that little box of samples

well i saved it for years, now with the recent move i don't know where it is or if i even have it anymore. i tried to use it in english class to show the kids what seersucker was when the story talked about the man wearing a seersucker suit or what a suit made of serge was like. wasted effort, so i put the box away in a safe place. you know what that means....it is safe from me ever finding it again. but in that box are samples of different types of wool. if i could find it i could drag them out as examples. wool--after being stolen from the sheep--is carded and processed into different types. if you want the material to be long wearing and durable you use the longest fibers to make the cloth. there will be no little fuzzies sticking out all over to make those nasty little pills--hence the finished product will have a "hard" feel. now what to do with all the little fuzzies. our calvinistic heritage really won't let us waste anything. so we weave it togeather to make flannel which has a very soft finish. however, as it turns out, other natural fibers also come in different lengths. the longer lengths of any fabric are always more durable and more expensive. so anyway, what kinds of materials are made from very short cotton fibers?---flannel. confusing. with all the words in the english language you would think they could come up with more specifc words---that is too hard. nah...that is too hard and no one would learn the new words anyway. the kids have it figured out---you just take the old words and give them new meanings to harass the old people.

the exception to the making of new words is in the tech world. for some perverse reason all the techy people find great pleasure and humor in crunching togeather letters and old words to make new words. i have to admit i find the new words fun. this crunching originated--i know because i had to do it, because you only had a limited space dictated by machine architecture to name files. so if you had to name a file quiz for chapter three section one of history--you might name it hc3s1q, and you would know what it was, but it would not be readily apparent to anyone else. the latest crunch words in wired include carbage (carbohydrates + garbage) and Kruegerware (ie- browser-hijacking software that, like freddie krueger, just won't die).

nostalgia, nylons, & denim

there are certain times of day, certain times of the year, even a particular fragrance, that can pull up a memory from eons past. a hot summer day is a day long ago spent vegatating on a beach in air thick with water on Martha's Vineyard. winter is getting stuffed into snowsuits and jackets that make your arms stick out and then walking forever in a nebraska blizzard to the mailbox on a sunday morning to get the newspaper. i always wonder what my parents were doing while my sister and i made the trek. we never got freezer burn or lost so it couldn't have been to dangerous. fall is walking down mapleton avenue in boulder in october when in a weeks time the trees go from golden with a few sugar maple reds to bare branches against the foothills. those memories are real. how is that a writer can make you think that the words you read are your memories? just finished reading that old ace in the hole and all the people and places seem like memories of mine. even though i have lived in colorado and nebraska for years, those places are not texas and oklahoma, although the prairie over the ogallala aquaifer-which she mentions in the book-takes in all those states. but the prairies are different--as different as evergreen forests are from decidious forests. still, it seems like i know those people--those people who are fit subjects for npr even though they don't like npr. that "antique" store that i have been in a million times in denver. that upper room with the special collections. those people who don't let you in their group until.... those crazy little festivals that all the towns have now to somehow give their place a place in the sun and maybe draw in a few tourists. the ending was a little too happy, but we need some happy endings in our lives.

and as for denim and nylons, well, i am not old enough to have drawn on seams for missing nylons during the war, but i have worn seamed nylons with garter belts. cheered when those things went away. pantyhose-what a disgusting name- where somewhat better, but some could squeeze the middle out of you and if you got a run in one leg, well the other leg had to go where the leg with the run went. i cheered when i could wear slacks to church with knee highs, but now i just want to wear plain old socks with slacks, or a long skirt. however, in the middle of the prairie things don't change as fast as on the edges, so i had to go back to wearing nylons to church. i should keep track of how much money i could save by not buying nylons that i could send to missions. could amount to a bit since i have not been able to wear nylons more than twice without wrecking them. most of the time it only takes one wearing. and can't wear the spray on stuff either. checking to see if you have hose on reminds me of checking skirt lenths with a ruler or by kneeling. hopefully, life is bigger and more meaningful than that. yes, it is. and their is the denim thing, too. no denim in church. even though i am older, there is still a part of me that is rebelious and ornery. i have a jacket that is make of broadcloth but at first glance you might think it was denim. i really like it. but, it is not denim--denim is made of two colors of threads, white and blue, woven in a twill pattern, whereas broadcloth is a simple over and under patter. it is possible to wear a jacket that is the same cut as a denim jacket as long as it is not denim. just more picky, picky, picky stuff. i hope no one from my work reads this.

what is there about denim -- for some people---older people, it is the material of the worker and the poor, not fit for high occasions. but in other generations it is considered a statement of rebellion, in others just a fashion statement, and finally in others pretty much nothing. for me it is a james dean thing.

group politics

from the time a person is able to realize other--they are aware of being part of or not part of. some of us create are group, some rush in, others are blocked out. when you have an artifical groups which are to act a unit--how do reconcile those old guard default leaders with the new positional leader? i used to think the smartest and most knowledgeable would be naturally followed. in time i learned knowledge and smarts are not the most important--there is that elusive social skill that allows you to mould people into a team. can it be learned? not sure.

light patterns

a mist clouded all the edges today as i walked back to my cottage from school. small golden locust leaves had thrown themselves in a random pattern across the gray sidewalk--a last bit of summer sunshine whispering goodbye. earlier my class watched as a true southern gentleman loaded his long rifle with powder and fired creating a flash of sharp light and a crack of thunder bringing down to the present an echo of battles of freedom. for better or worse, time is the mist that softens the intensity of those realities.