Sun is shinin' in the sky,
There ain't a cloud in sight
It's stopped rainin'
Everybody's in a play
And don't you know
It's a beautiful new day.
Runnin' down the avenue,(Pant, Pant, Pant)
See how the sun shines brightly
In the city on the streets
Where once was pity,
Mr. Blue Sky is living here today.
Mr. Blue Sky, please tell us why,
You had to hide away
For so long where did we go wrong.
Hey there Mr. Blue
We're so pleased to be with you
Look around see what you do,
Everybody smiles at you.
Hey you with the pretty face,
Welcome to the human race
A celebration Mr. Blue Sky's
Up there waitin' and today
Is the day we've waited for
Mr. Blue you did it right,
But soon comes Mr. Night,
Creepin' over, now his
Hand is on your shoulder,
Never mind I'll remember you this way.
- Jeff Lynne, E.L.O.
Travel. Leisure. Pursuits
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Two Hurricanes: Irene and rum-based
Though I should have a hurricane, since Hurricane Irene was approaching, here's my modified recipe:
1 oz Cruzon white rum
1 oz Pusser's British Navy dark rum
1 oz Old New Orleans Cajun spiced rum
1/2 oz Cointreau
3 oz orange juice
1 oz mango syrup
1/2 oz grenadine syrup
Stir and serve over ice with a small straw
1 oz Cruzon white rum
1 oz Pusser's British Navy dark rum
1 oz Old New Orleans Cajun spiced rum
1/2 oz Cointreau
3 oz orange juice
1 oz mango syrup
1/2 oz grenadine syrup
Stir and serve over ice with a small straw
A look back at DC Quake 2011 before turning to Hurricane Irene ...
 |
| Evacuation on the Mall |
 |
| Fallen top hat |
Headed out with the rest and security officers were getting people away from the building. Saw no smoke or anything, so headed across Constitution Ave. by the Department of Justice and then back to 9th street and over to the Mall where our emergency gathering spot was.
 |
| Empty glass |
 |
| Fallen books at home |
After a while, we were told we could go back into the building and get our things, but the Smithsonian would be closed for the rest of the day.
Headed into the building and walked up the four flights of stairs (thinking about the people who went back up the World Trade Center), got some stuff from my office (oddly the only damage was my top hat fell off the shelf).
Headed with a group of staff to Poste to sit out the Metro crush. Traded stories of disasters past, and then zipped home on the slow moving Metro.No damage at home (just a tumbled bit of bookcase and crooked pictures). Back at work, there was more damage thatn initially thought. The Smithsonian Castles was closed til August 29 while structural evaluations were done and some things were shored up. At the Museum Support Center in Maryland, there was more damage and he remained closed for a few days. At Natural History, there was some collections damage (Bats on the Floor!) and a mess in the Botany library where a number of ranges of shelves collapsed towards the windows (told later by engineering staff that they bounced off the blast proof windows! That makes me feel secure for the next disaster!).
Slide show of DC Quake 2011:
Friday, August 26, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Mobile Service Center, route 6, Cape Cod
A slice of America under one roof!
Martin Kalfatovic
udc793.blogspot.com
<mobile>Sent from handheld</mobile>
Dead End: Puritan Drive, a street sign, but also theologically interesting
Saw this street sign in Brewster, Mass. Seemed to be very interesting from multiple points of view. Discuss!
Friday, August 19, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Brewster Police cruiser
Another officer of our new friends at the BPD attempting to keep Brewster crime free
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
QotD: Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see them hitting
Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see them hitting.They were coming toward where the flag was and I went along the fence. Luster was hunting in the grass by the flower tree. They took the flag out, and they were hitting. They put the flag back and they went to the table, and he hit and the other hit. (William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury, 1929).
Starting a little vacation time in Brewster, Mass. One of the benefits is that I look out right over a golf course (too bad I don't play golf). So this morning, at 6:04 a.m. they were out mowing the grass ("greens"?) and such. Shortly after they finished, I heard the "pock, pock" of the driving. The sound made me think to that wonderful opening scene of Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury where Luster is out with Benjy hunting for golf balls on the side of the course that was the land that properly belonged to Benjy had not the weight of being a Compson crushed down the that which was the being of Caddie and Jason, and Quentin, yes, even Quentin; Quentin that was not even Quentin. That weight, which, some would say was not the weight of being a Compson, but rather was the weight of dirt and blood that was what it was to mean The South at that point in time, or was it truly all times and only that which causes us to rail at the moil and tumult of stirrings, that causes us to think of the tomorrow and tomorrows that exist only to wreak upon us frailties of the todays and yesterday?
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Friday, August 12, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
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