Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

I saw a photograph of a USPS envelope in an online post today.

The photo was supporting a story about the first female postmaster in colonial America. First thought: I didn’t know they had cameras capable of doing such clear, detailed photographs in colonial America. The colonists were more advanced than I thought. (Yeah, that’s snark.)

Second thought, looking at the envelope in the photo, what is v-mail service?

As it was part of the return address for the War & Navy Departments, I figured it was related to WWII, and the v probably meant victory. I looked it up online and verified that. But there was more to the story:

Generative AI is experimental. Info quality may vary.

“V-mail, short for Victory Mail, was a mail service used during World War II to expedite mail service for American armed forces overseas. The Post Office Department officially inaugurated V-Mail service on June 15, 1942. 

“V-mail worked by: 

  • Letters written on pre-printed forms were photographed and reproduced onto microfilm.
  • The rolls of microfilm were transported overseas.
  • The letters were printed again at one-quarter size and mailed to their destination.”

They were using microfilm to transport letters in WWII.

I’ve only been alive for almost 68 years, and wasn’t alive during WWII. In all that time, I’d never heard or seen v-mail service referenced anywhere. Maybe it just flew over my head. I don’t know.

It’s really surprising as Mom was a little girl living in a small rural town in Iowa during WWII. She had brothers who served in the US Navy, as did her friends and classmates. Stories from the fronts transfixed her. I thought she would have mentioned v-mail service. That causes me to wonder if she is aware of it. It’s something to ask her.

What’s more astonishing is that the v-mail service wasn’t original. This system was based on a British service called “Airgraph”. Giving me another pow-pow moment of discovery, Airgraph was developed by the Eastman Kodak Company in conjuction with Imperial Airways and Pan-American Airways in the 1930s.

Pow. I’m knocked down in amazement.

Once again, learning something new and astonishing. It makes me smile.

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: fierce

Friday, October 20, 2023, has risen. Or has it descended? Maybe neither; maybe it’s just there because the calendar said next time Earth completed its spin, this will be the day, the result of eons of evolution of people thinking about time and how to best track it in a coordinated, organized manner.

Today’s weather in Ashlandia, where the streams are low and the mountains are high-ish, looks like yesterday’s weather on paper. Same numbers. Greater quantity of thin white clouds have stolen into our picturesque blue sky fall theme.

The planet’s trajectory and axis have changed things, though. Weirdly, 80 F at this time of year doesn’t feel as hot as 80 F in spring and summer.

The sun rises further to south. Trees and mountains limit the early morning and late afternoon sunshine reaching my house. That reduced direct sunlight keeps it feeling cooler, even though the thermoment says otherwise.

The sun’s angles affect our house in other ways. The night cools faster and deeper. The house doesn’t warm as much during the day. Our interior temperature drifts along at 68 at night to 72 in the day, all temperaturs Fahrenheit. That was true yesterday despite reaching 82 at our house outside and 53 F last night. Not complaining, just noting it all. It is in fact, extremely pleasant and relaxing. Weather like this is one selling points for us to remain in Ashlandia, buy a house, and spread roots.

An interesting time was had in our house yesterday. My wife went to have lunch with a friend and then see Taylor Swift’s concert movie, The Eras Tour. She left at 2:00 PM. I came home from writing at the coffee shop at 2:40. A note was on my desk: “Strong smell of gas in the laundry.”

Natural gas heats our house. We also have a gas dryer, stove fireplace, and hot water heater. She and I both worry about gas leaks. It’s our nature, but when I a child, several homes in the area where I grew up exploded after gas leaks went undetected and untreated.

I went into the laundry. Yep, I agreed with her; I smelled gas.

So, I did all the things I’d been taught. Shut off the gas at the meter. Turned off circuit breakers so nothing could spark. Opened all the doors and several windows to air the house. Then I took my cell phone outside, along with a book. I called the gas company and reported the situation and sat on a chair on the porch and read and waited.

Nice day for such a thing if you need to endure, I thought, enjoying warm sunshine and a cool breeze.

The tech arrived about forty-five minutes later. He went through the house with an expensive gizmo which looked like a huge old cell phone, checking the gas levels, first with the gas turned off, then with the gas turned on. Nothing, he reported. “I don’t smell any, either.”

All clear, then. He left. I turned everything back on and set the clocks. End of emergency, though not end of worry. What did we smell?

I’d ask the tech for his ideas. He basically shrugged. Naturally, I checked the laundry for smells later. Nothing last night, nothing this morning. But it’s the kind of event that plague my mind, because nothing was essentially resolved.

For today’s music, I have Jimi Hendrix playing “Voodoo Child (Slight Return)” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark uncertain). The Neurons started playing it when I was out walking yesterday in a mountain’s shadow. It was very natural. I mean, the song starts, “Well, I’m standing next to a mountain.” Making a transition from standing next to a mountain and walking next to one and back was very easy.

Stay pos, be strong, and make the best of what you can with your day and what the situation provides. I’m off for coffee. Here’s the music. BTW, look at this stage and crowd. So different from many rock star concerts being put on this year, wouldn’t you say? Crank that up to eleven.

Cheers

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