Monday, October 29, 2007
Congratulations Rockies
Yet, the Red Sox won. The Red Sox are the new Yankees. Money buys everything, and it bought them another set of rings.
The fair weather is over, so I am no longer a Rockies fan.
That is all.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Foward thinking
Preemptive Memorial Honors Future Victims Of Imminent Dam Disaster
Monday, October 22, 2007
Fair weather.
Rocktober!
Various Videos
I once had a job interview very similar to this one.
John Cage was one of the 20th century's greatest composers, and this is greatest work. I have heard the piano version, but I like the orchestral version better. Please watch the video all the way to the end as the commentary is very helpful.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
To Autumn
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

3.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
--John Keats
New Dog.
The new addition to our family is here. He is a dog--a boxer, to be exact. His name is Simon (get it?). Simon was the first choice for a name. We considered the following names (in no particular order)--Abe, Attila, Armen, Andy, Beau, Buck, Biff, Babe, Carl, Crock, Coal, Dude, Duke, Dan, Doug, Demetri, Ethan, Eagle, Engleberg, Father, Frisco, Gaul, Goul, Glen, Gook, Gerrick, Happy, Hoss, Huge, Harry, Hugh, Isaiah, Issac, Ishmael, Iggy, Ice, Indiana, Juno, Jones, Jago, June, Kip, Kyle, Kreel, Lamb, Louis, Longfort, Larry, Maid, Mail, Moby, Milo, Newman, Nigel, New, Nope, Ozzie, Oog, Oslo, Omar, Pan, Pope, Peter, Pablo, Pig, Pisgah, Quail, Quin, Quilt, Osis, Ridley, Romo, Rico, Riza, Rube, Ryan, Soggy, Simple, Small, Suez, Saul, Sigfried, Toto, Tatar, Tutsi, Tiger, Ug, Uranis, Ur, Ump, Vishnu, Viva, Volvo, Vip, Wally, Woody, Wilt, Weal, Weasle, Wooki, Wombay, Xeno, Xula, Yeller, Yak, Yooho, Yolk, Zebra, Zed, Zeus, Zidane, and Zappy. Simon seemed to fit the best. He seems to like us. He seems to like our house. Thus far, he has pooped on the floor thrice, and peed on the floor fifce. He is a neat dog. We are going to have great times together. The kids seem to like him.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Little Gelding
The following lines come from T.S. Elliot's poem 'Little Gelding' from Four Quartets. I remember hearing this lines in a movie once, though I cannot recall what movie. If you recognize it and gave give me some assistance, I will be grateful.
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always—
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Colour, like no other.
Bouncing Balls.
Exploding paint.
Play dough.










