"Time Enough For Love" By Robert A. Heinlein.

Been re-reading an old Robert Heinlein.  I had forgotten what I loved…and hated about those stories.  His hard science explanations were brutal, probably correct but Lord only of intense interest to particle physicist and geneticist. I re-read “Time Enough For Love”.  Lazarus Long, oldest member of the Howard families and man of many names,  has been retrieved by his loving descendants.  He was near death and determined to complete the act of dying.  There is a very long couple of chapters where they have to explain why they saved him.  He told them he had lived long enough and there was nothing interesting left to do.  If they could convince him that there were more mysteries and things to learn he would go ahead with the rejuvenation.  Story telling time.   He reminisced about one planet where he raised a foundling, Dora until she got big enough to tell him that she wanted him for her husband.  He had surprisingly, fallen totally in love with Dora.  Dora knew he was a long-lived Howard and he decided he wanted nine children with her.   This story was all about leaving the outskirts in a two wagon mule train. The mules were intelligent and Buck talked quite well.  They fought off wild life, nearly died of thirst but made it up and over a rocky pass into a lovely valley.   There they settled.  Only had trouble from people once.  A wagon showed up with three men who turned out to be evil, wicked, bad and dead.  Dora had her many babies, other settlers showed up and it looked like the community was going to thrive.  Dora died at an advanced age and it was time for Lazarus to move on.  I blubbered all over that scene.  There was also the story of the man who became admiral through laziness. A young lad aged 13 raised in farm country loved to read because that meant he wasn’t doing chores.  School ended for him at age 13 and after following the south end of a mule pulling a plow he went into town, lied about his age and enlisted.  The entire story involves his efforts at trying to find more time to read involved disguising laziness as hard work.  Most amusing.  Lazarus had more generational adventures and it got boring, so he settled into a nice ending.  His kids got him partially rejuvenated when they asked him what he thought he might like to do.  He said it would be time travel.  Oh not to the deadly times just to observe some of his favorite places, things and times.  So, they got that going.  He programed his space ship for early 20^th century, Kansas City and wound up there August 1916.  He had intended to visit his family,  He was only four years old at that time.  So Lazarus went as Ted Bronson and eventually met his then family and the most important love of his live and got his arse shot off during WWI.  Now I’m trying to download “The Number Of The Beast” (Deetie and her crew meet Dora) not on Amazon and “Beyond The Sunset” (Mama Maureen’s adventures) not on Amazon.  Also there were a number of transcription errors in the digital copy that RAH would have not tolerated.  So I am off to grumble at Amazon.

 

I remember sewing.

SEWING AS I REMEMBER IT:

So I saw a Facebook post about someone whose sewing machine broke and she was going into withdrawal.  And I got to thinking about Mom. 

I do not remember Mom sewing much before she got the Necci Elna in the mid to late 50’s. I remember the salesman pitching the machine with free sewing lessons for anyone in the family nodding at me.  Little did I know that I would not touch the machine for a good 30 years.  That particular sewing machine came with a knee peddle and all sorts of plastic gears and knobs to make different stitches.  During that time the only sewing machine I ever touched was my Grandma Horn’s old manual Singer sewing machine and the one electric machine provided in my one attempt in the Home Economics class at Parkview Junior High school. More about that later.

Mom’s sewing efforts in my youth consisted of tailoring Dad’s work pants.  One leg was about one inch shorter on one side so she evened up the pant legs.  My dress of choice (by choice I mean Mom’s choice of fabric and style) consisted of shirt waste dresses with a zipper opening on the side or buttons in the front and the fabric was usually Dan River cottons.   Don’t know if that fabric is even made anymore, probably not as it was American manufacture.  Dan River cottons almost didn’t require ironing just a touch up.  And I ironed my dresses and anything else in the basket down to a certain colored towel.  So each year Mom would make me three to five new dresses.  This was usually preceded by purchasing the material and she would prewash it and I got to help hold onto as she stretched the washed material.  That was torture, as I would invariably NOT hold onto the edges adequately as we tortured the material into a roughly oblong shape.   Then she would pin and cut the pattern….and had to try it on for fit and hemming, “Stand up straight! Or the hem will be crooked!”.

Back to sewing.  My HomeEc class taught sewing and the end of year project was, surprise, surprise, a shirtwaist dress.  I worked on that thing for weeks.  Finally I brought it home to be washed as there was going to be a fashion show at school.  Mom looked at the dress, screamed, ripped it apart, sewed it back together to her specifications and I wore it to school once for the fashion show and uh I think something fatal happened to it fairly soon afterwards. 

One dress that I wish I still had and fit into was my eighth grade graduation dress.  It was black and white polka dot cotton with black trim.  The neckline was squared in the front and back with a black crisscross bit in the back.  Very sharp.  Of course it was nothing like what everyone else was wearing and being different is death amongst your peers at that age, so I hated the dress then but in perspective it was rather striking.  I shouldn’t have been such a little shit.

Then there were the quilts:  Mom used to have a quilting frame and C-clamps to adjust the frame.  Occasionally she would sew a quilt and it was a genuine party when she would get the top, batting and quilt bottom all pinned together.  None of these were ever hand quilted, the method used to fasten these quilts together consisted of a giant needle threading yarn through the quilt pieces, cutting and tying the yarn in the middle and edges of each quilt block.  This would take a couple of days and I did like cutting and tying the yarn into knots.  Grandma Horn quilted like this.  Great Grandma Lattimer hand quilted her tops.  Mom kept her birthday quilt top for over sixty years before she put it together and it is a beautiful thing preserved in a special archival box and papers waiting to enhance some of our descendant’s homes.

Permanent Press:  Came into being shortly after I graduated and left home.  My three younger sisters um suffered through endless dresses and all of those left over pieces went into quilts.  Those quilts have held up like old ironsides over the years.  My quilt top is still hanging in there, it needs new batting and cotton bottom so I have more or less archived it to decorate the top of my lovely Waterfall style wardrobe, lovely.  To my knowledge the girls went all natural fiber after an eternity of polyester during their youth.

One of the last things Mom ever sewed for me was my wedding dress in 1970.  I asked her to sew it for me, then I lived in San Rafael, California and we consulted over the phone to Emmett, Idaho.  It consisted of a armless satin sheath with a simple armless lace topper.  I wish I still fit into that.  That dress and marriage did not fare so well.  But it wasn’t bad for a starter marriage. 

When I came back to Idaho, one of the first major appliances I purchased was a sewing machine.  I didn’t want one like Mom’s.  One of my friends who had become a social worker for the state told me the brand used in the state rehab facilities (Husqvarna) so I got one of those figuring if they could use, I could use it.  It has lasted me well right up to this day.  I don’t sew all that much anymore other than to trim a hem and hand sew something needing repair. Go figure.

The weird thing is that over the years, Mom initially started sewing for her entire family as a cost savings because clothes were so expensive and fabric and patterns were cheap.  That has almost completely reversed since those days in the global economy.  It used to be I could purchase fabric, a pattern and sew myself an outfit for twelve dollars.  Now? Not so much.

And when I was a kid there was no such thing as a charity resale shop unless it was Salvation Army and we snooty Berglund’s would not be caught dead wearing such.  However, not too long ago, I shopped a genuine Versace blouse in my local resale shop for six bucks.  Hah! Take that Project Runway!!

And if anyone is interested, Phil has the Necci Elna.
PS: Just in case anyone forgot, all of the above happened with lots of yelling.

August 15, 2015:

I have been re-reading Dune by Frank Herbert.   This was prompted by a Facebook posting all about a fan created DUNE using the original movie with restored cuts etc.   I tried to view it but the video had been taken down.   Hmmm

I first read the book sometime after 1964 when it was first published. Dune won a Hugo award, the first Nebula award and a movie and television series were created based on the book.

Ok, having seen the movie several times I can say that there were some fairly mild liberties taken with the plot.  Only one complaint regarding casting.  Sting cast as Feyd Ruatha Harkonnen was completely off.  Feyd and Usel were secretly cousins.  Sting made a lovely menacing Feyd but the book had him with black hair, lithe, etc. 

Plot points:  The movie implied much more involvement of the Guilds than was actually going on in the book.  Jessica’s part was much more involved in the book whereas in the movie, she was simply the lovely concubine of Duke Leto stuck in the desert.  The old mentat worked both sided of the street in the book.

It seemed that there were some Islamic influences in the book.  Jihad is part of the plot. Ramadan is mentioned and the cry of “We were denied Hajj!” was in memory of three slave pit rebellions on three different worlds.  I wonder if  Frank Herbert ever had a Fatwa issued.

Chani’s part was a bit murky so I will obviously have to watch Dune again.  I’m sure it will be on television some time soon.

Spent the day yesterday chasing primary care providers and specialists.  My FNP appointment was at 9 am.  She took me off Glipizide and will manage DM2 with insulin adjustments to save a little wear and tear on the kidneys.  See her in one month.  Drove to Roseburg to visit with my friend Sue and then toddled off to see Dr. K.  My labs are good, not anemic, see him in two months and he gave me a couple of candies.  He called me "Roycie" and I told him only my father was allowed to call me that but I would make an acception but that he would be a very young father.  He laughed and said he was older than me.  Nu uh! Yep, 72.  Well! Nicely preserved.  Husband stayed home being a bit under the weather.  I need more exercise just simply getting out of the danged house.  So today I shall made the arduous trip to the pharmacy and venture to the DMV to renew my driver's license.  Oy! I have to take an eye test so this could get dicey.

Cool Saturday Morning

I enjoy listening to NRP on Saturday morning, while lying in bed not quite ready to get up and face the day.  Today Scott Simon of the soulful puppy eyes and worlds greatest belly laugh was reporting on various topics.  He introduced Penn and Teller who have worked together now for 40 years.  That is longer than most marriages.  There was an interview with an author who wrote "Under Tiberius" which as near as I can tell is the story of a Roman con man who goes on the road with Jesus.  The author sounded exhausted and cynical and may have hopes of literary prizes in his future.  Another piece was a new album by a lovely young thing whose muse was Nina Simone singing Bee Gee's covers.   Strange.  Some political stuff.  And at the top of the hour I was compelled to leap from my lovely morning snooze to face the day.   No belly laugh from Mr. Simon today.  Dang it.

Haven't blogged in a while, now have new security stuff to march through and most likely forget.
Update on eyes; steady state so far, can read much better although there is a clear area in middle of left eye that compresses print, can read on each side.  This is typical of macular edema.  Hope to dry out soon.  Yesterday I woke about 2 am and the moonlight was just blasting into the neighborhood, really needed to have a fourth of July celebration going on.  It was pretty bright. So ta ta for now.

Insomnia

Dear God: Who are you? You're not Morgan Freeman are you?



I am that I am and it iz whut it iz, although I like Mr. Freeman's voice. In the interest of moving things along we will limit this interview to five question.



1. Did you create everything?




Yes, if you are paying attention that includes everything, all possibilities, and as a result all of the bad things, complaining about things is irrelevant.


2. Do I have choices?



Oh yes that is all covered in free will.



3. Do pets go to Heaven?




Refer back to created everything. Some people simply won't see pets when they go to Heaven.


4. Do you like hymn music?




My favorite is my own Heavenly Choir which has been augmented over the eons by some very talented musicians from now and then and here and there. I have always appreciated the earnest praise from all choirs and have developed selective hearing in self defense.


5. Is there one true religion? 
 

Yes and so are all of the rest.



Then God giggled and the interview was over.