The Assem­blag­ist Assembles

Beginning parts deserve posting. This is the major focus area of a larger work. The round mirror needs some work so it will "fit in" to the piece. Most of the objects included in this area of the work are "found childhood" and the remainder came from "Remember When" in Greenville, my favorite store. Oh wait, the bottom right hand corner sewing bits came from a sewing basket bought at an estate auction in Farmville, Michael Cable [auctioneer extraordinaire]. The red bench belonged to a grand piano which I still own and will incorporate into a work at a later date. ... click here to continue reading this fascinating article.


Grind­ing One's Teeth - a memoir

Hol­i­day Inn, 1965.

We took the first two weeks in Aug every year to go some­where as fam­ily. Whirlpool shut down those weeks for main­te­nance and every­one went on vaca­tion then. I guess Fort Smith (and Ben­ton Har­bor) emp­tied out and Labor Flight commenced.

Ann's in col­lege, the 5 of us are almost done trav­el­ing together en masse. This is the trip to meet Sen­a­tor McClel­lan (pow­er­ful but not scan­dalous) in DC (not to be con­fused with Sen Wilbur Mills and Fanne Foxe --"The Tidal Basin Bomb­shell", one of my favorite scan­dals, 1974, when Mills was caught dri­ving drunk with strip­per Foxe in DC, she jumped out of car and over side of bridge to escape) Daddy and McClel­lan were friends from Dad's time on the United States Sen­ate Select Com­mit­tee on Improper Activ­i­ties in Labor and Man­age­ment since Daddy tes­ti­fied years pre­vi­ously dur­ing some hear­ings about col­lec­tive bar­gain­ing and other areas of his expertise.

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Beaufort County, NC

Five O'Clock -- The Hour of Transition

A response* to Ali­cia Schindler's per­sonal essay in the NYTimes [12-​01-​2014] .

Ms. Schindler wrote a blog post about her "aging" father's knack for call­ing just as she began prepar­ing din­ner. [Moth­er­lode: Liv­ing the Fam­ily Dynamic] The post struck a chord with read­ers and, to date, has elicited over 98 comments.

Mom explained it this way: For most of her adult life, five p.m. to six p.m. was the tran­si­tion hour. Daddy came home from work, chil­dren tum­bled in from the yard and sat down to home­work, she began to fix din­ner -- we all tran­si­tioned both phys­i­cally and men­tally from pub­lic life to personal.

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