Singing of the Psalms: Part 2

 Not only did John Eliot participate in the printing and publishing of the Bay Psalm Book, but he also translated the entire Bible into a dialect that had no written language. A 13 year-old Algonquin boy lived with John. It's said that he never left John's side- even sleeping on the floor next to John's bed. As he learned English from John, he taught John his language. The New Testament was completed first and printed while he translated the Old Testament.

John was a strong advocate of the Algonquins and was instrumental in building schools and writing bilingual textbooks. Sadly all of the Algonquin tribes were wiped out by the Redcoats. 

Eliot Indian Bible

Printed in Cambridge, Massachusetts, between 1660 and 1663, the Eliot Indian Bible was the first complete bible printed in the Western Hemisphere. As part of his mission to convert the indigenous people of Massachusetts, Puritan clergyman John Eliot spent fourteen years translating the Geneva English Bible into Natick, a dialect spoken by the Algonquin tribes in the region. Equally formidable was the story of printing the bible. Under Stephen Daye’s supervision, 1000 copies were printed by Samuel Green on the first printing press in colonial America. He was assisted by a newly arrived English printer, Marmaduke Johnson, who brought with him 100 reams of paper and 80 pounds of new type, including extra “O’s” and “K’s” necessary to accommodate Algonquin spellings. At its completion, the Eliot Bible emerged as the largest printing project in seventeenth-century America.

John Eliot (1604–1690). The Holy Bible: Containing the Old Testament and the New. Translated into the Indian Language. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Samuel Green and Marmaduke Johnson, 1663. Bible Collection, Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Library of Congress (004.00.00)

Bookmark this item: //www.loc.gov/exhibits/bay-psalm-book-and-american-printing/online-exhibition.html#obj004

To be continued.

Singing of the Psalms Is Special To Me

It's Personal! 

Because I am the great, great, great, great, great-granddaughter of John Eliot.

David playing his harp (unknown artist, c. 960)

Part 1: The Bay Psalm Book

The decision to print a book of psalms metered for singing may seem an odd choice as the first book to be printed by the settlers of Massachusetts Bay, but this modest book served the larger purpose of the colony—to live within the reformed church. The Bay Psalm Book, as it is known, is essentially sacred text to be sung during the liturgy. A committee of thirty learned elders, including John Cotton, Richard Mather, and John Eliot, set about the task of creating a new translation of the 150 Hebrew psalms into English and casting the text into verse for singing.

Printing the Bay Psalm Book in 1640 required importing the tools and materials of printing to the new colony. The Reverend Jose Glover put this into action when he resigned his post in Surrey, England, and set sail for the Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1638 with his family, possessions, and a printing press operation, replete with paper and slightly worn type. Glover died aboard ship, and it was left to his widow, Elizabeth, to establish the press.

Elizabeth Glover eventually moved the printing operation to Cambridge, Massachusetts, and placed it under the charge of her husband’s apprentice, Stephen Daye (1594?–1668). Daye was a locksmith by trade; his press work and spelling were inconsistent. Two centuries later, American printer Isaiah Thomas would remark that the Bay Psalm Book “abounds with typographical errors. . . . This specimen of Daye’s printing does not exhibit the appearance of good workmanship.” It was, nevertheless, the first full venture of printing in British North America, and this ambitious effort is an important monument of the establishment of this nation and its culture. It is estimated that 1,700 copies of the book were printed, which sold for twenty pence. Today, only eleven copies survive.

From Online Exhibition.

Guest Post

 ONE ORNERY PUPPY

By Joe Mazzella

It was a cold, Winter’s day. Even with clear skies and the sun shining down the temperature hadn’t gotten above 10 degrees all day long. I listened to the heater kick on and zipped up my sweater. I had finished with all my work and now just wanted to relax and read in my nice, warm bed. I fluffed up a pillow behind my head, turned the television to the music from the 70's channel, and opened up my book. I smiled, laid back, and got ready to take it easy. I should have known better.

“SWEETIE, NO!”, my son yelled from the living room. Suddenly in flew a four-legged bundle of brown fur. She jumped on my bed, burrowed behind my pillow, and stuck her head on my shoulder. “Sweetie, what have you done now?”, I asked. She didn’t answer just looked at me guiltily with her ears down, her eyes squinted, and her lower teeth sticking out. I laughed when I saw her this way and petted her head to let her know I forgave her. Already that day she had barfed up bits of her chew bone, tore up the corner of my quilt and peed in the floor when I was putting on my coat to walk her. I kept petting her while her body relaxed and her resting guilt face slowly turned into happy pant. Then she licked my cheek and nibbled my ear with her under-bite. I laughed again and said, “Sweetie, I love you but you are one ornery puppy.”

I sometimes wonder what my life would be like without dogs in it. My house sure would be cleaner, the furniture wouldn’t be chewed on, the floors wouldn’t be scratched, and dog hair wouldn’t be all over my clothes. But I would also have a lot less laughter, a lot less love, and a lot less joy in my life. I think I would take a dog’s love and a dirty house any day of the week.

Of all the blessings and gifts God gives us in this life, I will always put dogs right at the top of the list. They are our best friends and greatest teachers of love, even the ornery ones...

Sweetie    

~ ~ ~

Thanks, Joe!

This reminded me of my Brandi. She fit in my husband's hand the day he gave her to me. He slipped her into the pocket of the bathrobe I was wearing. "Yikes! It moved." 

She quickly became MY dog, which included unconditional love. If I wasn't feeling well, she wouldn't leave me. We were packing to move into our first house when our neighbor, Mr. M stopped by.

"You're not taking Brandi with you, are you?" Smiling, he explained that Brandi had been taking his ponies out to pasture every morning. "She's tiny, but is a great herder."

We were shocked, but that information became vital when I received an early morning phone call. It was an anxious Mrs. M asking for Brandi to come over. A mare hadn't come in and probably had given birth in the pasture, but they couldn't find her.

I carried Brandi to the pasture and told her to find the mare. She took me right to her and her foal. Brandi talked to the mare answered. Then I approached the baby. She looked healthy and I believe she either couldn't stand or could, but the walk to the barn would have been too tasking.

"I need to carry her in," I told Brandi. Another dog/mare conversation occurred. When my dog looked up at me, I knelt a picked up the foal.... by the way, she was heavy... and carried her to the barn with her mother right at my elbow. The baby stood up as I placed her in a stall with fresh hay. I believe I hear a snicker from the mare saying thank you.

When our first child arrived, Brandi became his protector and teacher.

The day arrived for Brandi to be a mom and she wanted nothing to do with this new adventure. I delivered the first puppy as he was too big for her. Each of the following 4 puppies was consecutively smaller. She would not have anything to do with the first three. While I was cleaning up the third one, she finally got it and was a good mother. Brandi was a smaller dog than Sweetie. It was a miracle that all five were alive and healthy. Even the vet asked, "Where did she put them?" Also, they were not all the same.

The vet determined she'd been impregnated by two daddies. It has to occur within minutes of each other, but does happen. I'd seen a  small black curly-haired dog by the fence. Two of the puppies were totally black. A large white poodle lived behind us. One of the puppies was all white with curly hair. The other two looked like Brandi, whose coloring was like Sweetie's above.

Joe's story plus the memories it triggered blessed my heart. Hope they will bless you as well.

Selah...

Connie

i

 

Sharing the upcoming- starting Feb. 4th- online Bible Study of Ephesians by Pastor Dr. Ralph F. Wilson.

I love his studies as he speaks my language- you'll find him extremely knowledgeable yet easy to understand.

Following each study are footnotes, which you can use to go even deeper into the study. I have emailed him with questions and he always responds within the week.

I have completed studies for Advent, Lent, several portions on Psalms, and many other books of the OT & NT. I've never been disappointed & always gained new insight. I highly recommend learning from him. Let me know if you'll join us!

All the studies are free- even his older material from before he retired. He encourages young pastors to use any of his work to build on for their sermons and Bible study nights.

I used to copy & print all his studies, but the ink is getting too expensive. So I do purchase his study booklets when available.

Here's the email address:
Ephesians Online Bible Study www.jesuswalk.com/ephesians/

Guest writer: Jean Wise

Frederick Buechner wrote, “We have God’s joy in our blood.”   And I would add in our DNA.

The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves.  He will take great delight in you; in his love, he will no longer rebuke you but will rejoice over you with singing.  Zephaniah    3: 17

My practice of joy takes these intentional steps: Seeing. Saying. Savoring

Seeing – paying attention to all the moments of joy in each day. 👀

Saying – expressing gratitude for joys. 💋

Savoring – pausing and beholding those moments. 💖

The fullness of joy is to behold God in everything.  - Julian of Norwich

Each day I watch for joy, recognize its gift, and allow it to seep into my soul. Thank you, Lord, for joy.

One place I find joy is in poetry. 

Mindful

Every day I see or hear something that 

more or less kills me with delight,

that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light.

It was what I was born for –
to look, to listen,

to lose myself
inside this soft world –
to instruct myself
over and over in joy, and acclamation.

Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant –
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab, the daily presentations.

Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help but grow wise
with such teachings as these –
the untrimmable light of the world,
the ocean’s shine,
the prayers that are made out of grass?

by Mary Oliver

* * *

And I would add that practicing joy yields gratitude.

Selah - think on this,

Connie

(https://healthyspirituality.org/the-spiritual-practice-of-joy/)

Others say it better...

I begin each year with a new calendar, a spiral notebook and journals.

A spiral notebook sits on my desk as a catch-all for things to save: dates, appts., messages, quotes, ideas, prayers,  reminders, etc. Once they're filed in an appropriate place they are disposed of.

 My colorful journals vary, in number, type, size, etc. and I like to start at least one new one each year. Besides helping me stay organized, their value is great as I review the past year's copies as a way of evaluating the year gone by and setting new goals.

There are also 3 ongoing binders I use: a Writer's Journal, a Reader's Journal, and a Knitting Journal.

I prefer journals that will lay open for easy access and has college-ruled lines so my writing stays straight.

All the books I purchase are recorded in my Reader's Journal prior to being shelved. All call-outs for submission are written in the Writers Journal including the due date calendar.

My favorite journal is for quotations because others can often say it better.

 This song from Handle's "Messiah" stirs my heart.

"For unto us a child was born..." a baby that cried when hungry and wet; a child that learned carpentry from Joseph & the meaning of the Torah from His Heavenly Father; a child Mary knew was unlike any other. A man, who when baptized brought us God's declaration: "This is my Son...in whom I am well pleased." 


The Son became a healer, a teacher, a man of prayer & so much more. Jesus, the Christ came to comfort... to give us hope, joy, and peace.

                              

with child

a gasp, a cry

an exhausted mother’s sigh

a father’s teardrops

a heavenly umbilical cord cut and tied

a sweet aroma of fresh hay

a tiny gurgle as rosebud lips find milk

a whispered prayer

a naming as God commanded

a squeak of rafters as birds and mice gather

a gentle breeze to fan the fire

a clip and clop of a donkey’s feet

a quiet baa-aa and a hushed moo

a ray of starlight

a flutter of angel wings

a silence

a moment realizing God’s sacrifice-

His only son

a yip of a sheepdog on the hillside

an owl’s hoot as he hunts

a rowdy laugh from the inn

a braying camel on the dusty road

a mother and babe sleep

a father watches

an angel guards

a world waits

                          © 2005 Constance Gilbert

I keep Yeshua haMashiach (Jesus, the Messiah) deep in my heart as my comforter, encourager, and hope. I eagerly await His return when I can praise Him all day as part of His angelic choir.

I pray that you know Him, too.

   

Selah- think about these things

Connie

The Family Tree

If you visit me, you'll find one corner and the adjacent wall covered with trees. For me, they have multiple meanings. For my guests, they are conversation starters. Outside my front window is a plum tree that I call mine. I spend hours watching the birds come and go. 

Trees trigger feelings of calmness and peace even during a storm. As I reflect on the day of Jesus' birth, I sense some fear as Mary's labor intensified. Mary was so young; did she understand the birthing process? Or was the fear from Joseph. 

Was there anything Mary saw to calm her?

The baby born to Mary would become "a man of sorrows... familiar with suffering." (Isaiah 53:3) Those hardships began before he was even born. 

"Why now?" thought Joseph as he slowly walked home. He dreaded telling Mary that they would have to go to Bethlehem for the census reporting; it was going to be hard on her so close to her time. All the things she had made for the baby, the cradle he had made- none of it could go with them. Just a change of clothes and some food for the journey... they had room for no more. No family nor the old, but a good midwife of Nazareth would be there to help Mary through the birth. "Why now, Lord?" 

Gracious, sweet Mary reassured him that God would take care of them. Holding her aching back she went inside to prepare for their journey. It would take a long time to cover the 90 miles to Bethlehem. 

But all was as planned- one writer said, "Taxes were as good as any reason to get the Holy Family to Bethlehem" for God had said through Micah that the Savior of the World would come out of the little town of Bethlehem and would be a relative of Kind David. (Micah 5:2)

 Indeed both Mary and Joseph were of the house of David; their family tree is listed in Scripture. By the way, that tree contained David, whom God loved, and Boaz, a righteous man, married to Ruth, a gentile. Even Jesus' lineage indicated that He came for all the world.

 Joseph and Mary may have joined a caravan of other travelers also going to the place of their ancestry. Yet it would be a rugged trip. Whether walking or riding, Jesus was bouncing safely within Mary's womb. God would protect them, but that did not include making the trip any easier. More tough times were ahead: no place to stay in Bethlehem, no easy birth, no royal garments, Joseph would have to find work, Mary would feel all alone. 

Then another trip to escape into Egypt knowing innocent male babies under 2 years old were being slaughtered by Roman soldiers. 

Christmas card nativity scenes do not show the reality of Jesus' birth: Joseph mucking out a stall and lining it with clean straw, the smells and sounds of the animals, a rural town unprepared for the large number of travelers, limited food and water, only strips of cloth to wrap the baby, the fear when smelly shepherds arrived. 

... Mary pondered these things and tucked them away in her heart ... 

Selah- Shalom, Connie

Phantasmagorical

While reading a mystery by Elizabeth George, I noticed near the end she used phantasmagorical to describe the Detective Inspector's trip to find the woman he loved. Writers should not use words like that; they stop the reader and can distract them enough to lose the flow of the story. 

However, it was near the end and I was focusing on whether it would end "happily ever after." So I did not stop reading, but I did look it up in the dictionary. It means dreamlike, illusionary, or as an event swiftly changes; change the ph to an f and you'll recognize it as fantasy-like. 

Because it is Advent and I am contemplating the wonders of Christ's birth, I thought of Mary when the angel, Gabriel, told her that she was the chosen one to bear God's Son. I also thought of Joseph as Gabriel told him that Mary was telling him the truth; and of the old priest, Zechariah, when an angel told him that his barren wife Elizabeth, Mary's cousin, would bear a son. That son would be called John; he would prepare the way for Jesus' ministry including baptizing Jesus. 

Each event must have been phantasmagorical. If the foretold births had not taken place, Mary, Joseph, and Zechariah would have thought the angel was an illusion, a dream, a fantasy of the imagination. 

Gabriel and the angel, visiting the old priest, were messengers of God, who were preparing for God's mercy and love to be demonstrated through the birth and death of Jesus, God's only Son. A part of Himself had to come to earth for there is no sin in heaven... no death. He came to remove our separation from Him... to bring us back to Him, who created us. 

I love how Pastor Dr. Wilson* wrote it:

 God’s purpose in Christmas 

is to begin his mission 

to draw all mankind

     to himself through Christ.

🎵 Amazing love, how can it be ...🎵

Selah- 

Shalom, Connie

_______________

*Wilson, Ralph F.. 28 Advent Scriptures: Readings and Resources for the Christmas Season (p. 106). JesusWalk Publications. Kindle Edition. 

published

 

Although I'm unable to do a book signing, I did present Olivia, the Fierce to the residents during the monthly jam session on the 14th of September "release day" 2021.

I presented a copy of Chicken Soup for the Soul: My Clever, Curious, Caring Cat ~ 101 Tales of Feline Friendship to the library. And everyone present received a cat pen and cat bookmark.

Happily,

Connie

 

 

Congratulations to my writing friend and author, Mary DeMuth!

Her latest book was released yesterday: Stop Living Small, which I recommend to all women who have struggled or are struggling with the lies of unworthiness, which renders us with feelings of shame, remorse, loneliness, vulnerability, longings without hope of success, despair and more negative thoughts.

I relate to Mary's writing because I know she's been there, but her struggles taught the lessons we need to hear today. Number one is that God's love can erase all those lies.

I love Mary's writing because she puts feelings, which are hard to express, into words that form mental pictures in my mind.  Only then can I/we place ourselves into the picture" and find healing and joy.

More Submissions Accepted

  Celebrating!  

terri grace-publishing.com	Tue, Aug 24, 9:29 AM (4 days ago)
to me

Hi Connie,

I want to thank you for sending your stories to me for consideration. We have received so many good ones we have enough for a Christmas 2021 and Christmas 2022 book! "The Miracle of the Christmas Rabbit" has been selected for inclusion in the 2021 Divine Moments Christmas anthology, and we would like to use "Fall on Your Knees" in the 2022 book

When this year's book is ready to proof you will receive a pdf to check your piece, the bio, and the Table of Contents page for typos, etc.

Blessings,

Terri Kalfas

  Grace Publishing

 Sunday, August 8th

After church, my family brought sandwiches, chips, soup, and salad for lunch on the patio with me.

It remains hot- it may even reach 100 degrees again this week.  But in the shade with a gentle breeze, it was pleasant on my patio. 

We are back to masking and social distancing here in Oregon, as the COVID-19 cases are again at a crisis level at our local hospital. We also have been informed that one of my neighbors has COVID-19.

I have not been out and about, so no exposure. My grandkids have received their second vaccine dose in preparation for returning to school. It felt good exchanging hugs when they left today.

Not leaving my apartment protects me from infections, but it also deconditions me. The walk to the patio was challenging, requiring several stops just to breathe before reaching my chair.

Once back in the a/c and breathing easier, I remembered the above photo. In my head, I am still young...

My story about a cat who hated people will be on the bookshelves and available on Amazon in five weeks. The shadow above shows how I'd like to enter the room for a book signing on September 14th.

Instead, here's a peek at Chicken Soup for the Soul's next edition:

P.S. Royalties from this edition will go to American Humane -specifically for the care of cats.

Hot

 

Triple Digits & Wildfires in Central Oregon

Most of my phone calls are scams that are computerized. One of my favorite ones is from Social Security telling me about the fraudulent activity. which has resulted in an arrest order. They don't know my name, but there's an arrest warrant out. Not! I like it when it's a human voice for two reasons. I still have a landline and I enjoy slamming down the receiver.  

And I play games when it's a real person. It ruins their scripted answers and they hang up on me.

However, last Friday at 4:45 p.m. my senior social services case manager called, "This is Katie (name changed). How are you... do you have an air conditioner?" I assured her that I did and was comfy. Her voice sounded tired but also relieved at my response. I had the feeling she had been calling her clients all day.

I have caregivers 4 hours per day. They were instructed to take their clients without a/c to someplace cool. Oregon has lightened the COVID precautions, thankfully.

And-- borrowing from Hallmark: "When you care enough to keep seniors safe..." you get a gold star from me.

Connie

77 years old 

on oxygen

 

Need to Laugh?

 Pogo 1950s

Walt Kelly, cartoonist

Recently at my 6-month checkup with my primary doctor, I was asked to fill out several forms: alcohol, drug, and depression screens. Two were quick and easy: I do not drink and I take only drugs as prescribed. However, the voices in my head argued about how truthful to be on the depression screen. 

I am feeling down and I am very irritable. BUT I am not taking my medications. Do I 'fess-up? I noted my feelings, but I didn't place them high on the 1-10 scale. Thus the doctor did not ask about my depression.

Depression is not new to me. It began in my teen years related to my dysfunctional home life. 

In 1959, a friend gave me this Pogo figurine saying hope and happiness are always nearby, even when not easily seen. 62 years later Pogo and his bluebird of happiness sits on my tree shelf as an ongoing reminder of a caring friend and proven truth.

Prior to retirement, I was a Mental Health Case Manager for Medicaid. I was also certified in gerontology with expertise in geriatric psychology. Today I do not need a therapist to tell me I need to laugh! I need to stop having Pitiful Pearl Parties. I need to stop being the victim. And I need to take my medications because they are effective.

In the 1990s, I read several books by Barbara Johnson Through humor she addresses issues of life still prevalent today. I recommend all of her books. My favorite though is Pack Up Your Gloomees... and Laugh. [I have attended one of her presentations. She's as funny in person as she writes.]

[See previous posts dates 7/14/2016 & 8/2/2016.] 

COVID-19 is not causing my emotional distress. It is just the erratic season change and lack of energy-related to my chronic illnesses.

I am doing things that are pleasurable; e.g., coloring cards for birthdays, and Father's Day; and knitting. Scanning Reader's Digest also perks me up with their jokes and happy stories. Sudoku puzzles, reading, writing and studying Hagar, the slave girl in Genesis 15-21 keep me feeling productive.

Looking through some old photos and sharing their stories with my caregivers has brought smiles to both our faces.

The bonus was a surprise. My 15-year-old granddaughter brought laughter and great pride to my home via YouTube. She performed in two interpretive modern dances and was the mother in the high school play, "Little Women." She is very talented. Both were great!

Join me and...

Selah...

Connie

                                                                                                                           

 [Tip: Read the previous post first.]

April 4, 2021, Resurrection Day

A Day of Remembering

Were You There 

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?

Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?

Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.

Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?

Were you there when he rose up from the grave?

Were you there when he rose up from the grave?

Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.

Were you there when he rose up from the grave?

This old spiritual sends tears down my cheeks every time I hear it. My mind tries to envision the horror of it all. My heart and soul try to comprehend that kind of love-- on Jesus' part as well as God's.

I attempt to enter Mary’s mind as she sees her son mocked and flogged; the various responses of the Roman soldiers and the crowd; and the fears of Pilate, the members of the Sanhedrin, and the temple priests.

If I’d joined the women at the tomb, would I have been frightened or rejoicing when I saw the empty tomb?

Would I have fallen on my knees and cried, “Holy, holy holy! Blessed is He, the Son of the Most High?”

Or would I have run to the village well to tell the other women the truth that He truly was the Messiah? Or would I be able to send the good news via Camel Express to my family and friends?

Or would I sob and ponder these things in my heart? Like the three Mary’s, I think I would stay nearby.

I remain without comprehension.

Then I read this from the Seven Last Words¹ and pause.

“In one very real sense in this one very real moment he was hopeless because there could be no reprieve, no call from the governor, no appeal or last-minute stay of execution. There was no hope to escape death because Jesus had been born for this moment, born to die to redeem us from sin.

“Frederick Buechner wrote, “The miracle was to be that there would be no miracle. He was to be spared nothing.” ...Frederick Buechner Trusting in the unfailing character of God, but will the Father who seems to have forsaken him receive him now?

Yes, “Jesus comes to that final moment. With a loud cry, he shoves against all the despair and darkness of death and shouts, “Catch me Abba” and with trust in his Father’s unfailing character, resting in the Father’s sovereign purpose, Jesus jumps with abandon into the loving hands and arms of his Heavenly Father. “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”

And the good news for us, Jesus didn’t jump alone. No, he took us with him. For all of us who have placed our faith in Christ as our Savior and Lord, the bible says we are in Christ. We are in him, and he is taking us with us. Can you hear him? “Abba, get your hands ready to catch me. Oh, and can you catch my friend as well. I told him today he would be with me in paradise. He’s coming with me.” And the Father says, “Jump, I’ll catch you both.”

My tomb of hope now makes sense. I smile and sing Charles Wesley’s refrain followed by Michael Card's last verse:

“Amazing love, how can it be that thou my God shouldst die for me.”

"Love crucified arose.

The risen One in splender;

Jehovah's soul defender;

Has won the victory.

Love crucified arose;

And the grave became a place of hope,

For the heart that sin and sorrow broke

Is beating once again."

“Amazing love, how can it be that thou my God shouldst die for me.”

Selah, think about this…

Connie

---

[i] https://cagtulsa.com/wp-content/uploads/sermons/2014/04/Seven-Last-Words-Part-7-4-18-14.pdf]