[EDIT] While reading my flist, I ran into a cool post by woggie.
If you feel that the Patriot Act is a serious problem, you might appreciate it too.
Woggie's Protest
Of Spaceships, Silly Names and Almanacs
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I’m not sure how I feel about NASA launching because they have figured out what the problem is. Not because they fixed ( Read more... )

From May 2005 Dicover Magazine ( Read more... )

I was almost 2 months old. GMom was 40. Sister D-- was 17. I must speak to them to see if they remember.
( full article )

( full article )

Now here's an event that should go in the family almanac. I'm going to have to do some research and math to see if anyone we can trace to had arrived in America by 1873. Maybe. Mom was born in '26. That's a difference of 53 years. Possibly grandfather's family. Now I really have to find the Lizzy Novel. (I've got notes about our genealogy in ( Read more... )

This entry will be present in each of my tag groups. (Of course it only truly belongs in "journal tools ( Read more... )

oaksong   mentioned a fantastic new word in his journal today:  petrichor.  I immediately followed the link he provided and snapped up its defination.

Petrichor (from Greek petros, stone + ichor) is the scent of rain on dry earth; more specifically, it is the name of the organic oil that yields this scent. The term was coined by two Australian researchers ( Read more... )

This entry is backdated to June 4th because I want to archieve a news article without consuming my flist page. My entry about the contents of this piece can be found
here
( Read more... )

It's the birthday of the great bluesman Robert Johnson, born in Hazlehurst, Mississippi (1911). He was a bluesman about whom very little is known for sure, though we do know that in 1937 he recorded 41 songs in just two recording sessions. He had two photographs taken of himself at about the same time. Those were the only recordings he made and the ( Read more... )

It's the birthday of May Sarton.

• she wrote, "There were moments ... when it seemed that all one could be asked was just to keep the ashtrays clean, the bed made, the wastebaskets emptied, as if one never got to the real things because of the constant exhausting battle to keep ordinary life from falling apart."

( courtesy of The Writer's Almanac )