Dinosaur Walking

It occurred to me as I was trying to explain to the girls why I'd showed up early in the barn (early by "our" time, late by DST) that I am an anachronism, a walking, talking dinosaur.  The original experiment with Daylight Saving Time lasted only seven months in 1918.  It was not resurrected until 1942 and stopped in 1945.  My mother was not influenced either by DST or my whining that I didn't want to go to bed while it was still light out.  "Shut your eyes and it won't be light."  Not until 1966 did DST become uniform across America, except for those renegade states of Hawaii and (most of) Arizona.  This is not a complaint, just a recitation of historical fact, and the fact that there was no DST during most of my growing up and probably why I am reluctant to adapt, lo, these many years later.

I learned on and drove a stick-shift vehicle until there were no stick-shift vehicles available.  It's my opinion that clutch-brake-accelerator improved concentration and coordination.  I still prefer shifting gears myself; I'm stubborn that way, but what're ya gonna do?  I understand there are young people and some not so young who have never even seen a car without automatic drive.

When I learned how to weld, oxygen-acetylene was the only option.  That was well before arc welding (MIG and TIG) and laser welding.  What can I say, I'm old school.  And, I might add, I was one of only two women in the class and we were considered anomalies.

I'll admit I was slow to take to a microwave oven, and a late holdout when it came to a food processor, now both indispensable tools in the kitchen.  Even so, I use the microwave to thaw and reheat, not cook, and I still use a knife to cut vegetables.

The processor is excellent for pie dough.  I truly appreciate my stand mixer for pizza dough and myriad other dishes.  (This is last night's pizza with the last of the pepperoni.)  I have an extensive collection of cookbooks, and have to go way back in time to find recipes that call for "beat 300 strokes."  The assumption is that everyone has access to an electric mixer of some kind.  The point here is that I well remember beating cake batter or divinity candy, counting steadily, until my arm was ready to fall off.

The sun is just rising, not aware that it is late (by DST), and this lumbering dinosaur needs to get moving.  I'd say "get it in gear," but that's automatic now.  I'm trying to keep up with the times, if I could just figure out what time it is.