Most Liked Lifestyle Blogs (2,470)

I remember the slogan: Cotton, the fabric of our lives. It hasn't died and this morning I see there's a website with that name connected to Cotton Incorporated.
My preference is garments made from cotton. I don't care that it distorts with repeated washings and I'll go along with cotton & rayon blends to control that.

I will admit to some perverse fascination to a Ban-Lon shirt I had in the 1960's that took on a weird smell when washed in bleach. Except for it's resistance to soak up perspiration that shirt got worn every week until the fabric started pilling and it was time to make it to the garbage. Had it been made in cotton, the shirt would have had another life as a rag when my brother and I worked on cars.


The connection about the alcohol and a machine that extracts seeds from cotton hasn't been established in my mind. but, I believe I can deal with that.

Me: I can’t have told you, I had some really good news about (insert topic here)
DD: yes you did
Me: Oh. You didn’t say anything.
DD: I didn’t realize you needed a reply. I was pleased for you.

It certainly isn't just me she 'ignores'. She is a project manager in an international corporation, very good at her job, very efficient, and gets really irritated when colleagues complain she hasn't replied to emails. She was asked to do something, she did it, they wanted a reply as WELL??

I say it's a courtesy to reply and confirms you received the information. She says that's not modern practice. (Yeah? but your colleagues complain?)

Well not sure if I want call living and working, Working without pay. Pay once a month via my parents. I really got start making my books or I feel like time I spent with them makes no sense anymore. I have work on making fabric prints that other thing I trying work on its for Spoon flower. I have image in my head for summer. Hopefully it makes sense other people...

there are some digital ones I want make but I don't know if I can make it. Due to time I must spend on it take some time to work on it.

I humored my dad he could tell anyone makes offers on phone for buying property for 3 million to get back those a**hole near us for selling their houses 1.5 million close by. but that just humoring I don't want the money I could make possible...with books if I have the time comic part that going take find where heck my art supplies went to. I need inspiration and find means to keep illusion alive.

Manga work so hard when you have draw yourself in comic form how sucky.

Being resident California when I said I hate it should say I should appreciate it value, it taught me be very frugal, and live knowing it could be very worst....Pelosi could dub herself queen wait she already did that long time ago when she became politician. She just want get rid of Trump and make official.

And if he pushes in anyway, don't let him make himself at home!

How old would you be, if you didn't know the day you were born? Some people are born old and some would never be old if the calendar (ok, and the mirror) didn't tell them so. They think they are supposed to let the old man in. Nope. He's a state of mind, and he's horrible.

I just listened to Clint Eastwood singing a song with the blog title, because it was his response when asked how he could be starting filming the following week when he was 88, how did he keep going? 'I don't let the old man in'. Like most C&W it's a bit mournful so I haven't included it but the quote above is from the lyrics.

I can't remember when I last did a cartwheel and I'm pretty damned sure I really can't. But just because now when you party like a rockstar it takes a few days to recover doesn't mean you never party again, right? Don't let the old bugger spoil everything that makes life sweet.

For a while CS was a haven for those who escaped the dreary world to laugh, gossip, squabble and flirt. Then we let the old man in. (No, I am not pointing a finger at anyone in particular. I am saying we let in bigotry and offensiveness and let them hold the floor, existing members as much as new ones have let the old man in)

TODAY - don't let him in. And if that feels good, tomorrow too.

I say 'dropping out' for lots of things. 98% of my phone usage is via cellphone mostly to other people using cellphones and there are times where their audio doesn't come through clearly and I'll say "Your audio is dropping out, please repeat"

If I received all the necessary information from a meeting to achieve my goal and the conversation turns to BS, I'll politely thank the person (or people) and announce I'm dropping out to deal with something and excuse myself.

I've been dropping out of my blog participation. There is so much to do at home. My wife and I are spending weekends 45 miles away in Miami doing renovation projects that keeps us busy 2 days a week.

In previous blogs about drones and model helicopters, I found myself dropping out of drones for lack of time. Helicopters were my first love and I get more enjoyment spending an hour a week practicing. They are fully aerobatic, capable of performing loops, rolls and inverted flight. The only problem with that hobby is a loss of radio signal, mechanical failure or pilot error (often called dumb thumb movement) and a model will be dropping out of the sky!

Thanks for reading my blog...

..................... dont be their entertainment.

The video speaks for itself with a educator that 'seems' to snapped.

Put yourself in a position of authority for a moment and take into consideration that this is one of Cape Town's top school for girls..
What would you have done?



In my opinion this is not about race, but more of who is responsible to teach discipline - Parents or Educators?
JMO.

.......................... So many times yes!!

Texas -2017
The old man in Texas I talked to on the phone told me it was his grandfather's. Allegedly his grandfather, a town constable back then, had picked it up at the scene of a shooting back around the turn of the century. Back in those days that meant the grandfather now owned it.

There was some haggling over the price. A true negative was the seller had no idea what the caliber was and that all inscriptions that may answer that had worn off long, long ago. His father had told him he and the grandfather had fired off the last of the ammunition they had for the pistol back when the father was a boy. Then it was wrapped in a rag and pretty much forgotten about for the next 40 years.

We finally agreed upon a $200 price for what was essentially a paperweight or just a curio without ammunition and a little paperwork and a mailed money order later UPS delivered a package to my front door.

Oh, it was rough. The rag they wrapped it in had acted like a wick and held moisture against the iron frame.. Oil and fine steel wool. Almost every vestige or writing had literally pitted away. Still there was no denying what it was. A Colt 'Peace Maker' Model 1873 Single Action Army (SAA) revolver, 1st Generation. Hot damn.



What more could be learned about this 'paper weight'? Only vestiges of a serial number remained, but the number appears in 4 places and filling in the missing numbers of one location was thus easily done. A letter to Colt Firearms soliciting information regarding that serial number was soon sent. Later it was learned Colt had shipped the weapon off to a sporting goods store in Colorado in 1881. At that time the caliber was .44-40 and the barrel was 7 1/2" long.

I confirmed the barrel's ID was still 0.42". However, someone had installed a shorter 4 3/4" barrel. This was not uncommon in the bad old days of the Wild Wild West. I tried a .44-40 round, it didn't fit. Too wide. Someone had swapped out the cylinder for a different caliber. I tried a .44 Special (invented in 1904) but that was about 0.2" too long. Research determined the only cartridge in America in the 1880s that would fit was .44 S&W Russian a black powder cartridge. AKA 11.18X24R mm. A very popular cartridge in both the US and Europe and even Asia. From 1889 through 1905 Colt offered barrels, cylinders and complete firearms in this caliber. In 1905 such items were marked as .44 Special/.44 Russian and both cartridges would fit in the post 1905 cylinders. So mine is an early cylinder type.

Like automobiles and PCs, every few years gun makers and ammunition makers introduce a new model and cartridge, then discontinue support for older models. My problem was both S&W and Winchester, America's two top ammo makers, had not made .44 S&W ammunition since the 1960s.

So I visited a public firing range and from the floor there I collected a few dozen used .44 Special and .44 magnum cases. Bringing them home I shortened them and with some black powder and my bullet mould I made new .44 S&W Russian ammunition.



I am pleased to report the old pistol functions like new. The mechanism timing is perfect and with the new ammunition supply the gun speaks with a flash and a roar as it should.

At first, I was daunted at the thought of living on my own. For the previous sixty years of my life I had no need of the rocket science necessary to operate a washing machine, nor the skilful dexterity necessary to neatly fold a fitted bed sheet. When it came to it, I was relieved to find that what I required of myself wasn’t nearly as challenging as I had feared.

The trick is to not be a perfectionist. I learnt that lesson early on and have stuck to the principle rigorously. Another thing I’ve realised is that lots of chores I always assumed to be essential aren’t always even necessary, and can be dispensed with completely. Ironing is one such mystic art that I do not concern myself with; I find that wrinkled clothes not only match my complexion, they also suit my personality.

Regular cleaning is another concept I have debunked. Working out the frequency at which it should be performed confused me to begin with, but I have refined a strategy whereby I can tell when it needs doing by the prominence of the patterns my daily activities have left in the dust on my furniture. My rule is to do something about it within one month of it starting to bother me. My wall calendar enables me to keep track of how long I have exceeded my deadline by.

Cooking seems to be my biggest problem area. Co-ordinating varying cooking times so that everything crosses the finishing line simultaneously can only be coped with when the variants are no more than two in number. Having no one else here to vent my temper on means I need to avoid losing it, so I try to keep things as simple as possible. This makes maintaining an interesting diet difficult, but thanks to patient advice from a much appreciated source, I feel I am making steady progress. Seldom in my life have I felt more proud than when I achieved my first edible risotto.

All in all I don’t think I’m doing too badly. My daughter was amazed; she expected me to be living in squalor and popping out to McDonald’s every night. I think she’s impressed.