SOMEDAY, my coffee table will hold two or three "coffee table" books, period. It will not contain two years worth of knitting and quilting magazines, a lost library book, a world atlas, assorted women's magazines, and part of last week's laundry waiting to be folded.
SOMEDAY, my grandchildren will be grown and get money from me for Christmas, not something handknitted by me (with stripes, and a kitty, per request). They will learn to eschew the gray sweatshirt with the embroidered cat mouse and heart motif. They will distain wearing the soft blue vest with matching leggings, or the cabled sweater.
SOMEDAY, I will go to the store to buy yarn for one project which I will complete BEFORE beginning another. My yarn stash box will be empty and the scraps left over from other projects will have been knitted up into hats, scarves, and other small projects. There will be no STASH.
SOMEDAY, The kitchen table in our house will be a place to eat, not a storage location for all the mail and flyers we've gotten in the past month, the single sock that didn't have a mate from last weeks laundry (or was that three weeks ago?). The laptop computer will live elsewhere, along with assorted notes, the receipts to enter into Quicken and, oh, that's where that check got to.
SOMEDAY, We will eat all of our meals at the above mentioned table. Our meals will consist of a nutritious variety of locally grown produce, lovingly handbaked bread, whole grains and fresh meat and seafood. Our recycling bin will no longer be stuffed with frozen food boxes, pasta boxes, empty cans, and plastic bottles.
SOMEDAY, My garage will sport a workbench and tool storage unit along the north side, gardening equipment tidily placed near the third garage door, a few boxes stacked neatly on shelves between these two, and acres of empty, swept space in the center where we can, and do, park our two cars, with the third bay cleverly and conveniently left vacant in case space is needed for a visitor's car, or to complete a project.
SOMEDAY, I'll be organized.
MEANWHILE, The socks I'm knitting are a horrid color. I can't imagine why I ever chose this ugly green. The scarf is nearly finished, only a few more rows to go and the yarn will be gone. I'll have to look up the directions for the top to this hat, then it will be completed. I'm really not in the mood for lace knitting. I guess I will cast on for the sweater I want to make next. I will have to run to the store to get the rest of the yarn I need. Knitting will pass the time nicely until someday arrives.
Oh, and SOMEDAY, there WILL be peace on earth.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Oldie and goodie
When I was ten years old, my parents aquired a television set. It had two knobs or dials on it. Just two. You turned the one on the left counterclockwise to turn the set on (there was a distinct click) and then to adjust the volume, just like you did for a radio. You turned the one on the right up or down to the twelve available channels, 2 through 13. Only 2, 4, and 7 were actually used, however. Each of these setting produced a grainy or snowy picture in black and white, accompanied by sound. It was sooooo coool.
Up to this time, we had watched TV by standing on the porch at the neighbors and peering in their window. The drawback to that program was that we could not hear the sound. I do not know if these neighbors objected to the presence of four or five small children peering in their front window. They could have closed the curtains, of course, but that would not have advertised so well the presence of a television set in their living room.
That was it. Just two buttons, on/off, sound up or down, channel selection - any one of three. No start and stop, no mute, no menu, you didn't even need a college degree to run the thing. I recollect we did it just fine with only a fourth or fifth grade education. Of course, the buttons never got lost either, being attached rather firmly to the TV itself.
The TV itself couldn't get lost either. It was larger than the one we have now. Not the picture part of course, that was a small screen about 10 inches across. But the box it came in was a regular piece of furniture about the size of a footstool around, and as tall as a short bookcase. It lived mainly in our basement, along with the porch furniture which was stored in the "play" side of the basement for the winter.
We rarely watched TV in the summer anyway, since it was mostly reruns. One notable exception was the summer of 1952, when we watched the Republican National Convention which nominated Dwight D. Eisenhower as the Republican candidate for president. I'm not sure how much interest I took in the proceedings, but we were allowed to WATCH the TELEVISION, so we watched. We also watched the test patterns which were run before the TV station actually started broadcasting, so this may indicate our level of interest.
My mother was preparing for our annual vacation, two weeks at a summer cottage in Northern Michigan. Her major preparation that we were aware of was an intense ironing compaign. Everything we owned was ironed, including sheets and pajamas, as well as all my dresses and my brothers' shirts and pants. In order to pack for vacation she washed everything we owned, ironed it all, and then we were allowed to pack it carefully in the suitcase for the trip. All of the ironing I remember from that summer seemed to take place in front of the television set, now residing for the duration of the Republican Convention on the back porch, as it was more comfortable for ironing than the empty basement.
I seldom iron anymore without thinking of the nomination and election of Eisenhower. Actually I seldom iron anymore.
Up to this time, we had watched TV by standing on the porch at the neighbors and peering in their window. The drawback to that program was that we could not hear the sound. I do not know if these neighbors objected to the presence of four or five small children peering in their front window. They could have closed the curtains, of course, but that would not have advertised so well the presence of a television set in their living room.
That was it. Just two buttons, on/off, sound up or down, channel selection - any one of three. No start and stop, no mute, no menu, you didn't even need a college degree to run the thing. I recollect we did it just fine with only a fourth or fifth grade education. Of course, the buttons never got lost either, being attached rather firmly to the TV itself.
The TV itself couldn't get lost either. It was larger than the one we have now. Not the picture part of course, that was a small screen about 10 inches across. But the box it came in was a regular piece of furniture about the size of a footstool around, and as tall as a short bookcase. It lived mainly in our basement, along with the porch furniture which was stored in the "play" side of the basement for the winter.
We rarely watched TV in the summer anyway, since it was mostly reruns. One notable exception was the summer of 1952, when we watched the Republican National Convention which nominated Dwight D. Eisenhower as the Republican candidate for president. I'm not sure how much interest I took in the proceedings, but we were allowed to WATCH the TELEVISION, so we watched. We also watched the test patterns which were run before the TV station actually started broadcasting, so this may indicate our level of interest.
My mother was preparing for our annual vacation, two weeks at a summer cottage in Northern Michigan. Her major preparation that we were aware of was an intense ironing compaign. Everything we owned was ironed, including sheets and pajamas, as well as all my dresses and my brothers' shirts and pants. In order to pack for vacation she washed everything we owned, ironed it all, and then we were allowed to pack it carefully in the suitcase for the trip. All of the ironing I remember from that summer seemed to take place in front of the television set, now residing for the duration of the Republican Convention on the back porch, as it was more comfortable for ironing than the empty basement.
I seldom iron anymore without thinking of the nomination and election of Eisenhower. Actually I seldom iron anymore.
Friday, February 13, 2009
A Rant about slanted news
I was listening to the news the other night and they had a bit about construction on the I-5 freeway in Seattle. Starting now, rather than in two or three months, they are going to close some lanes at night (11 pm to 6 am or some such), creating traffic problems that this item was warning us about.
Between the lines (and hurray, on another stations newscast later that day) was information about how the city/county/state was going to be spending money set aside for this project now rather than later, creating jobs and providing business for the suppliers for the project. Also the other news cast mentioned in detail the miles of roadway that were going to be smoothed out, the pavement cracks that were going to be fixed and the other work to be done.
In other words, rather than emphasizing the traffic disruptions (and why aren't you home in bed between 11 pm and 6 am), the news could have (and one station did) emphasize the smoother better roads that were being created, the employees who would be getting a paycheck much sooner than expected, the care being taken to make the necessary disruptions as limited as possible, and the fact that the better roads would be available to drive on much sooner than originally expected.
But I expect little from our news broadcasts, unfortunately. They are constantly harping on the 6 or 7 percent of people out of work, rather than the 93 or 94 percent who are working, on the thousands or so who have lost their homes, rather than the millions who still have homes. It's doom and gloom at every turn. Which is why I frequently don't even listen to the news.
End of rant.
Between the lines (and hurray, on another stations newscast later that day) was information about how the city/county/state was going to be spending money set aside for this project now rather than later, creating jobs and providing business for the suppliers for the project. Also the other news cast mentioned in detail the miles of roadway that were going to be smoothed out, the pavement cracks that were going to be fixed and the other work to be done.
In other words, rather than emphasizing the traffic disruptions (and why aren't you home in bed between 11 pm and 6 am), the news could have (and one station did) emphasize the smoother better roads that were being created, the employees who would be getting a paycheck much sooner than expected, the care being taken to make the necessary disruptions as limited as possible, and the fact that the better roads would be available to drive on much sooner than originally expected.
But I expect little from our news broadcasts, unfortunately. They are constantly harping on the 6 or 7 percent of people out of work, rather than the 93 or 94 percent who are working, on the thousands or so who have lost their homes, rather than the millions who still have homes. It's doom and gloom at every turn. Which is why I frequently don't even listen to the news.
End of rant.
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