Dudette and Wichidude came over a week ago bringing Next Generation 1 and Next Generation 2 with them. We had a delightful time. Merriment was added by an item, that they had seen while shopping, and just had to buy for me. (This posting had to await arrival of a new battery for my old camera - the HP camera is the one that I use for close-up photography.)
Thank you Wichidude and Dudette - for thinking of me and for picking such a clever gift.
Googling the brand, I found a nutty review on You Tube (with guest appearance by a somewhat well-known physicist).
The reviewer tells us that The Fizzicist has a taste similar to Dr Pepper. I'm working up the nerve to try it. (I've drunk diet drinks for so many decades that I don't care for the taste of many sugar-sweetened drinks.)
How do you remember your grandmothers (assuming they lived long enough that you can remember them!) I remember two grandmothers, two great-grandmothers, and one great-great-grandmother with great fondness. One thing I do not remember is any of them playing with kids. They may have held a wee tot. They may have read to a young child. They may have let a child help them with chores (gardening, cleaning, sewing, cooking). One thing they never, ever did was to play with a child. Thus, since I learned how to be a grandmother from my own, my grandchild and great-grandchildren surely don't think of me as playful. Today, I will be re-confirming that for them when Hunky Husband and I attend a celebration of Next Generation 1's and Next Generation 2's birthdays at a gathering in their home. (NG1 hit age 5 on the 6th, NG2 hit age 4 on the 12th.)
What will their gifts be? As usual - a check - for money. I always got money from my grandparents (of whatever degree) and that's what I pass on to our grandkids (of whatever degree). How boring. When we received the invitation to the joint celebration, I knew that there had to be something for the boys to open! It won't be games, it won't be candies, it won't be terribly frivolous (engineers are practical people!) It will be small feather pillows from The Company Store, with pillowcases made by Grandma that feature whimsical critters - frogs and toads on the green background - turtles and fish on the blue background.
All four pillowcases are shown in the above photo (the second pillowcase for each pillow is under the opening of the pillowcase containing the pillow) with the edge turned up - demonstrating that each is unique. Each pillowcase has a brightly-colored band on the inside of the opening. Why? For practical reasons. When I have identical items of clothing or linens I always try to even out the wear. How can I do that if I can't tell them apart? The boys' parents may not care; but, if they do, they can tell each item from the others.
The boys still seem to enjoy using the quilts (photos, below) that I made for their births, so I'm hoping that they will likewise enjoy using the pillows and cases.
In case you can't tell (resolution not being great), the main fabric of NG1's quilt features a wizardly cat while the main fabric of NG2's quilt features a whimsical dragon.
My own paternal grandmother taught me to sew in 1943, using her treadle sewing machine (I think it was a Singer, but don't quote me!) The first item that I made was a sunbonnet for myself - the old-fashioned, two-pieced kind with crown and brim being separate pieces. The second item was pajama bottoms for my uncle (who had physical and mental developmental anomalies and who lived with Grandmother) - on which I showed a certain flare for the unusual by sewing the legs together! I learned to hate taking out stitches at an early age.
What I was doing seventy-five years ago: 5/12/1940 Cutting two jaw teeth - on opposite sides
What I was doing fifty years ago: 5/10/1965 Congratulating Hunky Husband's sister and brother-in-law on the birth of their first child (one of the cousins to whom Bogie refers in her comment to previous posting)
What I was doing twenty-five years ago: May 1990 Completing my first month back working at the Little Airplane Company (this time, as an aircraft structures engineer), closing the sale of my home in Albuquerque, painting a bedroom (having moved from Albuquerque into Hunky Husband's home a month ago), preparing to go to Kansas City MO to take my mother to her 65th high school reunion in Sheldon MO
What I was doing twenty years ago: May 1995 Wrapping up my mother's estate (including selling two small houses in Kansas City MO), preparing for sale the small house in Wichita that Mother had rented from me during her last several months (I had lived in the house 1978-1981, Dudette & family had lived in it 1981-1991)
1 year ago: May 2014 Working Baxter Springs KS tornado disaster relief as Government Operations Manager
Yesterday: Feeling ill, cleaning up the house following vinyl floor covering replaced in the upstairs (lots of dust!), tracking storms and communicating with staff setting up at local Red Cross chapter to coordinate response to storms of recent days (and predicted) in Kansas, Nebraska, and Southwest Iowa; picking up Hunky Husband for airport (returning from his 2nd week of FEMA Emergency Management Leadership training at the Emergency Management Institute in Maryland), stopping by the Red Cross chapter offices
Disposition: What one does with a part that does not meet specifications. In some cases, the part can be re-worked/repaired/modified. In other cases, the part must be scrapped. For the latter case, you may download some light, after-dinner reading if you care to: Download Best Practice - Disposition of Unsalvageable Airacrft Parts Rev 1. What brings this to mind is a small snippet of an article that appears in today's Wichita Eagle newspaper.
Boeing said it is still assessing the extent of the damage to six 737 narrowbody jet fuselages resulting from Thursday’s train derailment near Rivulet, Mont.
Investigators from Boeing and Spirit AeroSystems are examining the wreckage.
The complete fuselages were built by Spirit in Wichita, Kan., and were en route to the Boeing final-assembly plant in Renton.
Company spokesman Doug Alder said Boeing won’t decide what to do with the fuselages — how best to retrieve them and whether they can be repaired or need to be scrapped — until the damage assessment is complete.
An email discussion of what would happen to (disposition of) the fuselages took place among those of us who are aerospace nuts, which discussion I don't recall precisely and which I did not save. When asked what I thought would be the dispositioning of the 737 fuselages, I was pretty certain that they would be scrapped*.
– Spirit AeroSystems CEO Larry Lawson when asked at Rotary on Monday whether the 737 fuselages involved in a July train derailment would ever fly
Read more here: http://www.kansas.com/news/business/biz-columns-blogs/carrie-rengers/article5341962.html#storylink=cpy
* I recall telling someone (perhaps in a comment on someone else's blog or in an email) that, as an aircraft structures engineer I was once assigned to lead a team of investigators into the condition of a complete, new biz jet that had not been chocked before the technicians did an engine run-up. The jet had run into/up over concrete stantions, and further damaged when being removed from those concrete stantions that acted as a jet blast fence for aircraft facing the other way. ("They" failed to lift the aircraft at the points they were told to lift!) My recommendation to the VP of engineering was that we scrap the aircraft. This was difficult to do because the aircraft was to have been delivered to a good customer within a couple of weeks, and there were only two more of that model still being built - there were no "extras" with which the damaged aircraft could be replaced. (The company scrapped the plane, recovering $3M of the $7M aircraft price from insurance. The customer was given a sweet deal on a different model.)
One hundred years ago, and again some years later, I worked for The Big Bomber Store (TBBS - see Terms Used by Cop Car). At both times, I was surrounded by 100s of my closest work pals - without partitian of any sort. Telephone sets were at a premium. One set was shared among two to four workers - and - one or two phone numbers were assigned to the whole group in which I worked, meaning that if the phone rang, there was a 1 in 50 or 1 in 20 chance that it was for any one person. Usually, the lowest ranking person in the group (invariably a woman and, in the former instance, me!) had the privilege of answering the ringing phone and pressing a buzzer to alert the workers at the appropriate telephone set that one of them should pick up the handset.
Furnishings: Each worker had one desk, one chair, and a 24-to-30-inch high bookcase that contained two shelves. In addition, each person might have a 2-page/day flip-over calender - if they let it be known in December that they wished to have one for the coming year. We were provided pencils and erasers and, if our jobs required it, a mechanical or electro-mechanical calculator and/or a stack of "in" baskets; but, we were expected to bring our own slide rules, drawing gear, and such.
As I noted above, we were each a part of a sea of desks. Now, a posting on Slashdot.orgsays that was a bad thing.
Posted by Soulskillon Tuesday December 30, 2014 @10:03PM from the not-literally dept.
HughPickens.com writes: Lindsey Kaufman reports in the WaPo that despite its obvious problems, the open-office model has continued to encroach on workers across the country, with about 70 percent of U.S. offices having no or low partitions. Silicon Valley has led the way — Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg enlisted famed architect Frank Gehry to design the largest open floor plan in the world, housing nearly 3,000 engineers within a single room that stretches 10 acres. Michael Bloomberg was another early adopter of the open-space trend, saying it promoted transparency and fairness. Bosses love the ability to keep a closer eye on their employees, ensuring clandestine porn-watching, constant social media-browsing and unlimited personal cellphone use isn't occupying billing hours. But according to Kaufman, employers are getting a false sense of improved productivity. A 2013 study showed many workers in open offices are frustrated by distractions that lead to poorer work performance. Nearly half of the surveyed workers in open offices said the lack of sound privacy was a significant problem, and more than 30 percent complained about the lack of visual privacy. The New Yorker, in a review of research on this nouveau workplace design, determined that the benefits in building camaraderie simply mask the negative effects on work performance. While employees feel like they're part of a laid-back, innovative enterprise, the environment ultimately damages workers' attention spans, productivity, creative thinking, and satisfaction says Kaufman. "Though multitasking millennials seem to be more open to distraction as a workplace norm, the wholehearted embrace of open offices may be ingraining a cycle of underperformance in their generation," writes Maria Konnikova. "They enjoy, build, and proselytize for open offices, but may also suffer the most from them in the long run."
Personally, for the type of work that we were doing, I thought the "sea of desks/drawing tables" worked well. People worked quietly, for the most part; but, if there was anything going on, each of us had the opportunity to pick up information from conversations going on around us. Perhaps it doesn't work well for younger generations who have been bred to have split-second attention spans.
Something else that Bev* Hodges, Chief Engineer, had right was that when we went home at night, nothing was to be left atop our desks and/or bookcases (drafters were allowed to cover their drawing tables with roll-across oilcloth covering, leaving their in-progress drawings taped to the table.) "In" baskets and calendars were left in the seats of our chairs, at night. Most phones were on a 360-degree-swing support, mounted to the side of one desk in a group of 2 to 4 desks. Telephones not so mounted might also be put in the seat of one's chair.
P.S. I should let you know that TBBS did not house the largest sea of desks in which I ever worked. All of the aerospace engineering spaces in which I worked (or that I visited) had the same type of layout. Only when working for the Little Engineering Company did most of the engineers work one-to-four-to-the office. (Fortunately, with that company, I always ranked highly enough to rate a private office. At the Little Airplane Company, I did rate a private office once I made it into management. I fought it at the time I was first promoted into management feeling that I would lose too much valuable information by being segregated; but, my boss was adamant. By the time I had made it to the Executive Payroll, I had become accustomed to not knowing what the Hell was going on! ; )
My great-grandfather fought in the so-called Spanish-American War. His father had been a Union soldier in the War Between the States. Since then, none of my close blood relatives has seen war service. However, I do recall my parents' actions during WWII toward people who were serving. They never missed an opportunity to give a "soldier boy" a lift and my mother went so far as to "adopt" a fellow who was serving in the army, sending him home-baked cakes and small gifts that could travel through the mail. This relationship extended several years beyond the end of the war. WWII ended in 1945, of course. A little over one year later, we moved to Kansas City, Missouri.
Kansas City has a memorial*, downtown, honoring the people who served in WWI - the Liberty Memorial. A crowd of over 100,000 people gathered for the dedication of the site for the memorial in 1921. When construction was completed in 1926, a crowd of over 150,000 people gathered to see President Calvin Coolidge dedicate the edifice (photo, above). Thenceforth, each November 11th, a parade was held through downtown Kansas City, culminating at the Liberty Memorial. In a few of those years, Elder Brother and/or I marched in the parade on November 11th - including in 1949.
November 11, 1949, was a brisk day. Our mother didn't worry too much about Elder Brother who would be wearing a heavy woolen uniform as a member of our high school's marching band (he played baritone horn - a horn nearly as large as he was in those days); but, she worried about my legs' freezing. Although the temperatures were in the 20s (Farenheit) that day, with a little wind, I did not suffer from the cold. I am nearly always warm enough, and marching keeps anyone warm. (Photo, below: Our twirling instructor arranged for Mildred, Judy, and me to march with the band from our neighborhood's Catholic high school - Lillis.)
* From the Liberty Memorial Association's website: "In 2004, the Museum was designated by Congress as the nation's official World War I Museum, and construction started on a new 80,000-square-foot, state-of-the-art museum and the Edward Jones Research Center underneath the Liberty Memorial."
I've posted quite a bit about my own history - not so much about Hunky Husband's. Well...there's much of HH's history that I do not and will not ever know. I do, however, recall that our first contact was in the Summer of 1956.
HH was born in a Yugoslavian enclave across the river from St Louis, Missouri - in Granite City, Illinois. His paternal grandparents (from old Croatia, Yugoslavia) and maternal grandparents (from old Serbia, Yugoslavia) lived just three houses away from one another; thus, his parents (father born in Granite City, Illinois; mother in Serbia, Yugoslavia) knew one another while growing up. HH and his family (parents and two younger sisters) moved to St Louis at about the time when his father opened his first drug store.
HH attended high school at Soldan-Blewett (above photo), being graduated in 1954. Not knowing what else to do, HH enrolled in the St Louis College of Pharmacy. During his freshman year, HH determined that he did not wish to follow the family tradition of going into business for himself; thus, his freshman year was his only year in pharmacy.
Following high school graduation in 1954 one of HH's friends, Nate, had enrolled in the enginnering program at Washington University in St Louis - another, Don, had enrolled at MSM in Rolla*. HH joined Nate, at Washington University (WU - AKA "Washout") for their sophomore year. (A WU building is shown in the photo, below. BTW: WU has an interesting YouTube site.)
At some point, Nate and HH earned their amateur radio licenses.
Early summer 1956
MSM's (now MS&T's) Radio Club call letters are WØEEE - a distinctive call when spoken; even more distinctive in Morse Code: di-dah-dah dah-dah-dah-dah-dah dit dit dit. The call is unmistakable and widely known in the area.
My license is still at the novice level; thus, on 40 and 80 meters (for which the folded-dipole antenna is tuned) I must use equipment limited to an output of 75 Watts (which sounds like a great deal of power these days), with frequency being crystal-controlled, and using Continuous Wave output (Morse Code). I am at the MSM Radio Club shack signing off from a chat with a friend in Arkansas when another ham gives me a hail (in Morse Code, of course!) It is a fellow in St Louis who wishes to get a message to his friend, Don - a student at MSM. Will I get a message to him? Of course, I would!
Later in the summer, one of my on-air ham friends mentions that the fellow in St Louis will be coming to MSM that fall.
At the first meeting of the MSM Radio Club in September, I make my way around to introducing myself to the fellow from St Louis. (He is a bit puzzled - not having known that a woman had relayed his message to Don.) Now I can put a face to the guy!
HH is "going steady" with a woman in St Louis when he comes to MSM and I am "steadily dating" a fellow student at the time. (Sorry, Bogie, it wasn't "love at first sight"!)
Over the year-end holidays, HH breaks up with his girlfriend and I break up with my boyfriend. Each of us returns to campus a couple of days early and we fall into easy conversation of co-commiseration. Nothing more.
In February 1957, I hear that Nate, HH's friend who is still attending WU in St Louis is coming to campus for a game between the two schools. I am intrigued. I have never known anyone with such an exotic name (Hey! Some of us only knew Ronalds and Donalds and Steves and Jims....) I engineer being invited to party with the gang from St Louis. I meet Nate. HH and I end up together - for years and years.