Christmas tree he wanted, but he still wanted to get the girl and boy put on it. Annabelle had written “Mom and Dad you are the best parents in the world. We love you.” She couldn’t think of anything else to write. They decided that their big ideas were too big for them. At least that’s what they thought. And they didn’t want to act like they weren’t friends anymore. So, Annabelle put the offending stuffed animal in her closet, and the best friends got to work on their Christmas project.
“Being a twin is like being born with a best friend.”
~ Tricia Marrapodi
1968 ~ 2008
Everyone had been told the cookies were Christmas presents. Annabelle really hated it when her brother didn’t pay attention to her. He was a really good brother at school, but at home it was like he couldn’t stand her. Twins, they would be 10 years old on Christmas Day. When they were really little, they always had fun together. Annabelle didn’t remember it, but they had shared a crib when they were babies. Then they shared a room with separate beds, but the year before they had to start school, Rusty got his own room. Ever since then, he’d been bossy. A sign on his door said: Girls Keep Out (except mom). Annabelle couldn’t tell anyone, but she missed her good brother at home. At school, she wished he wasn’t so protective of her. She sighed. “I guess he just has to do more growing up.”
“Hey, Annabelle. Are we still decorating the Christmas tree tonight? I came home early so we could get the decorations out.”
“Rusty?! You’re home! I didn’t think you’d want to do the decorating.”Annabelle had been certain it would just be her mom and herself. She was so happy. The twins went down to the basement to get all the decorations. Their mom or their dad would help them get out all the Christmas things when they were little. When they were big enough, they were allowed to get the big box by themselves. Now, their parents did more supervising than doing any of the work ~ just what the twins wanted. They both loved Christmas carols, Christmas dinner, opening presents but decorating the tree was an extra special start to the season.
“Christmas works like glue, it keeps us all sticking together.”
~ Rosie Thomas, Iris & Ruby
An Evening at the Artesian
It was fun! Just a walk down the street to the Artesian, a venue hosting a Globe Theatre Production of Making Spirits Bright. It was so much fun!! Based on the old CBC radio dramas many of us attending listened to, five actors played multiple roles. The stage was set with microphones for each actor, head gear to show a change from a human to an animal, a shiny black crow, disappearing clothes lines and some that I’ve missed! Opening with a First Nations story about a wiley wolf and an inept hunter, we were introduced with laughter to the land we live on. The stories that were presented: Coyote’s New Suit by Thomas King; Frankincents an’ Meer by W.O. Mitchell; The Night before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore; and the Mitten, A Ukrainian Folk Tale, tickled my funny bone and the actors were impressive. They switched from human to animal, adults to children as each story dictated. All accompanied by the appropriate sound effects and props! That’s not all: rather than reading out a boring litany of sponsors, they were honoured with singing accolades! At the end the cast had all of us singing Auld Lang Syne. Did I mention it was so much fun!!
“As a young actor, I would be invited to the CBC Radio
drama department to do voices for different characters,
and I found that I could do quite a few of them.”
~ Peter Cullen, Canadian Actor
Director:
Jennifer Brewin
Actors:
Skyler Anderson
Kris Alvarez
Sarah Bergbusch
Sierra Haynes
Leon Willey
~~~~~
Cookies for Breakfast
“Cookies for breakfast, yay!?” As soon as Rusty opened his eyes he knew what was in store for him. His sister Annabelle had baked cookies the night before and he could still smell them. He didn’t usually leap out of bed, that changed as soon as he could almost taste the sweet, crumble of the sugar cookies. If he was quiet enough, he could get down to the kitchen and help himself before his sister was up. Stuffing his feet into his slippers, he shuffled to his bedroom door and opened it carefully. “Don’t squeak! Don’t squeak!” He let his breath go, he had managed to open the door. He practiced that move all the time. Then his shoulders fell. “Coffee…..Mom and Dad are already up. They’ll be in the kitchen. It’s impossible now!” He backed into his room. “I might as well get dressed and figure something else out.” Screwing up his face in thought he paced. "Aha! Cool. That's what I need and I'll wait til my dumb sister is in the kitchen."
“No cry because cookie is finished. Smile because cookie happened.”
~ Cookie Monster, The Joy of Cookies: Cookie Monster’s Guide to Life
Thinking it Over
“Martha, did you bring the mail in?” James Digby was home for supper. “Yes, dear. There’s a letter here from Thom. And the hydro bill. Nothing much else except some flyers.” James could hear Martha’s careful setting of the table. The plates had to be just so, the cutlery lined up properly. She had learned her table setting craft for the Estate and insisted it continue in their home. James didn’t mind at all. He preferred precise. “I’ll be right there, supper smells awfully good.” Martha laughed. “Well, it should. It’s a gift from Elizabeth. One of her lamb stews that she had set aside for us - the rest are in the big freezer. All I had to do was heat it up. She sent some scones too so we’ll eat well tonight.”
James barely heard her, he had opened his brother’s letter. Since their visit the previous year, he and Thom had been corresponding regularly. “We may be having company again this winter. Thom and Sonja are planning a trip to the Island to get away from the snows. Says it’s not too bad right now so they don’t know exactly when they want to come.” He folded the letter and put it away. “Now what’s this about Elizabeth’s stew?” His wife was already sitting at the table, patiently waiting for her husband. He kissed the top of her head as he passed. “You didn’t hear me? Doesn’t matter, I’m just glad you’re home.” She served them both a good portion of stew and passed him the basket of warm scones. “Wonderful that they’re coming again this year! Did he have anything else to say?”
“That is a delicious stew, Martha! Sorry I couldn’t answer you right away.” Buttering a scone and taking a second helping of the stew, he went on. “In my last letter, I told him of the developments Miss Emelina is making. Getting more active in the garden and orchard. ….and the apiary. I let him know my concerns about how she would manage. She’s always been so gentile in her life.” His wife frowned. “Now, James, really. I completely disagree. She’s much stronger than you and Samuel think. And apparently, Dr. Jeremy too.” She got up to make their tea. “You men. Take a look around you. How many women work and have worked on this place….and hard work too. Certainly we’re not outdoors like Samuel. And you’re an insider yourself.” She set the teapot down with a thump. James knew he had crossed a line with his wife. He should know better than to even suggest that any woman was weak. “Here, let me pour the tea and you know I wasn’t demeaning Miss Emelina. I just worry about her.” Her face still a mask, she said “Well you needn’t worry about her. After all she’s a grown woman who finally knows her own mind. That pandemic was horrible for many, many people, but for Miss Em it was a God send.” James started clearing the table. “Thom reminded me of all you women and the work that gets done when the rest of us aren’t looking.” He saw the pie on the counter. Time to change the subject. “Peach pie, Martha!?” He took dessert plates down and cut generous slices of pie. Topped them both with ice cream and took them to the table. “Smile, dear. Let’s have a nice evening.”
~~~~~
“Dez. Can I ask you something?” The two sisters were in the upstairs living room after supper. “Of course you can! What is it?” Emelina had been quiet throughout supper, often staring out the window. “Well, I’m not sure. Have you heard anything from Jeremy? I know it’s only been a couple of days, and he does text me every night to say good night, but……I don’t know. Was I wrong to walk out on him? And why do I get strange looks from people when I tell them I’m going to be involved with the outdoor work? And why are you grinning at me like a cheshire cat?” Dez had been happy that her big sister was taking the situation seriously. There had been a time when she would have wanted…..no expected….. someone else to take care of it. Blamed Digby or Martha or anyone she could find. This sister was the girl she had grown up with, always with her finger in every school activity. Running them, participating in them, getting others interested in participating. “Em, you’re back to who you used to be. No I don’t think you were wrong to walk out on Jeremy. That’s what you would have done when we were growing up. Didn’t take anything from anyone. Even if you did have your nose in the air most of the time.” She hit the mute button on the TV. “The strange looks? I think that’s only because you have been a ‘helpless female’ for a long time. I know you’ve never been helpless, but you’ve never had a problem getting others to do your work for you. You’d been doing that so long, that no one knew you could do anything else.” Emelina leaned her head back on the sofa and laughed.
Then sat up. “Really. You don’t have to be so mean……but I guess you’re right. Jeremy was being a jerk and had been for too long. And no one ever suspected that I could do anything outside but walk the track.” Dez sat forward. “Remember that first night of the pandemic when you had to come to pick me up?” Em nodded. “Yes! I was terrified at first because I was all alone, but when that police officer called and asked me to come get you I didn’t even think about me. I just knew I had to find the car keys and get to town. Bring you home. Didn’t matter that we’d been mad at each other for years.” Relaxed, she smiled and picked up her phone. “Thanks Dez. It’s time to call Jeremy.”
“We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place,
we stay there, even though we go away. And there are
things in us that we can find again only by going back there.”
~ Pascal Mercier, Night Train to Lisbon
What to Do
Phil was full of himself. At least that’s what his sister told him. This particular morning, standing in front of his mirror, face half shaved, he wondered if she wasn’t correct. He looked at his razor. It was special. It had to be a certain brand, for a certain facial type and his shaving cream purchased at a beauty parlour where he had his hair cut every two weeks. Since a teenager, he didn’t see anything wrong with that. As far as he was concerned his sister didn’t pay enough attention to herself. His clothes were always spotless, much to the chagrin of his mother. He was finally told to wash all his clothes himself. “You want me to look presentable don’t you mother?” “My dear, you always look like you’re about to go to some high level meeting or out on a date with that lovely girl from school.” After high school, it didn’t change. Except that he had to get a job. All he could get was a construction job while he started online University. He could barely tolerate his co-workers wearing the same unkempt clothes everyday. He did learn that he loved the outside work. The very thought of wearing a suit and tie everyday went against his new found preference. Being cooped up in a office, no matter how great the pay or prestige was, just did not sit well with him. Phil was stuck. He was not going to be a landscaper who got dirt under his fingernails. He wasn’t that interested in plants, or grass or crops of any kind. His university classes had all been directed at Law. It was interesting, but just hadn’t gripped him the way he thought it would. Journalism? He would have to work a lot of menial reporting jobs - society functions, dog shows, fairs. All very boring. There was no assurance that he’d land a plum anchor job at a TV station. Interviewing high level politicians didn’t happen if you hadn’t done the work to get there. He finished shaving, making sure to clean his face of every bit of shaving cream. He changed his blade, put everything away in his shaving case, wiped up the bathroom, leaving it as pristine as it had been.
The door bell rang. He heard his mother answer the door, greet whomever was there, close the door. Then “Phillip! There’s mail for you. A small package from your sister.” He sighed. “Put it on the hall table. I’ll open it after breakfast.” Under his breath he muttered. “I wondered what oddball thing she’s sent me this time.” The time before it had been a brilliant fuschia scarf. He had folded it up and stuck in the the back of a bottom drawer. As he closed the drawer, he could hear her cheerful voice all the way across the country. “Lighten up Phillie!” A fuschia scarf wouldn’t help him decide what to do with his life. He’d send her a thank you email anyway. Dressed in clean, pressed khaki pants and shirt, he went down to breakfast. He needed to have a good paycheque to get where he wanted to go, wherever that was. However, his father had always told him “A paycheque isn’t worth much if you don’t enjoy your job, Phil.”
“It’s not about earning a paycheck, it’s about doing
something good that you believe in.”
~ Adam Kinzinger
when my face feels frozen from
weather or mood ~ nothing better
to thaw me out than
a child’s laugh and hug,
a good visit with a sister,
or a sunny flower garden.
“The earth laughs in flowers.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
 |
| Royal Saskatchewan Museum Wascana Park  |
Clouds rolled across the sky
spattering heavy raindrops
drenching city streets and parks
‘til grey clouds rolled past
opening onto the blue
in time for an afternoon walk
to a visit with my sister in the park, sitting on a dry table top ~ only minutes before clouds
rolled in to spit tiny drops at us
daring us to run, but we strolled
to her car and let the rain drop.
“Into each life
some rain must fall.”
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Circles of Family and Friends
Tonight, I’m taking this opportunity to just review the last two years since the first episode on March 25, 2020. As the Storyteller of Situationally Theirs, I should know what each of the residents and participants of the Beaufort Estate story think of when not being showcased. But I don’t. They each must have lives outside of their little worlds. Mustn’t they? How do they seem to remain calm while the rest of the world is whirling about?
That’s not quite true. In over two years, they have had their struggles. Desperanza Eliot, or Dez as she prefers, started this story with a bank robbery! Not a real one, just one of opportunity that turned out to be quite unsuccessful. In short, her first experience was at the beginning of the Covid 19 pandemic, when she was covered with Lysol and taken to the police. From there, the next character was Emelina Beaufort, who turned out to be Dez's sister. Widowed and grief stricken, she was the sole owner of an estate outside of city of Hartley where Dez lived. That same evening, Emelina was left alone for the first time in four years. A call from police to come and get her sister, roused her in the middle of the night. The sisters had not seen or heard from each other for about 10 years. This is where the story began.
Set on Vancouver Island, the beautiful Beaufort Estate and it's residents seems to have no purpose other than to provide a living for Emelina Beaufort’s staff: James Digby, butler; Martha Haverstock, housekeeper, Elizabeth Saunders, Cook and Samuel Forrester, groundsman. There was a time when the Estate was apparently filled with busy comings and goings. That time had passed and Emelina’s grief kept her from being aware of her responsibilities. For the first fourteen episodes, as they told me their stories, Dez and Emelina were getting to know each other again, living in the kitchen of the Estate, taking care of each other and following pandemic recommendations.
I could go on. Dez returned to her apartment and kept taking this job and that job. Emelina grew into her role as an employer. James and Martha finally declared their love for each other after working together for over twenty five years and were married. Cook - that’s Elizabeth Saunders - just keeps on cooking and taking care of people with her good food. Oh, and she has a good friend, a very good friend, in Samuel Forrester. Samuel does keep to himself and would rather be on the land than in any house. Has what he calls a ‘shack’ at the edges of the Estate. Everyone does have their own home which allows them to come and go on each work day.
There have been many other people who have come and gone throughout the last two years and will continue living their lives outside the story. Martha’s daughter and grandchildren, Cook’s letters to her sister Lily in England, most recently James reunion with his brother Thom and his partner Sonja; Samuel adopting a lost dog, naming him Brewster. There was Brigitte Smithson, originally Emelina’s maid who left for university. Giles Thornton, the Estate's chauffeur, married and with children, who lives off the estate. Even a little ghost named Sarah has made several appearances. Tanya, a teenager and babysitter. Tucker, another teenager who did odd jobs for the estate. (The little ghost girl fell in love with him.) Dr. Jeremy Crawford, who marries Emelina, is a doctor in the city hospital.
Although, Situationally Theirs is about Dez and Emelina, it is also about the circle of friends and family around them. Not that different from many people, just living the best way we can in the the world of the Pandemic which goes on and on with each wave.
“The purpose of our lives is to be happy.”
~ Dalai Lama
Oh, What a Web
Martha and James Digby were walking home from work. “James, I hardly know what to do anymore. I’m the Housekeeper for this big old place and I barely know what to do anymore. Remember when Mr. Michael was alive and Miss Emelina was the belle of the ball? Always busy and we never knew when she would phone me at 4:30 in the afternoon to tell me she needed a dinner party for six by 7 p.m. Brigitte would just have gone home and I’d have to call her back to clean the dining room - even if she had cleaned it the day before. Elizabeth always had a dinner menu in her apron pocket that she could whip up in no time. A dessert in the freezer that she would have thawed and decorated quick as anything. You would be getting out your butler outfit - oh, you always looked so handsome. I could hardly take my eyes off you - but I did, so I could get the silver, china and linens set.” Martha sighed. Arm in arm with James, she leaned her head on his shoulder a tear in her eye.
James was quiet. Should tell her he had seen Miss Emelina earlier that day with some personnel files just before she rushed upstairs? “Oh, James, I’ve taken some personnel files. Just so you don’t miss them. I’ll put them back when I’ve looked at them.” He patted his wife’s arm. “Those were good days, weren’t they dear. Some of them pretty long though. So you thought I was handsome? You never said anything.” He hoped that she hadn’t noticed the frown rippling his brow. “Of course, I never said anything. At least not to you.” Martha blushed at the thought. “Is that why you and Elizabeth seemed always to be whispering. And here I thought it was the roast she cooked or the silver you were polishing.”
“Why did you get so quiet, James? You look troubled - and you thought I wouldn’t notice. Aren’t the flowers beautiful?” Martha pointed across the estate to the rhododendrons by their cottage. “Yes, my dear, they are lovely - as lovely as you are. My troubles are nothing for you to worry about. Just some files that need to be put in order. Tell me about your plans for the reception that never was, Martha.”
“Well I haven’t got it all worked out yet, but I want something spontaneous. I already have Miss Dez prepared to keep her sister and brother-in-law away when it’s time. Everything else will be the same - Elizabeth will get food ready. If we can eat outside, Samuel and Giles will help with setting up the tables and a canopy. Brigitte - well I don’t have anything for her right now, but I’m sure I’ll need her. Now - let’s leave work at work and enjoy the evening.”
~~~~~
Emelina breathed a sigh of relief. She put the files on the dining room table and flopped in the nearest chair. Her accountant, Mr. Winston, was beginning to work on the changes she’d requested. He wasn’t certain, but he felt the Estate finances would support them. They agreed that should he find any glitches, he would revise the plans but only after he spoke with her. Emelina swore him to secrecy. All he could say, and only if James asked, was that he was doing the usual annual review of some files. “I’m rather uncomfortable with that, Mrs.Beaufort - I mean, Mrs. Crawford. I don’t believe I ever congratulated you on your marriage. I wish you both a long and happy marriage.” Mr. Winston hesitated. “But back to your request. James and I have worked together on estate business for years. We’ve never kept anything from each other.” He stood up, moving away from his desk to the window.
“Mr. Winston, I understand that this must be difficult for you, but it will only be for a short time. These people are all so good to me, good for me. I only want the best for them. If there is something you need to share with James, please call me first. I would like this to be a surprise for them if at all possible.” Emelina was nervous, certain she was making a mistake. She had never conducted any business without someone with her. But Jeremy was working all week and Brigitte would not be back until the next week.
Mr. Winston recognized her discomfort. “I’m sure everything will work out just fine. I'll be certain to call you should James asks any awkward questions. You are doing a good thing, Mrs. Crawford. I think that Mr. Beaufort would be proud of you for taking this on. If James has any questions, I’m sure I can field them successfully.”
Emelina was exhausted. After she had presented her very loose plans, her accountant asked her when she last reviewed the Personnel Files and payment schedules. She felt so foolish. When she and Brigitte had started working together, she had tried. With no purpose, she let go of it. Mr. Winston had given her some guidelines for a new review. He didn’t really think she needed much more than the payment schedules. Emelina agreed that her relationship with her staff was very personal and knew little of their financial relationship. She remembered his last words “You’ll be a better employer for it, Mrs. Crawford.”
She turned to her work. The top file was Martha's. She was to look for any raises, especially cost of living, when they were given and what they were due. “I think I'd better get some coffee up here and something to snack on.”
“All things are ready, if our mind be so.”
~ William Shakespeare, Henry V
Review, Revision, Edit and Update
Each time I review an episode, I appreciate the work of editors and copy editors. I could call it tinkering which is what I do. Their work is much more intense and of course, usually for a novel.
I saw little to alter in this episode. One fairly significant error I made was in the first paragraph. The sentence in question originally read: “Extra staff was needed - doctors, nurses, RMTs and......” My intent was to include respiratory therapists, important member of the health care team, but I used the wrong initials. My improved sentence reads: “Extra staff was needed - doctors, nurses, respiratory therapists and......” Other wise, my tinkering involved a few wording changes and spacing. Nothing elaborate.
Awakened
“Do I have to get up? Really?” Jeremy pulled his pillow over his head. “The light is too bright. Just let me sleep.” It was the first good sleep he’d had in two weeks. His rotation was only supposed to be one week, but the hospital filled up with more cases of Covid 19. Extra staff was needed - doctors, nurses, Respiratory Therapists and any auxiliary staff. Everything still needed cleaned, cleaned and cleaned again. And everyone had pulled together. They were all exhausted even with rotations to give people much needed resting time away from the chaos.
“Yes, honey you have to wake up. Here’s coffee and toast. Cook sent it up just for you. None for me! And she fixed it just the way you like it - lots of cream cheese and her strawberry jam. I do get to have coffee with you though, honey.” Jeremy had looked absolutely exhausted when she picked him up the night before. At dinner that evening, he ate everything, at the same time leaning his head on one hand. Drank two big glasses of water and one of milk. Giving a loud burp, he said - “Show me where the bed is, Em. I don’t know if I can get there myself.”
“Ok, ok, I’ll sit up - but I’m not getting out of this bed. How long did I sleep? What time is it?” Scrubbing his eyes open, he squinted out the window. “It’s kind of dark? Why is it time to get up?” Emelina laughed. “Well, you’ve slept all day ~ almost a full 24 hours! I had to check on you to make sure you were still breathing.” He sat up a little straighter, taking the welcome mug of coffee from his wife. “Cook fixed your snack just before she left for the day. There’s dinner waiting for you if you can make yourself get up. You can always go back to bed but get up for a bit, please Jeremy.”
“All right, Em but I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Every muscle in my body aches.” Returning the empty coffee cup to her, he sat slowly on the edge of the bed, leaning his elbows to knees, head in his hands. “Maybe I’ll have a shower and go back to bed. I don’t know about dinner, but a shower I can manage.” He kissed her on the forehead and staggered in to the bathroom. Emelina heard the shower turn on, heard moans of pleasure and “my god that hot water feels good!” She stripped the bed, put fresh sheets on and folded them down for him.
The shower turned off. “Em. I think I might have that dinner after all. I’m starving! Can you hand me my housecoat? Otherwise I’ll have to flash you!” She laughed out loud and took him his housecoat. “I’d rather we had dinner first, husband.”
~~~~~
Dinner was finished. “I’ve eaten all I can eat. When you woke me up, I wasn’t even sure I wanted the coffee. You’re quite the saleswoman! Pushing me out of bed and sending me off to the shower.” Jeremy was shaking his head in mock disbelief. “I did not ‘send you off to the shower’ - it was your idea.” Emelina took some of their dinner dishes to the dumbwaiter. “So are you going to get dressed now?” He pulled her onto his lap. “Jeremy, I need to clear away our dinner things!” She wrested herself away from him. “And why should I get dressed. I saw the bed made up and looking all ready for something.” Em stood behind him and massaged his tight shoulders, eliciting another moan from him. “It is all ready for something, but I want to go for a walk first with you. It’s a lovely evening and you need some fresh air. I want you all limbered up and smelling of the outside, not hospital.” Jeremy looked like a chastened little boy. “Ok, mom, I’ll be a good boy and take my poor old mother for a walk. Maybe she’ll magically change back into my beautiful wife and then I’ll take her to bed.”
~~~~~
Emelina had wanted to talk with Jeremy about doing something for the staff here at the estate. Seeing him so very tired and exhausted, she had decided not to and was glad of it. “Thank you for getting me out here, Em.” Stepping out the front door, the sun almost gone, Jeremy took a deep breath of cool, fresh island air. She stood beside him, happy and content. The two not so young lovers took a stroll around the grounds. Back on the porch sitting on the wicker swinging bench, they cuddled until they both got cold. “Let’s go in, Em. I think I need to get back to bed.”
“To know when to go away and when to come closer
is the key to any lasting relationship.”
~ Doménico Cieri Estrada
