Milking. Whoo hoo.

Last week I started my second-ever summer job.  Milking for the neighbor!  Me and two of my sisters started working there, with nameless parent, and his three boys, age (11), age (10), and age (8).  I've been having a fun time, dippin tits and wiping bags and attaching milkers.  Shannah, on the other hand, loves the work, but does not have the same feelings for her co-workers.  Translation:  two out of three of them have a horrible crush on her.  I worked Tuesday, (Shannah worked Monday) and when I got there, age 8 walks into the barn and says, "Hi. *long pause* Soooo.....where's Shannah?"  I said, "She's at home."  He looked disappointed, then brightened.  "Soooo...when's she back?"  "Day after tomorrow."  He relaxed, grinned, and ran off.  So, Shannah gets there the next night, and immediately is not allowed to do anything.  Lifting buckets: "I'll do that."  Attaching milkers, "I'll do that too."  Now, if you know my sister, you'll know that she is a total spitfire, is a leader whether others want her to be or not, and says what she thinks before actually thinking about it.  This does not go well with when age 11 asked her, "So, who do you like better, me or age 8?  Which one of us is bossier?  On a scale of one to ten, which one do you like better?  Who's cuter?" 
My poor ten year old sister stepped back, and said "You're BOYS.  I don't really think you're cute!"
Hmm.  Poor boys.  They are still hitting on her a lot and running around shirtless for her benefit.
(Which, by the way, isn't really effective when you're eight).
Shannah has a history of young boys falling for her.  I have noticed that pretty much wherever she goes, someone falls for her.  It must be the freckles.  And, whenever that happens (which is frequently), she tells them off.  Once, we had some friends over, and they brought a friend with them.  This particular friend is a little girl-crazy.  Shannah finally got fed up with this boy, (we'll call him Bill) following her around and staring her.  She whipped around, cornered him, and said, "WHY are you following me around and staring at me and stalking me?!?! STOP IT NOW!!!"  Bill regained his composure and said, "You know what I do to girls that I like?  I follow them around and stare at them."  "So you like me then," she stated. "Yup." 
Now, I gotta hand it to that boy, he's got guts.  She did her Shannah thing where she twists her mouth up and nodded sarcastically.  "Hmm. Fine, but Mom is SO finding out."
He just hit on her again.  Mom finally came down on him and said, "Knock it off or leave."
My poor sis.

Maternity Hospital

Have I mentioned yet that me and my siblings (Eliza, Shannah, Wendy, Shane, Linnea) played some crazy games when we were little?  Once, my cousins were over, (Ashley, Isaac, Anna) and we decided to play maternity hospital.  Except there was once hitch.  We didn't want to just have a baby and leave.  So, we had a weird clinic where you had to come to the hospital once you found out you were pregnant, and you could leave when the baby turned two.  So, we found a nice little grassy area with trees placed in a line about 15 feet apart each.  We then placed a porch swing at the front of the line between two of the trees, and that was the receptionist's desk.  Now, what to do about rooms?  We took several snow sleds and horse blankets from the barn, and lots of sheets, blankets, and pillowcases from the house.  Then, we placed a sled at the bottom of each tree, and made the "bed" (which was the sled) with a horse blanket or two for a mattress, and blankets and sheets for....blankets and sheets.  The pillowcases were used to make a bunch of scraggly elementary school girls look pregnant.  I was the receptionist, ultrasound lady, doctor, nurse, surgeon, doula, midwife, maintenance man, laundry lady, maid, and counselor. 
Whew.  Each of the 5 girls playing (except me) were taken to their rooms, and I had a nice stack of baby dolls behind an unoccupied tree, just waiting until someone went into labor.  I bustled around, checking on women, then, alas, Ashley had a contraction!  I ran to her room, and said, "Ash, how far apart are your contractions?!"  The eight-year-old looked rather confused, and said, "Well, there's one here *points to elbow*, and one here *points to heel*. "  I heard a scream from the bed next to Ash.  Uh oh.  Shannah.  The  also eight year old looks at me and says, "HELP!  MY CONTRACTIONS ARE 3 INCHES APART!"  Panic swells the room as Anna, Wendy, and Liza all chime in about their various thumb contractions.  Shannah didn't know how to act like she was in labor, so she just sat halfway up and proceeded to have a seizure, screaming the whole time like here arms were being torn from her body.  Ahhh, drama.  They finally finished labor in about 10 minutes, so I went to distribute babies.  I looked behind me.  Uh oh.  The proud mothers all stopped, stared in shock, then started screaming.  You see, in all the laboring confusion, I did not keep an eye on the plastic dolls.  But someone else did.  The horrid sight before our eyes was Shane and Isaac, ages 6 and 4, running away with about 5 dolls tied by the feet to a stick they carried across their shoulders, yelling, "Hey, Isaac, let's go make soup!  HA HA HA!"
*Lots of screaming and yelling and laughing*.

Skating

We have never really been the skating type of family, but a couple of years ago, my sisters and I found a small frozen body of water by our house.  Huh, we thought, I've never seen this before...Oh, well, let's skate! 
Well, it wasn't long before we were sliding down that body of water that was flowing down a hill, (or so it seemed) before it froze.  We didn't really think to wonder about that, but we did wonder why the color was so bad, and why there were rock-like brown lumps frozen into it.  No matter.  We would just lick the ice until we melted all the way to a brown lump.  We did, and that was no rock.  It didn't taste like one.  We shrugged, and continued to do belly slides, getting soaked all the way, with our tongues out on the ice, licking all the way.  I was elected to go get Mom and see if she wanted to join the fun.  And we just couldn't figure out why she was angry.  You see, before the ground and "water" froze, our sewer pipe split and leaked down a hill, then froze. 
Mom had our poor 7 year old souls wash every inch of our bodies, and the garments arraying them. 
I wonder what those funny tasting brown rocks were?

Weird Things I Should Not Have Had To Say While Babysitting

1. Don't swing that croquet mallet at your brother's head!
2. Stop eating the grass!  You aren't really a horse!
3. Don't forget to get your doll out of the tree.
4. Put shoes on before you walk in the manure!
5. Hey!  Stop injecting air through a bike pump into the VCR!
6. No, we can NOT eat marshmallows for dinner.
7. I told you once, I told you a million times, do not hit your sister with a metal meter stick!
8. Hello, Mom, we have to take Wendy to the E.R. because Shane hit her with an air compressor hose. 
9. No, 6 year old boy, you may not drive the riding lawn mower around the puppy- and sister-filled yard.
10. Get your clothes back on, mister!  I have a video camera rolling!
11. No, darling 10 year old, you may NOT streak in the middle of January!
12. Alright, four and six year olds, strip down on the porch, run to the bathroom, and I will be in to turn the shower on cold in a moment.  You will also be scrubbing the floor later.  This will teach you not to swim in mud puddles. 
13. Never ever throw snowballs at 1800 pound bulls again, young lady!
14. Chickens are livestock, not toys.

More Haying Pictures

HOPE Picnic

Here I have posted all of the pictures I could find that would load of our HOPE (Helping Other Parents Educate) homeschooler picnic.  It was a great time, lots of playing Nukum and eating hot dogs.  These particular pictures, though, are of the Fire Tower in St. Croix Park.

Me and my buddy Lynae

My buddy Lynae again

Lynae's brother, Toby, at the very top of the tower

Mr. Armstrong almost to the top

Me at the top of the tower

Mr. Buzo and Lynae at the very top

Posting these was rather difficult, and a lot of the pictures that I attempted to load did not.  So, here are the few I was able to come up with. 

Haying, I Mean, Mowing the Lawn

The picture quality's not great, but at least you have some idea...

Recently, our lawn mower broke.  Huh.  This means, that, on June 11, we mowed the lawn for the first time all year.  So, naturally, the lawn was up to just below my hip.  We finally did get our lawn mower fixed, and then it couldn't handle the lawn.  So my dad brought in the hay rake.

Linnea (age 4)

So, my dad spent all day yesterday raking hay, and heaping it up into piles with pitchforks, and hauling it out to dry it.  This is sad!

Our yard.....

About a third of our lawn clippings.

Me, Wendy, and Linnea playing in the hay.

The Haybine did not get the grass short enough, so we are going to have to mow over it all again with the regular mower. 

City Girls + Fish Guts = Colossal Fun!

Two years ago, some city girl friends of ours came to our house.  They were so excited, they thought it was so wonderful that we have an actual farm with more animals than a house cat.  They are SO much fun to laugh at after they leave.  Well, on this particular time, they (Ally and Tori) decided that the cow manure and "urine" was too icky, so we should go for a walk.  OK, fine.  So we went down to the crick by our house, only intending to walk.  We got down there, however, and found a nice little treat: the crick was chock-full of 30ish dead fish, some cleaned, some not.  We grabbed our sticks, and set to re-fishing.  Hey, recycling!

The girls working on the fish.

Wendy, Tori

Gills!

We spent almost two hours pulling mangled walleyes out of the crick, then brought them up to our house.  Oh, the mothers we're SO happy!  Especially the city mom!    We dissected them, pulled their eyeballs out and squished the juice out of them, etc.  Don't tell me farm girls don't know how to have fun!

Dryads

Today, as I stood on a large tower surveying the countryside, and I was inspired by it to write here about Dryads.  Dryads, for those of you who don't know, are tree nymphs.  I have been inspired to write about what they look like.  I see them as ladies with brown or dark green dresses, flowy ones, with jagged edges like ripped paper.  They always have long hair, of any color really, with leaves in it.  Now, the leaves are a story in themselves.  If you happen to spot a Dryad, (which you won't unless you're paying attention and really looking for them, with the right intentions), you should know that the leaves of a very young Dryads are yellow, and the leaves of middle-aged Dryads are brown, and only the leaves of very very old Dryads are a fiery red.  If you happen to see one with red leaves, let me know.  They are extremely rare.  There have been only three sightings in the past 1500 years!

I have a question.  Have you made peace with your fairies yet?  I have to do that yet today.  Just take a branch off of a pine tree, set it by your porch, and wait.  If it turns orange, you are welcome on your own property, and the fairies and dryads will defend and protect you from the white-robed elves for the rest of your days.  In case you change and turn to a life of crime, and the fairies henceforth reject you, renew this gesture every ten years.  However, if it stays green for 10,000 years, you must leave the property immediately (permanently) or else they will sic the Centaurs on you, and the Centaurs will kill you.  So keep your fairies happy.

Robin Hood vs Nazis!

When I was about 4 years old, I saw the animated movie, Robin Hood.  That was when I decided that I was going to be Robin Hood when I grew up.  I also decided, that in the mean time, I might as well practice.  So, I donned my loincloth, and set about making a bow and arrow set.  Where I got the idea that Robin Hood wears loincloths I don't know.
I determined that my bow would be a plastic hanger, and my arrows would be colored pencils.  I held onto the hook, and drew back the plastic as far as it could go without breaking it, (OK, I broke some) loaded my pencils, and fired heavily at various domestic animals, parents, small sisters, etc.  I would then run around the house and whoop and holler like an Indian, and bribe people to play with me and be Maid Marian.  We would play this with the Sherveims.  That would lead to about 6 shirtless kids in loincloths whooping and hollering like the dickens.  

The Doorway--the ferns are the camo for the door.  See it?

Years later, when I was probably 12, the Sherveims came over.  We hadn't seen them in a long time, so we decided we were going to reminisce in the way of adding on to games we played years ago.  So, we went out to the woods, where we found a large patch of ferns.  We went back to the haybarn, and built a nice fort, then split into two teams.  Older kids would pick ferns 100 mph, and younger kids would continue on the fort.  We then used the ferns as camouflage, because, you see, we were hiding from the Nazis.  There were 11 kids playing.  We hid there for awhile, and then we decided that the Nazis were gonna  
                                                                                       show up.  So they did, and we performed this beautiful shooting scene, where we all died.  Then they "left" and we decided that that was too short and not romantic enough.  So, we redid it and this time, the Nazis came, and we ran for the woods with the small children.  On the way to our other hiding place, two people got shot, and we had to carry them.  When we finally escaped them, we all bedded down on potato sacks (it was about sunset by then) and proceeded to have an epidemic of Scarlet Fever.  Everyone had their own ideas as to what the symptoms were, so that was interesting.  One by one, they slowly and painfully died, and we had to "bury" them under bushes.  Me and Sadie were elected to be the faithful nurses and to selflessly care for and "bury" the "dead".  Then, in one final episode, we both got sick from a combination of exhaustion and Scarlet Fever exposure and died under the stars.  It was beautiful.                                                                                 

The actual inside, looking over the wall. The carpet is moss and ferns.

The tunnel entrance, with door pulled back.  Carpet is moss.

This is the large area that used to be waist-high in ferns. We cleared it out.

We Had A Baby!

My little sister's horse, Lacy, had a foal yesterday!  She was born during a thunderstorm, and we didn't even know it was happening!  My mom had to drive my dad to the farm, and on the way down, Dad saw a strange object in the pasture.  I have never seen the car drive up the driveway that fast since Dad was mad at some bulls.  (That time, though, he accidentally sideswiped mom's car).  We ran down there and pulled the horses (there are two, Lacy and Glory) up to their stall.  Lacy is Shannah's horse, and Shannah is ecstatic!  We thought we wouldn't be able to catch it, but she is sooo friendly and won't let us alone! 

Awwww.....

Kali is her name!

Proud Mama.

Froggy Queens

Today, we had some friends of ours over, the Sherveims, and we all went swimming.  It was so hot that the crayon we left out on the porch melted!  So, we went 6 miles down the road to Tamarack Lake.  It didn't take long before we realized, with the combination of plastic bags, potato chips, ant larvae we had been playing with, and lots and lots of minnows, we could easily go fishing.   
If you drove by Tamarack Lake that day, you would have seen about 12 children, with 8 of them involved in various activities such as:  hanging as far off the dock as possible without falling in, walking through shoulder-depth water with plastic bags for nets, diving and grabbing fish with their hands, and so on and so forth.  All of them were eating Girl Scout cookies and chips, while feeding the rest of the snacks to the fish.  Also, all were laughing and screaming.  
After about two hours of fishing and not catching a single minnow, we decided to catch frogs instead.  We (meaning me, Sadie, Isabel, Aubrey, and CeCe) went wading through knee-high swamp grass, mud, rotten logs, litter, old beer bottles here and there, and leaves, to find these frogs.  We (after much struggle) caught every frog we could find and put them all in a potato chip bag.  ( :
I, however, was not very gifted at the sport, and I chased a frog around in circles with the aid of a 6 year old in a swamp for several minutes.  I never did catch it. 
Surprisingly, we were not all that dirty when we came out.  The mud felt very good, and the 5 member Froggy Queens team conquered the 7 member Fishy Royalty team, as we caught and tortured (and killed some) 11 frogs, and they caught not one fish.  What's more, is that they had bait, and tackle (if you call plastic bags tackle), and we used our bare hands and not a stitch of bait.  And we STILL won. 
We got home, and decided to go outside once more and do a play.  This time it was just me, Sadie, Liza, and Shannah.  We did Parables from the Bible (dramatically, of course) with pizazz!  We did all we could to include as much drama as possible.  It was incredible!
 First we did the one with the man who is praying pridefully and dramatically in the Temple.  He is praying to get attention, and another man comes in and prays humbly, from his heart.  
I was the crazy proud man.  It was incredibly fun...
We then did the one where the old woman gave all she had (two coins) and was mocked for it.  I was the cameraman in that one.
In the next one, I was the man who mugged the guy who the Good Samaritan rescues.  I loved mugging my sister! 

Dating vs. Courtship

The difference between dating and courtship is huge.  I believe the latter, but this post is intended to start a debate, so feel free to yell at me in the comments box.  (No profanity, please).
My Observations on Dating by Mark Forstrom:
~The relationship usually begins with trying to impress the other person and trying to win him or her over, but the real person remains hidden behind a mask.
~The relationship is formalized by asking the other to "go out"--which is an undefined, temporary pseudo-commitment or contract of sorts.  In reality, the promise made is basically "I'll be somewhat loyal to you for now."
~ They rely on words like "I love you" and Facebook statuses and use pet names, flirting, teasing, good looks, and immodesty.  These are shallow ways to try to keep the relationship secure.
~ Life is much more stressful, complicated, and dramatic with so much riding on the status of the relationship.
~ They tend to become a clique of two, isolating themselves from others.
~ It becomes awkward to speak with or enjoy friendships with those of the opposite sex.
~ Old friends frequently become neglected or hurt, having been replaced by the boyfriend or girlfriend.
~ They often feel a sense of entitlement over the other person's time, attention, and body.
~ They experience great heartbreak and depression when they break up.  Both suffer, but the one who cared the most ends up the most wounded.

So what is the difference between dating and courtship?  Well, in a nutshell, three important keys to a biblical relationship which are often lacking in a dating relationship are these:
1. Marriage is the goal of the relationsip
Biblically, there is no reason to pursue a romantic relationship except for the purpose of marriage, thus entering into the relationship knowing that, yes, if God blesses this relationship, I intend to marry this person.  This takes the guessing-where-the-relationship-is-headed factor out.

2. The complete blessing of both sets of parents is given
God works through authorities.  Specifically in this area of marriage, it is so important to have the blessings of both sets of parents and their advice and guidance along the way.
This makes sure that your decision to court is not made by feelings, but on a good foundation.  This way, instead of two twitterpated brains thinking, you have four other solid brains.

3. The focus is on the spiritual vs. physical.
In courtship, the purpose is to build a strong spiritual relationship and save the physical entirely for marriage.
-Mark Forstrom, Sarah Mally

Courtship, as I define it, is Dating with commitment and the intention of marriage. 
Dating, as I define it, is a temporary relationship with no solid foundation and unsure intentions. 
If you disagree with me, that's fine.  I respect that. I personally define the dating process like this:
Fall in "love", date, give heart away, break up, get heart broken.  Repeat.
I want no part of this ever, thank you.

Abortion 101

Yesterday I was wondering, how exactly are abortions done?  Well, I looked it up, and here's what I got.

What are the first trimester surgical ones?
There are several types:
- Menstrual extraction:
This is a very early suction abortion, often done before the pregnancy test is positive.
- Suction-aspiration:
In this method, the abortionist must first paralyze the cervical muscle ring (womb opening) and then stretch it open. This is difficult because it is hard or "green" and not ready to open. He then inserts a hollow plastic tube, which has a knife-like edge on the tip, into the uterus. The suction tears the baby’s body into pieces. He then cuts the deeply rooted placenta from the inner wall of the uterus. The scraps are sucked out into a bottle (see color photo in back of book). The suction is 29 times more powerful than a home vacuum cleaner.
- Dilatation & Curettage (D&C):
This is similar to the suction procedure except that the abortionist inserts a curette, a loop-shaped steel knife, up into the uterus. With this, he cuts the placenta and baby into pieces and scrapes them out into a basin. Bleeding is usually profuse.
What are second trimester ones?
In the 1970s and ’80s the most common type was saline amniocentesis, or salt poisoning abortions.
These are not used much anymore because of danger to the mother. These are done after the 16th week. A large needle is inserted through the abdominal wall of the mother and into the baby’s amniotic sac. A concentrated salt solution is injected into the amniotic fluid. The baby breathes and swallows it, is poisoned, struggles, and sometimes convulses. It takes over an hour to kill the baby. When successful, the mother goes into labor about one day later and delivers a dead baby.
Is it actually poisoning?
Yes. The mechanism of death is acute hypernatremia or acute salt poisoning, with development of wide-spread vasodilatation, edema, congestion, hemorrhage, shock, and death. Galen et al., "Fetal Pathology and Mechanism of Death in Saline Abortion, Amer. Jour. of OB&GYN,1974, vol. 120, pp. 347-355
And other methods?
In the ’70s and ’80s, prostaglandin drugs were used to induce violent premature labor and delivery. When used alone, there was: "...a large complication rate (42.6%) is associated with its use. Few risks in obstetrics are more certain than that which occurs to a pregnant woman undergoing abortion after the 14th week of pregnancy." Duenhoelter & Grant, "Complications Following Prostaglandin F-2 Alpha Induced Mid-trimester Abortion." Jour. of OB & GYN, Sept. 1975
Because of these problems, the D&E or Dilatation & Evacuation method was developed and largely replaced the above. It involves the live dismemberment of the baby and piecemeal removal from below.
A pliers-like instrument is used because the baby’s bones are calcified, as is the skull. There is no anesthetic for the baby. The abortionist inserts the instrument up into the uterus, seizes a leg or other part of the body, and, with a twisting motion, tears it from the baby’s body. This is repeated again and again. The spine must be snapped, and the skull crushed to remove them. The nurse’s job is to reassemble the body parts to be sure that all are removed.
This sounds dangerous.
It is, but a report from the U.S. Center for Disease Control, Dept. HEW, stated that it is still safer for the mother than the salt-poisoning or Prostaglandin method. "Comparative Risks of Three Methods of Midtrimester Abortion," Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report, Center for Disease Control, HEW, Nov. 26, 1976
It is reported that every year about 100,000 women are aborted by the D&E method, between 13 and 24 weeks gestation. Of this, 500 have "serious complications." This was still judged to have a "lower risk of morbidity and mortality than the infusion procedures." MacKay et al., "Safety of Local vs General Anesthesia for Second Trimester D&E Abortions" OB-GYN, vol. 66, no. 5, Nov.1985, p. 661
Any new methods?
Yes, intracardiac injections. Since the advent of fertility drugs, multi-fetal pregnancies have become common. "The frequency of triplet and higher pregnancies . . . has increased 200% since the early 1970s."
Since these are usually born prematurely and some have other problems, a new method has been developed. Assisted Repro. Techniques . . . , L. Wilcox, Fertl. & Sterility, vol. 65, #2, Feb. ’96, pg. 361
At about 4 months a needle is inserted through the mother’s abdomen, into the chest and heart of one of the fetal babies and a poison injected to kill him or her. This is "pregnancy reduction." It is done to reduce the number or to kill a handicapped baby, if such is identified. If successful, the dead baby’s body is absorbed.
Sometimes, however, this method results in the loss of all of the babies.
Are there 3rd trimester abortions?
A more recently developed method here is the partial birth abortion, also called "brain suction" or "D&X" methods.
- These are done after 4 or 5 months.
- 80% of babies are normal.
- Most babies are viable.
This is like a breech delivery. The entire infant is delivered except the head. A scissors is jammed into the base of the skull. A tube is inserted into the skull, and the brain is sucked out. The now-dead infant is pulled out.

One morning's work at a Canadian Teaching Hospital.

This is insane!  How can anyone ever believe that this is a "safe" and "merciful" and "painful" procedure?  The truth is is that they should not be calling it a "procedure" at all.  It is murder, hands down.  The breech delivery babies are 4 inches from being completely born, thus, 4 inches later, the Abortionist would be guilty of murder.  I call them "Abortionists" because they are not worthy of a prestigious title such as "Doctor" or "Physician".  I also call the places where the Abortions are preformed Abortion Mills, or Abortion Chambers.  Not clinics, because a Clinic is a place you go to be healed, and that is not the case with Abortion Mills.  50% of women who have an abortion later end up with Breast Cancer.   And never say "Pro-choice", unless you end this phrase with "...to kill".  Avoid using this in any other context like a plague. 

Join The Rebelution!

The Rebelution is a blog written by 19 year old average twin brothers who have a vision for this generation.  Here is their idea, as said in their book, Do Hard Things:
"Most people don't expect you to understand what we're going to tell you in this book.  And even if you do understand, they don't expect you to care.  And even if you do care, they don't expect you to do anything about it.  And even if you do something about it, they don't expect it to last.  WE DO.
....This book invites you to explore some radical questions:
~ Is it possible that even though teens today have more freedom than any other generation in history, we're missing out on some of the best years of our lives?
~ Is it possible that what our culture says about the purpose and potential of the teen years is a lie and we are its victims?
~ Is it possible that our teen years give us a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for huge accomplishments--as individuals and as a generation?
~ And finally, what would our lives look like if we set out on a different path entirely--a path that required more effort but promised a lot more rewarding?
What we are challenging you to do is grab hold of a more exciting option for your teen years thatn the one portrayed as normal in society today.  This option has somehow gotten lost in our culture, and most people don't even know it.  In the pages ahead, you will meet young people just like you who have rediscovered the this better way--a way to reach higher, dream bigger, grow stronger, love an honor God, live with more joy--and quit wasting their lives.   
The word rebelution is probably new to you.  To be honest, we made it up.  We combined rebellion and revolution to form an entirely new word for an entirely new concept: rebelling against rebellion.  More precisely, we define rebelution as "a teenage rebellion against low expectations."

OK, this is me again.  I totally agree with these guys.  I am very tired of the "typical teenager" mold we are supposed to fit in.  Jesus did not say "Now go out into the world and be like everybody else", He basically said, "Break the mold!"  That is what I want to do.....I am reading their book now and trying to learn how exactly to do this.  For more information, go to www.therebelution.com