A Solar Sail

"...a spacecraft propelled by sunlight. Whereas a conventional rocket is propelled by the thrust produced by its internal engine burn, a solar sail is pushed forward simply by light from the Sun. This is possible because light is made up of packets of energy known as “photons,” that act like atomic particles, but with more energy. When a beam of light is pointed at a bright mirror-like surface, its photons reflect right back, just like a ball bouncing off a wall. In the process the photons transmit their momentum to the surface twice – once by the initial impact, and again by reflecting back from it. Ever so slightly, propelled by a steady stream of reflecting photons, the bright surface is pushed forward."  From The Planetary Society's website.

Solstice

My ancestors, the Welsh, called it the "point of roughness".

I heard a story about its connection to Christmas.   That the propect of each day's light growing shorter was terrifying - was the sun going away... it has always comes back, but will it come back this year? Then, each time this year, the process stopped and the next day it reversed.  They'd wait three days to be sure - yes, the days were growing longer.  God isn't leaving us behind.  Calls for a holiday.

Time Travel.

One of those many times when I need it, since I failed to open a window yesterday. 

We think about it lot this time of year, as New Year's Eve approaches.  Through the magic of documentation and "as of" execution, we can often go a little back or forward.  But midnight on 12/31 - that's a tough one.

Only one I know that's tougher, and that's death.  Lots of things can be fixed while the client's alive.  Once he's gone, he's gone.  That Will better be right.

Cash

The gift that everyone loves.

But don't forget The Clovers:  your cash ain't nothing but trash.

"She said this ain't a circus and I don't need a clown."

What's Shakin'

It's a sampler album issued by Electra in 1966.  When music exploded.  Clapton, Winwood, Bruce, Butterfield, Bloomfield, Kooper, Sebastian, Tom Rush... opening a new world.

Advent Calendar 18.

(Just to show I'm keeping track.)

Fire.

The window ignites upon opening.

Your fingers are burned.  Hey.  What's festive about this?

Call it, in a cardboard window, only for a moment, an auto-da-fe.

A Christmas Tree

Which this year poses an ethical dilemma.  I can buy one at one of my traditional nurseries for, I don't know, around a hundred bucks.  But on Saturday I'm over at Home Depot, already a prime suspect in the death of enterprises I like, and there is a very good Frazier fir, eight feet, $36.99.  And a guy who looks just as woodsy and strange as the guys at the nurseries, who's prepared to saw off the bottom stub of the truck, trim up the branches, and run it through the machine that webs it up for the drive home.    (The beard on the guy. ZZ Top.)

So call me evil, and may God save the Republic, but I went with Home Depot.