tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39874302011-04-22T00:05:02.719ZMainsailTwoSince the original Mainsail is hosed, here's another. More ranting and raving from your pal, Calico Jack.Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comBlogger691100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1102429318628088112004-12-07T14:20:00.000Z2004-12-07T14:21:58.626ZA year ago today I was remembering the day before, and being really happy.
Today, I'm just tired.
Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1100139372018948422004-11-11T02:15:00.000Z2004-11-11T02:16:12.020ZIn “The Thousand Nights And A Night” a particular lesson becomes clearer and clearer as you go along; that Djinni grant wishes, but those wishes have hooks in them. There is always a catch. Always. Scheherazade was a lovely girl, but a pretty whopping cynical woman. Is it any wonder I’ve loved her all my life? Wishing can be deadly; better to help yourself out of the hole than depend on the DjinnCalicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1098457543582146162004-10-22T15:05:00.000Z2004-10-22T15:05:43.593ZLast night I ran across some scratchpad notes for a musical I began writing about two years ago. I know what you’re saying: “He has no musical ability, so why is/was he writing a musical?”
No idea. I just know I was inspired. Ideas happen at weird times for me-like all the time... Actually, it was looking more like more a play with musical numbers (how do you choreograph an interesting number Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1098389447000811532004-10-21T20:09:00.000Z2004-10-21T20:10:47.000ZOw.
Ow Ow Ow.
Just Ow.
Thank u, move along.
Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1097853294043878212004-10-15T15:13:00.000Z2004-10-15T15:14:54.046ZMaybe I pissed off an old gypsey woman.
Maybe it's my karma.
Yeah. Probably Karma.
I suck.
Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1097849755847819422004-10-15T14:14:00.000Z2004-10-15T14:15:55.876ZJust feel adrift these days. Not sleeping.
Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1097262096335277222004-10-08T18:53:00.000Z2004-10-08T19:01:36.336ZI keep hoping this story ends well.
Boy meets Girl.
Boy falls for Girl.
Two major plot complications.
Boy loses Girl.
Resolution of one plot complication.
Third plot complication occurs-totally unforseen, perhaps a tad melodramatic, but valid in the story context. Authors suck.
So Boy is hanging there.
And I'm working on the ending.
Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1095882406695842622004-09-22T19:38:00.000Z2004-09-22T19:46:46.696ZGot the song running through my head
Last night during ceiling cinema time I ran over some stuff, fell asleep (one hour until my alarm went off), and now I've had this song running through my head all day...
It's from'way back when I was a kid, from my favorite band of the time, and it's a really damned pretty song, but the lyrics...well;
In your white lace and your wedding bells
You look theCalicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1094075412120078862004-09-01T21:35:00.000Z2004-09-01T21:50:12.120ZI'm putting the thought here because it needs to be.
I am an extrordinarily loyal person. I will do my best for those who profess to love me.
But if you betray my trust, and play me for a fool, that loyalty evaporates like water on the sun.
This loyalty of mine is a liability, and it usually leads me straight into being cannon fodder. The latest iterations have once again brought home that I Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1091331396830479002004-08-01T03:32:00.000Z2004-08-01T03:36:36.830ZAmazing set of conversations in the last few days.
And in a bizzare way, they were all excellent things.
Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1086835659912474782004-06-10T02:47:00.000Z2004-06-10T02:47:39.913ZAs our Nation bids a farewell to The Great Communicator, let us take a fond look at This Great Man’s pronouncements:
“You can tell a lot about a fellow’s character by the way he eats jelly beans.” (we can?)
“Now we are trying to get unemployment to go up, and I think we have succeeded.” (Damn straight you did, Ronnie.)
“I didn’t go down there with any plan for the Americas, or anything. I wentCalicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1084223144734262012004-05-10T21:05:00.000Z2004-05-10T21:05:44.733ZI am not happy.
There is so much to be unhappy about.
Bah.Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1081516099185448382004-04-09T13:08:00.000Z2004-04-09T13:12:03.076ZI've been noodling around, of all things, e-bay. Looking at their Mah Jongg sets for sale.
All I can say is "Buyer Beware." God there are a lot of gullable people out there! For the record: Ivory sets are extrordinarily rare. Easily 99.9% of the sets I've seen claiming to be ivory are bone or plastic. Here's a hint: look for veins. Got veins? It ain't ivory. As for "Ancient sets", examine the Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1081273879141750232004-04-06T17:51:00.000Z2004-04-06T17:54:58.700ZGood Christ a'mighty: this has been idle so long it's hard to know where to begin to update: so much has gone on since Feb.
I gotta get back to this....Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1076903965220107062004-02-16T03:59:00.000Z2004-02-16T04:01:58.686ZNothing worse than Schoolhouse Rock for blowing a thought process.Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1076080056917119262004-02-06T15:07:00.000Z2004-02-06T15:09:57.576ZThe sound of Mickey screaming and branches breaking was probably a clue something was going wrong. I was too busy trying to nail the roof back on. Of course, that may have been a sign as well.
We wanted a tree fort. In this day of pre-fab cedar playground sets, the tree fort is a rapidly fading part of Americana. "But in my day" as an Old Fart usually begins these stories, "weren't such thing Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1068006233132114942003-11-05T04:23:00.000Z2003-11-05T04:24:09.606ZWriting a fair whack lately. A new one for "Brushes with Gravity".
Anna's Hill.
The odd thing is how there are two main hills in my memory; Old J's hill and Anna's. Old J's was one of the borders of Dog Patch. Right below J's house was B___'s house- B___ was a thin, pale-almost paper white- straw blonde boy. Always had dark circles under his eyes and amazingly red lips. The circles under his Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1066309267088836022003-10-16T13:01:00.000Z2003-10-16T13:01:07.246ZJust buckets of snot.Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1064591345475863132003-09-26T15:49:00.000Z2003-09-26T15:49:04.990ZThe other night.
I woke up covered in sweat. I went into the bathroom, lights half dimmed, and got into the shower. I turned on the water and felt it impact my face, first freezing cold then blazing hot. I hate nights like the one I had: periods of sleep filled with nightmares of being trapped under an instrument panel with my second crewman groaning next to me-interspersed with wide eyed Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1064374171189278292003-09-24T03:29:00.000Z2003-09-24T03:29:31.040ZAnd then, the mood swung.
The black is chewing on me again. When you close your eyes and look through the lids at the red, so you can remind yourself what the color was, you, my friend, are down.
The poems of Wilfred Owen sing through my brain tonight. What fool left a book of his writing in a sick bay? I held onto that book as a talisman.
PTSD. Shell Shock. Wilfred Owen disappearing on a Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1064329794990354262003-09-23T15:09:00.000Z2003-09-23T15:09:55.043ZOooookay....
Maybe this weekend I bottle beer and cider. Family stuff all over the place.
I'm running low on bottles: hooray!Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1063907858229079192003-09-18T17:57:00.000Z2003-09-18T17:57:37.533ZPhysical therapy for a bulged disc.
Yuck.
Beer and cider will be bottled this weekend. This weather makes me sleepy...Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1063034453393256862003-09-08T15:20:00.000Z2003-09-08T15:21:09.653ZMore brewing!
Well, altbier is now in the fermentor, so, for those keeping track, that’s old ale, a steam beer, hard cider, and an altbier. I’m thinking this is my busy season for brewing!
I still want to make a porter, and also a winter warmer. Later I’ll try a Belgian style or two.
Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1062681918906448162003-09-04T13:25:00.000Z2003-09-04T13:25:18.863ZBegan brewing a cider. Came up with my own recipe and went for it. I still have one fermentor free-what to do, what to do?
I bottled both the old ale and the steam beer, 44 bottles old ale, 36 steam beer.
Also, had family in town all weekend, so I taught them all mah-jongg to keep them happy. Naturally, they turned into Mah Jongg fiends. Oh well, it's better this way. Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1062086005503012722003-08-28T15:53:00.000Z2003-08-28T15:53:25.333ZDryhopped my beer this morning. Bottle monday.
Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1061220016683168802003-08-18T15:20:00.000Z2003-08-18T15:20:16.673ZI know I am taking life too seriously when I start analyzing Beach Boys tunes. Remember “Don’t Worry, Baby”? It really is a pretty song, all about a woman who loves her guy, but geez is he an idiot. See, the whole point of the story is that he’s shot his mouth off and now has to race these other guys.
I guess I should've kept my mouth shut When I started to brag about my car-But I can't back Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1061177763810656032003-08-18T03:36:00.000Z2003-08-18T03:36:39.346ZReligion. Bleah.
Every once in a while I take down one of my bibles, and a koran and talmud. I can't get over the fact that there are female adherants to these faiths. Heck, I'm surprised that otherwise rational, intelligent people buy into this crap. For every gem in these books, written by men mostly, is a spectacular amount of dross. If this is heavenly truth, then I'm not interested in an Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1060720511594023282003-08-12T20:35:00.000Z2003-08-12T20:35:11.573ZOkay. I need a pause button.Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1060611267763351272003-08-11T14:14:00.000Z2003-08-11T14:14:27.740ZSo this weekend I was kidnapped. Drinking took place. Not a little bit of drinking, but, alas, a great deal of drinking.
And then a bomb, of sorts, got dropped in my lap. Not a bad bomb, but a whole mess of Odd bomb. You see, one of my friends whom I was with is going to be a Dad for a second time. The wee one is due in November or so. This isn’t the odd part. The odd part is that he dropped a Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1060366013840870242003-08-08T18:06:00.000Z2003-08-08T18:06:53.826ZEddie Izzard
Comedian Eddie Izzard is guest deejay on Morning Becomes Eclectic at 11:15am.
Will air Monday, August 25, 2003
Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1060311344373720342003-08-08T02:55:00.000Z2003-08-08T02:55:44.170Zhttp://navysite.de/ffg/FFG31.HTM
Her story, and the story of 37 shipmates in the Straits of Hormuz.
http://www.usswaddell.com/History/stark/uss_stark.htm
You’re right, I should be over this. After all, as two highly intelligent folks pointed out, “Whatever” and “Blah Blah Blah.”
But hey, I’m irrational. What does it matter that I ate turkey and mashed potatoes with these guys or walked the Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1060291598332440322003-08-07T21:26:00.000Z2003-08-07T21:26:38.293ZAnd again today sucketh saltwater.
You'd think that billing departments might actually have billing set up.
But you'd be wrong. Oh, so wrong.
Swamped here in Radioland.Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1059757966742723612003-08-01T17:12:00.000Z2003-08-01T17:12:46.710ZYou know, there are days when being a balding, chubby, aging writer is not all bad.
Today is not that day.Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-1059356092573907402003-07-28T01:34:00.000Z2003-07-28T01:34:52.466ZSo here I am again...
Haven't been posting to this as frequently as I probably should. Some stuff to muse on (me, that is-you don't have to if you don't want to).
My life does not revolve around popularity contests. If someone does not like me, for whatever reason, I will not drop to my knees and beg them to do so-that would be silly, pointless and hard on the knees. Just so with my thoughts Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-957736182003-06-18T01:16:00.000Z2003-06-18T01:16:17.723ZThe roaring of a leviathan? The trumpet of an elephant??
The sound you just heard was a certain old pirate discovering one of his nieces is to take sailing lessons at the end of July! Oh Caloo Callay! Let’s see, I’ve danced a hornpipe, fired a cannon salute, drunk a tot of rum, now what else do I need to do? Oh yes-it all again! There’s to be another sailor in the family! And a dam’ sight Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-943422642003-05-14T18:44:00.000Z2003-05-14T18:44:02.036Zhttp://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&cid=624&ncid=753&e=10&u=/ap/20030514/ap_on_sc/fewer_fish
WASHINGTON - Commercial fishing has emptied the world's oceans of 90 percent of the populations of large prized tuna, swordfish, marlin and other fish species that flourished a half-century ago, two marine scientists reported.
The new research based on nearly 50 years of data offers a bleak Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-932534562003-04-25T18:19:00.000Z2003-04-25T18:19:59.153ZWordless at the moment.Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-926936162003-04-16T03:50:00.000Z2003-04-16T03:50:20.716ZAl's Cut.
“Ever been here before?” Nope. We’re in the U.S. Virgin Islands, St. John’s to be precise, or rather about a half-mile off shore at a place referred to as Al’s Cut by the crew, or “Trawler.” The briefing is thorough, with dive highlights, hazards, good advice, and ends with the reminder “This is going to be a drift dive: try not to get ahead of your guides. It’ll be easier to pick you Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-922219762003-04-08T14:19:00.000Z2003-04-08T14:19:25.843ZThe duck of tiredness is upon me again. Sleeep neeeeed sleeeep.....Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-917923922003-04-01T20:45:00.000Z2003-04-02T03:19:12.000ZUnanimity is demanded by tyrants. Majorities are demanded by free men and women.
There is an editorial cartoon that shows a dead US soldier, with the caption “Just one of the many reasons Michael Moore has the freedom to mouth off at the Oscars.”
http://cagle.slate.msn.com/news/War-Media/7.asp
The message is clear: you have Free Speech, but don’t you dare use it. There are those that say we Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-915543092003-03-28T16:44:00.000Z2003-03-28T16:44:02.610ZTHE LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER'S STORY
by
Arthur Hilliar & Cuthbert Clarke (1909)
You want to hear of the bravest deed ever done on the land or sea?
I rather think I can tell you that for it appears 'twas done by me.
It was when I was lighthouse keeper, a year or two back, not more.
The lighthouse was built on a rock, sir, 'arf a mile pretty near from the shore.
A storm for a month had been raging, Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-913863092003-03-26T03:07:00.000Z2003-03-26T03:07:21.530Z am thinking tonight how much the “East” has been a part of my life. My early work life spent in Morocco, Gibraltar, and Spain. It’s almost a magical triangle where Northern Africa and Northern Europe all meet. That was the trigger, but my soul had been loaded earlier with Richard F. Burton’s “Tales of The Thousand Nights and a Night.”
The Bible? Perhaps, but not much; after all, that was the “Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-910580282003-03-20T14:03:00.000Z2003-03-20T14:03:24.310ZHe says it so much better than I can.
http://www.nytimes.com/2003/03/20/opinion/20HERB.html
Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-907476542003-03-15T04:34:00.000Z2003-03-15T04:34:52.716ZSo what is the music of your childhood? If you had an older brother or sister, what did they play then that now, so many years later you feel a certain kinship? For me, it’s ELO, the whole Saturday Night Fever 1976/1977 thing. I think the music we hear early on programs us, makes us look for things. It’s not until we hear a certain type of music that we begin to rebel against it. I remember Hot Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-896431172003-02-24T14:19:00.000Z2003-02-24T14:19:19.780ZDear me, Monday again.Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-895717482003-02-22T23:50:00.000Z2003-02-22T23:50:48.783ZPung of Memory Tile...
“My hand is triplet of red dragon, Triplet of east wind, Triplet nine of wan, pillow of China Moon. Wu.”
I looked at my tiles; a triplet of three of bamboo, a pillow of two of wan, the rest was junk. I tallied the numbers in my head and got a headache. All those zeros! Even with the conversion rate dollars U.S. to Hong Kong; it was still a substantial night’s losses.
ICalicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-890396882003-02-13T16:49:00.000Z2003-02-13T16:49:08.650ZWrap it up and take it home.
Last night I dreamt of dead astronauts.
Old style Gemini-era silver space suits. The faceplates were made of clear gold. The plates were down, so you could not see the faces of the spirits within the suits unless you stared hard at them, and then the faces appeared as if deep in a golden pool, infinitely far away. I wondered what I was doing in orbit, being only a Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-888299372003-02-10T03:42:00.000Z2003-02-10T03:42:30.343ZThere are some phenomena that I will never truly understand; things like the physics of black holes, vertical currents in water columns, and the popularity of Phil Collins in 1985. Those that boggle at the last- listen to “No Jacket Required”. Really, really listen. Yes, I bought the album. This is my point.
Looking through my albums, I find some priceless, some baffling. I mean, Santana yes, Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-886587052003-02-06T18:10:00.000Z2003-02-06T18:10:05.240ZDancing around in my head.
I want to get underwater. I am seriously craving the feeling of water pressure. I need to commune with sea lions. I need to dance with turtles. I close my eyes and I can see the field of starfish at the bottom of Hawk’s Nest Bay, the ripples of waves overhead, making the light a living, moving thing. I want to twist and curl and blow silver bubbles. I want to wing Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-884558362003-02-03T04:58:00.000Z2003-02-03T04:58:13.710ZI've been neglecting my blog shockingly.
Running on empty lately though. My writing has been less than inspired: insipid. I'm turning into a broody artist-gads, anything but that, please. I'm going back through my files, and I can't remember which ones folks have read, which they haven't.
Some writing advice: don't try to write with your head stuffed with nothing. Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-877647542003-01-21T04:05:00.000Z2003-01-21T04:05:56.860ZCúirt an Mheán-Oíche
Tonight’s Irish discussion centered on Brian Meriman’s thousand-line aisling poem “The Midnight Court”. The poem is gorgeous, and very very funny. Oh yes-“naughty” too. Essentially the story is that the poet falls asleep in a beautiful idyllic setting only to violently awaken by a giant naked angry woman, who turns out to be the bailiff for the fairy Queen’s court, and he’s Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-871474092003-01-09T04:00:00.000Z2003-01-09T04:00:30.000ZTired, sore, but fairly satisfied.
Back at Kung Fu tonight. Form and Kihon. I love the self-defence stuff, but form is wonderful. There's something wonderful about keeping control of my body and keeping within set moves. I love it, especially when I can do something well. Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-871248542003-01-08T19:16:00.001Z2003-01-08T19:16:56.396ZAnd another thing: losing my mind has been a natural state for *years* now.Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-871248222003-01-08T19:16:00.000Z2003-01-08T19:16:11.270ZGads.
Just losing my mind. No Big Deal.Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-865964132002-12-27T19:04:00.000Z2002-12-27T19:04:17.780ZWhite Labs "Burton Ale" yeast. WLP 0023.Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-865962842002-12-27T19:00:00.000Z2002-12-27T19:00:31.056ZTime to Brew Again...\
Sunday morning will be brew time for the next batch of Old Ale. Ingredients tonight, brew Sunday.
For those forgetting what is in the Old Ale:
Specialty Grains
0.75 lbs. Dingemans Caramunich
0.25 lbs. Dingemans Special B
Fermentables
6.6 lbs. Gold Malt Syrup
1 lbs. Wheat Dry Malt Extract
1 lbs. Black Treacle
Boil Additions
1 oz. Northern Brewer (60 min)
1 oz. Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-864797302002-12-24T14:40:00.000Z2002-12-24T14:40:46.263ZI can remember as a child the excitement that Christmas brought with it. It was a time when the house would be filled with the smell of cloves and oranges, cinnimon and tea. I remember the scent of the ornament boxes, and the boxes of the other Christmas things-stockings, lights, tinsel. The scent was old Christmas, to be refreshed with the new before all too soon having to go back into the boxesCalicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-864157052002-12-23T02:02:00.000Z2002-12-23T02:02:26.483ZBeen a few days since I posted. I'm looking forward to Christmas, well, mostly, and I think I'm right on the curve. New Year's Eve is the holiday I actually love more, but have been unsatisfied with for a number of years now. Not with the company; my friends are the best in the world- but something deep inside. Odd, no? Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-862342412002-12-18T20:30:00.000Z2002-12-18T20:30:34.543ZOkay, can I just take a moment and like the weather? Okay, thanks.
Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-862022422002-12-18T04:19:00.000Z2002-12-18T04:19:52.730ZEver have one of those days when you knew you had an unpleasent task you had to do, but put it off and off knowing it's just going to get worse?Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-858148932002-12-11T02:26:00.000Z2002-12-11T02:26:02.720ZIt was 45 degrees out, so I went for a walk at lunchtime. I escaped my office, but my brain got me at the corner.
I live in 19th Century London.
We have a government that essentially would have no problem with workhouses, we have poverty, garbage, social strata tension, and a powerful need for charity.
This should be a hue-and-cry for the Real Spirit of Christmas, and properly, three spiritsCalicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-857099672002-12-09T04:20:00.000Z2002-12-09T04:20:53.496ZWhat's your favorite song?Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-856219952002-12-07T02:58:00.000Z2002-12-07T02:58:05.166ZAn evening’s writing exercise.
I sit down at my keyboard. I’ve promised myself I will write for an hour straight, with no distractions save the music in the background. I write a few lines, just working into the groove for a few more paragraphs. My mind goes blank for a moment, and I cast around for inspiration. I think of people I know, and then I find myself thinking of you. Your hair, your Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-856055802002-12-06T19:42:00.000Z2002-12-06T19:42:36.233ZSo we wrote this play...
And now it’s going to play in front of a sold out house.
Eep.
Nothing I’ve ever written like this has ever been performed. I’ve been published on web-sites, yes, performed in public, no bloody way- well, just one song before this by a buddy’s band, and that was eight years ago. Mind you, I am not entirely the author; this is a shared project that I was invited into. Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-854174452002-12-03T05:21:00.000Z2002-12-03T05:21:55.010ZTell me, is something eluding you, Sunshine?
I remember that for a while there I was deeply enamored of The Wall. I’d come to Pink Floyd relatively late-say about 6th grade. By that time, most of my classmates were listening to Sabbath, Molly Hatchet, Jethro Tull…I was still involved in Beethoven, Brahms, and Mozart. And the Beach Boys, of course. I didn’t truly immerse myself until the Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-853791422002-12-02T15:18:00.000Z2002-12-02T15:18:09.483ZAh, suppose it's Monday...and a huuuuge project appears on your desk...Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-853148282002-12-01T02:55:00.000Z2002-12-01T02:55:59.526ZSo today I purchased a Tiffany reproduction lamp, and a black leather chair-think old Gentlemans' Club style (brandy and cigars, not g-string and watered Coca-Cola) .
I'm annoyed that my original Blog seems to be hosed up, but hey, now I have this outlet. This has been a big family weekend, and will continue to be, with lunch tomorrow with the whole lot of 'em. How much would I prefer to be at Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-853144202002-12-01T02:44:00.000Z2002-12-01T02:44:08.626ZFrom the past:
[11/27/2002 10:02:03 AM | Calico Jack]
Some people make life worth living. Lunch is a great meal. These are Universal Truths.
[edit]
[11/20/2002 8:05:29 AM | Calico Jack]
Hm. It would seem that I cannot view my own web page here: but I can edit it. Strange.
[edit]
[11/19/2002 9:28:54 AM | Calico Jack]
"Those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987430.post-853143362002-12-01T02:41:00.000Z2002-12-01T02:41:23.110ZOkay, here we are again. Hopefully this will work.Calicohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17519758946205147530noreply@blogger.com