Yesterday, I printed out all my paperwork associated with my trip. Copies of credit cards, insurance papers and so on. I make a copy of everything important for my grandson to carry with his things. The idea is if your suitcase gets lost, you have the numbers and information in his luggage. And, his information is in my luggage should his get lost. It is a precaution we hope we won't need, of course.

Then I read about the clothing requirements, or suggestions,  as I prepared to select what I would take with me.  In the country, men and women do not wear sleeveless shirts or shorts. Women cover their hair. In mosques, if you do not have proper attire, you must rent it or stay out of the mosque.

In the cities, one can get by with showing knees, or even a sleeveless shirt, but it is still considered rather impolite to go out in public "improperly" dressed. Boys do not typically wear shorts. They wear trousers. I'd forgotten how much importance is placed on what we wear.

It wasn't too long ago that women wore house dresses. The first time my mother came home with a pair of "slacks", it was war at her house. She wore her slacks until they were thin and then used them to make a rug which I still have. She wore house dresses most of her life and only rarely reverted to "pants."  For my generation it was giving up nylons at church and at work. I still had to wear a hat to church as a kid. Not until I met a firebrand teacher in fifth grade, was I allowed to wear anything but skirts and long stockings over long underwear to school. Boys had warm legs, we girls had to freeze. She let us wear "Jeans" which we did at home, by then, on the farm. Oh, how we adored her.

That was reversed when we moved back to Escanaba. We were required to wear long stockings, (no Jeans)  to school for seventh and eighth grades. By the time I arrived at school in the winter, my hands were so stiff with cold, I had to warm my hands before I could open my combination lock to my locker.

Now, though it is inconvenient and seems silly to me, I make it a point to obey the dress codes of the countries I travel in.  Each non-westernized country is so unique and interesting, I’m glad that I got to see the colorful clothing of the Inca peoples of Peru. And the folk music and dance costume of Costa Ricans, and that I learned to tie a piece of fabric that covers a man or a woman from head to toe without buttons to assist keeping it in place.

On our boat, we can only wear boat shoes or socks or bare feet. And, there is no electrical connections on the small boat we sail for a short time. I finally have taken the time to be excited about my upcoming trip, and can enjoy it through the printed word, first.

Today, Jim and I are going to go out and look for wildflowers in bloom and stop and take pictures.

WE ARE OF OUR TIME.

I love museums and enjoy looking back at how people once lived, the tools they used, the buildings they built the things they cherished. As we move around the countryside, we take pictures of what surrounds us that tells it's own tale of how we live, for we are of our time.  An old rye harvester was in yesterday's blog, but look at this modern jack hammer. The job of breaking up cement was once handled by a man wresting with a machine that shook his muscles and bones to extremes.

The fine china of yesterday's blog put me in mind of this toilet from the Nugget Hotel in Reno.
It is as ostentatious and beautiful as the Burnie china.

People lived in mansions, shanty boats, falling down shacks and plain houses. Now, it isn't unusual to find someone living in their car and trailer as this full-time friend of ours does. Full time RVers living on the road, Address Unknown,  are estimated to be a million.  The homeless live in tents, shacks, or as squatters all over the U.S. and we've met some of them, too, especially through Randy Vinings Blog, a former preacher who seeks them out to tell their stories.
http://mobilecodgers.blogspot.com/

Remember those black leather button up shoes of yesteryear?  Obviously more practical then this extreme example of our time. They had extremes in their own way. Extremely restrictive and repressive, especially of women.

Swimwear for men is different, and sports are more varied and adventurous.

We live in a time where long hair is less common than days of old when no woman cut her hair. But, this is of our time, we are accepted both ways.

We express very publicly our sorrows, by nailing teddy bears to a pole near where a child was killed by a car; or place crosses and artificial flowers on the roadside where a friend was killed. We express our joy similarly, with yellow ribbons around a tree, or support causes with bumper stickers or ribbons on the windows of our cars.

We miniature everything, not only furnishings in doll houses, but real scientific instruments, like this robotic mosquito that can inject poison or medicine at a directed target.

At one time pets were domesticated for their usefulness; they herded cattle, helped hunt, sounded an alarm. Today they have even more useful functions as police dogs, in medicine and leading the blind. They've also become essential companions and much loved members of the family and are dressed and coddled as children are. My neighbor, Kristi, refers to them as "fur children".

We are environmentalists. We attempt to keep our world clean, our rivers healthy, our air unpolluted, our resources renewable.  Not that we always succeed, everywhere. Years ago, conservation was the by word; it only referred to conserving resources. We of our time have surpassed that simple goal.

Sculpture was once limited to cement, plaster, bronze or steel. Today, anything goes. A yarn cab represents what creative creatures we are. Inventive, adventurous, creative, joyful, imaginative. We live our lives fully. We are of our time.

COBBLERS AND KINGS

On a day trip to Sonora, I chanced to meet cobbler, (Eric) Rick Hanson who is Swedish. I dropped some sandals that needed fixing and he thanked me with a “toss a mosha” spelled prominently in his antique and tool laden shop as tac sa mick ca. Since this was my first visit, I stood in awe of the many fascinating artifacts covering the high walls and every nook and cranny of the place and politely listened to customers as they chatted with an amiable neighbor. Rick obviously enjoys the sociability of his business and the ability to discuss local politics, or family relations at leisure.
Cobbler shops are almost extinct and a guy like Rick keeps the craft from disappearing. Curiosity made me wonder and I asked a few questions.
“I began working at Gabe’s Shoe Service in the 50’s. I started doing it with him and then decided to open my own shop. I went full time in 1962 and moved to Sonora in 1972. I guess I just like working with my hands. Its fascinating, creative. The people are wonderful and you are helping someone and independent at the same time. But any success I owe to the good Lord,” claims Rick.
As for the antiques, he always liked them. “I’ve got the Permission To Sail certificate of Eric Jacobson, my grandfather who was born in 1833, set sail in 1851. I also have his marriage License to wed Kathren Johanson, dated 1858, a damn yankee, so the family told. I’m named for a slew of Eric Jacobsons, grandfather after grandfather.
“The Jacobsons were at one time jewelers for the King of Sweden.
“Another a grand master carpenter for the ship building trades. I have my grandfather’s Thesis, which was a hand built and hand veneered wooden box dedicated to Olga, his wife. “State side, one grandfather was among the founding fathers of Dayton, Ohio. He settled and farmed there on 100 acres that he bought for $144 and a contract to pay at $12 per month. I have all the paperwork. I also have relatives on my mother’s side that were hell bent for brimstone Lutheran, and that is just how it was stated in some family papers. Fascinating. Fascinating.”
Rick is definitely fascinating and could have told stories all day, but I had to leave.