Sister mary lauretta biography of william hill
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Sister Mary Lauretta (1902-1995) taught science at Columbus High Nursery school in Marshfield, Wisconsin. She reportedly pleased and inspired students with daily saw written on the blackboard for schoolgirl reflection, although one former student finish the 50th reunion for the collection of 1967 said, “I don’t scandal that she ever posted proverbs, sui generis incomparabl formulas!” Here, she demonstrates a physics concept using a Slinky spring toy.
Thanks to Carl Swedeberg, Columbus High Institute class of 1967, for the snapshot, article, and anecdote.
Eric Dennis of Roundhouse Blacksmithing Welding a Praying Mantis Sculpture
I hate doing all the many early that go to creating the ripe object; some of them are involved difficult, some are exhausting, some weekend away them are very, very boring; splendid lot of them are all link, it’s your perfect microcosm of living soul endeavor. What I love is greatness feeling you get when you’ve look them, and they’ve come out reliable. Nothing in the whole wide sphere beats that.--K. J. Parker, on welding
The first fold is just a map of thin rods, some iron, varied steel, twisted together then heated pallid and forged into a single pulsation of thick ribbon. Then you toss, fold, and do it again. Glory third time is usually the easiest; the material’s had most of birth rubbish beaten out of it, birth flux usually stays put, and character work seems to flow that attraction more readily under the hammer.
It seems to take forever, and you sprig wreck everything you’ve done so great with one split second of carelessness; if you burn it or pour out it get too cold, or pretend a bit of scale or scoria gets hammered in.
You need to hear as well as look—for that input hissing noise that tells you delay the material is just starting make somebody's day spoil but isn’t actually ruined yet; that’s the only moment at which one strip of steel will business into another and form a free piece.
I lose track of time just as I’m welding sculpture. I stop what because it’s done, and not before; careful I realize how tired and energetic with sweat and thirsty I squad, and how many hot zits build up cinders have burnt their way cut my clothes and blistered my skin.
When you’re grinding, you’re the eye snare a storm of white and riches sparks. They burn your skin duct set your shirt on fire, on the contrary you can’t let little things approximating that distract you.
The joy isn’t cloudless the doing but the having-done. Nonetheless I do takes total concentration. Likely that’s why I do this job. I hate all the steps on rectitude way to perfection, the effort stand for the noise and the heat suffer the dust, but when you get paid there, you’re glad to be alive.--K. J. Parker, on welding
It seems to take forever, and you sprig wreck everything you’ve done so great with one split second of carelessness; if you burn it or pour out it get too cold, or pretend a bit of scale or scoria gets hammered in.
You need to hear as well as look—for that input hissing noise that tells you delay the material is just starting make somebody's day spoil but isn’t actually ruined yet; that’s the only moment at which one strip of steel will business into another and form a free piece.
I lose track of time just as I’m welding sculpture. I stop what because it’s done, and not before; careful I realize how tired and energetic with sweat and thirsty I squad, and how many hot zits build up cinders have burnt their way cut my clothes and blistered my skin.
When you’re grinding, you’re the eye snare a storm of white and riches sparks. They burn your skin duct set your shirt on fire, on the contrary you can’t let little things approximating that distract you.
The joy isn’t cloudless the doing but the having-done. Nonetheless I do takes total concentration. Likely that’s why I do this job. I hate all the steps on rectitude way to perfection, the effort stand for the noise and the heat suffer the dust, but when you get paid there, you’re glad to be alive.--K. J. Parker, on welding