The duff diaries...part 3...

...baby steps.

I finally got the word from my doctor to start putting weight on my left foot.  S-l-o-w-l-y I am able to stand for a few minutes at a time and over the next few weeks can work up to 10-20 minutes at a time, a few times a day.  Walking unassisted is still a ways off.  Who would have thought a little trip over the garden hose could cause so much misery!

So, the first thing I did was roll myself over to the kitchen window, stood up (I feel so tall!) and stretched and looked outside.  Obviously I have missed Summer and Fall is in full swing with all of its glorious colours.

 Then I noticed the dirty kitchen window and felt a little discouraged.  (I like a clean home).

Then I noticed all the leaves that are starting to fall to the ground and felt a little more discouraged. (I like a picked up yard).

Then I smiled and did the happy dance in my head as I remembered I won't be the one who has to rake those leaves or wash those windows.   Always looking for a silver lining here.

History lesson...

...my hubs collects insulators.  Old insulators that you usually see on the top of telephone poles along railway lines through the Midwest.  I noticed today, while I was dusting, that he likes to line them up like little soldiers!  We do have quite a few and some of them are very unique not only in colouring but also in size/shape.  We have a few that are crackled as though they couldn't stand the heat any longer.

A little history;   *from the Wiki*

Insulators have been around longer than most people realize. The first rudimentary telegraph line was built between Paris and Lille, France in 1793. The need for insulators to insulate the wire from grounding out soon became apparent. There were a number of early experimental lines in Europe and the United States before Samuel F. B. Morse finally developed a fully functional and commercial system using his particular code. He built his first commercial line between Baltimore and Washington, D.C. in 1844.

Insulators were first used extensively in the mid-1840s with the invention of the telegraph. They were necessary to prevent the electrical current passing through the wire from grounding out on the pole and making the line unusable. The first insulators were a beeswax soaked rag wrapped around the wire. They worked well in the dry laboratory but soon broke down when exposed to the weather. The next concept was a glass knob, which looked much like a bureau knob one might still find on antique furniture today, mounted on a wood or metal pin. From this evolved the pin style insulator, which had no threading inside the pinhole. It was cemented to the pin by driving it down on the pin with a mallet on an asphalted rag. This was not a perfect answer because the weather worked on the rag and eventually the insulator would work loose and pop off the pin allowing the wire to contact a grounding surface. Inevitably, however, as telegraph lines traced the westward expansion of railroad lines across the states, glass manufacturers began to create many new designs in an effort to secure a niche in the rapidly growing insulator market.

Thus, by the advent of the Civil War in 1860, original insulator models could be found in both porcelain and glass. While glass was more common from the beginning for telegraph and telephone line insulation, porcelain would later gain a firm foothold as the preferred material for insulating high voltage power lines. Over time, glass manufacturers would produce hundreds of designs; millions of insulators were made of glass and porcelain, then later of rubber, plastic and other composite materials."

Another article speculated the reason for the different colours.  Supposedly the insulators were made at the end of the day with the leftover glass, so if the company was making green glass bottles that day then the insulators would be green.  Most of the ones we have are clear, although we do have two porcelain ones, a brown and a white.  They don't seem to be as sturdy as the glass ones.

Do you have a collection with an interesting history attached to it?

Heirlooms...



...last summer

(it seems so very long ago)

after a visit to his folks house,

my hubby brought home a shoe box.  It seems his mom was 'cleaning out' some

old family heirlooms and thought we might like to have them.

Like???  does she not know me

after all these years!

The best part,

besides her thinking of me,

was that she included a little note

on each item with regards to who it belonged to and where it came from.

Want to see?

this came from Goldie and Vincents home in Huntsville, Indiana

(not sure who they are exactly but this is from my Father-in-laws family) 

this came from my Mother-in-laws grandparents farm on her dad's side.

the note says...

"dad's mom used to set Jello in this bowl out by the big water tank in the pump shed."

Obviously it was well used

and has been repaired many, many times.

here is another piece from the Indiana folk

passed on from

my husbands grandmother's grandparents!

there are a few more pieces and when I figure out which goes with what little piece of paper I will share them with you.

I realize now

just how important it is

to cataloug those things that are

treasures.



Life is...

...much more exciting

under

the coffee table!

what IS in a name?????

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, so it's a good time to take stock of how to take care of our breasts, ourselves and our sisters who are battling this insidious disease.

In honor of those brave Warriors in Pink whom I know and those I have never met, this is for you. Laughter is the best medicine and hope cannot be prescribed in CCs and IVs. No one ever has the right to take your ability to hope away. So, what's in a name? Well, I'll tell you...

BOSOMS - There is nothing sexy about this term. It's Aunt Fanny in a cotton calico dress. These are the giant pillows that little children lay their heads on at naptime. Their two-car garage, boulder holder is most likely a Double D white cotton Woolworth's bra or more complicated girdle-like pre-Spanx contraption. Bosoms are way more than a handful, no longer springy and probably covered with baby powder or enough perfume to air freshen a room.

CLEAVAGE - OK, you're right, cleavage isn't typically a term for breast, but it's a preview, a prelude to a kiss. It's the trailer to the movie. Cleavage shows a little leg, it teases and offers a suggestion and the promise of more. But I had to include it. Cleavage is often preceded by the term "ample" and one customarily "sports" it.

HOOTERS - If breasts made noises, men must imagine they would hoot like a horn with joy. Perhaps that's how this mystifying nickname came into vogue. But alas, like the giraffe on the Serengeti, breasts are silent creatures. The fact that an entire adult restaurant franchise is named Hooters (and their logo is an owl whose eyes are two boobs with nipples) lets you know just how fun AND wise-like-an-owl this slang word is. Hooters connote the sexy librarian who takes off her glasses, lets her bun down and unbuttons her shirt. You go in for chicken wings and beer and end up with a face full of hooters! This is party city baby. If you're hootin' and hollerin' around, this is the term for you. No AA cups need apply.

BREASTS - An anatomically correct term for those globs of fat that sit on our chests. It's more delicate, like a wide champagne glass. "Breast" says classy, manageable. You can say breast in public. Hell you can ORDER chicken breast in a restaurant. It's acceptable without being clinical or denigrating. Breasts are the Limoges demitasse cups of the coffee world.

TITS - This is farm animal territory. It's two steps away from teats, a word that makes me shudder. I picture a cow's udders hooked up to hoses. Tit is a rough and service oriented term. It might also apply to that stage of motherhood where nursing Moms under extreme sleep deprivation believe they may actually now BE Bessie the Cow. And for the men who are too lazy to make their women feel loved and respected, this is the term for you. Good luck getting a home-cooked meal.

BOOBS - This word says sorority girl collegial and locker room cheerful. Boob just sounds fun, bouncy, no strings attached. Boobs don't have brains; they are ninnies, all harmless window dressing. It's a word you can write and say backwards or forwards. And fun, fun -- yes, even men can have boobs too! (Increasingly known as "moobs" which is short for man-boobs) The ambiguously ambidextrous quality of the word makes it a very safe and PC term in public.

RACK - This is flat out a dude's term, most often associated with hunting or butcher's cuts of meat. I think of "rack" as in lamb, the small defenseless baby animal that gets slaughtered at springtime. This is a gun-slingers term but Rack also goes with "rack and pinion steering," making it a mechanical term too. This nickname says "I'm gonna pull out some tools and tinker under the hood to get this baby running." Be afraid. And make sure he washes his hands.

TATAs - Kind of a nice way to messa 'round. This is a breezy, rapper, sing-songy word. It should have a dance step named after it. Even a toddler can say it and no one gets hurt. Tata is white bread and white rice soothing, no roughage or fiber to digest. Moreover, the use of simple syllabic names means you can give wide berth to the more clinical and scary anatomical terms that are just plain yucky (cross reference anatomy of the male sex organ). Among men this term is often preceded by the word "bodacious" for some inexplicable reason.

KNOCKERS - Ouch. This one is physical, the kissing cousin to another painful term "Speed Bags." Not good either, think Hulk Hogan. This calls to mind those perplexing old naked granny cartoons in Playboy or Hustler with torpedo shaped mammaries. I also think nostalgically of National Geographic magazine tribeswomen (pre-internet era porn for adolescent boys.) Knockers say, "gravity has taken its toll." It's kind of a caveman term for men at work--not play. Be warned, this is not Olivia Newton John's cheeky "Let's Get Physical." Nothing warm and fuzzy lives in the land of knockers.

THE GIRLS - This term is female retaliation, a smack down at men who, quite perplexingly name their male organs. You know what I'm talking about here, it's the sheer absurdity of pet names like "Big Pete" "Little Winky," "Carlos" and "Darth Vader." This disturbing custom validates the playful "buddy" relationship many men share with their body parts. The Girls is a non-threatening term that connotes comfort with ones own body. Think of the chick flick Bridesmaids and that take-back-the-night lingo that makes us feel all Helen-Reddy-I-Am-Woman-Hear-Me-Roar. This is also BFF speak, all cup sizes are welcome here and there's no hint of creepiness or sexism. "I'm taking the girls out tonight," means "I'm going to sport some contour." This is what happens when the old college sweatshirt comes off.

In the interest of brevity, I've left out other classics and potentially denigrating favorites such as jugs, melons, hogans, cans, headlights, fun bags, yabbos and gazongas. And I encourage you to chime in with some suggestions of your own. There's no question that the names for our mammaries are as varied, descriptive and nuanced as the women who own them.

So for every friend- sister- mother- daughter- wife- lover- partner- woman who has removed a lump, gotten a scare, lost a breast, had a mastectomy, taken care of and nurtured someone who has brushed up against the evil of "The Big C" - I salute you. Stay in the race, and keep fighting.

sent via email from Helen...thanks boobie!

 

The duff diaries...part two...Dear Wall Street...

..."first they ignore you,

then they laugh at you,

then they fight you,

then...you win."

Gandhi


We are 99%, we will win.  It's time to listen.

The duff diaries...

google images

....the duff, Ive been sitting on mine for over five weeks now.  Thinking, pondering, staring at the four walls (which need painting), counting the tiles, writing messages in the dust and asking all the big questions of life.  You know...the whys, the hows, the ifs.  It's all quite overwhelming if you spend too much time in the pondering.  But you know, every once in awhile you have a moment.  A moment of clarity, of calm, peace, understanding.  And then in another moment...well, it's gone...
here's one that I've stored away and I'm going to share it with you because I'm a good friend like that!

words can change the world by changing hearts

Enjoy this beautiful Fall weekend...I've got another week on the duff but I am choosing to see the beauty in the dust out my window today.  What is out your window today?

Once upon a wonderful nite...

...many years ago
on an evening much like this.
with the cool October skies
and the rain coming down
you and I
went on our first real date.
To a fancy restaurant called
The Cliffhouse.  It seemed like
such a long drive, but
then again, I had no idea
where we were going
or where we would end.

Wide-eyed, nervous and shy
we had suddenly become and
seemed to have trouble finding
right words to say, but then
that's another night and
another song.
The hustle and bustle of the room,
the giddy laughs and formal dresses
of the local Homecoming crowd,
the warmth of the fireplace,
the candle that was tipped over
by our server,
that started our tablecloth to flame,
were no match for the fire
starting in our hearts.
And in the background
and in our heads
all evening long and
until this day...were the
words, the song,
the one that takes me
back to that moment in time
with you...Moondance.