photography from the Chesapeake Bay watershed by Bill Emory
75 years old and going strong. Florida Avenue Grill.
Generous satisfying portions. Menu. 1100 Florida Ave NW, Washington, DC 20009
I admire this group. Running and smiling at the same time. Headed east toward the River on Market Street.
Watermen have been oystering from the Callis jetty in Town Creek since 1957. Earlier this year the jetty sold. The idea was, the new owner might could provide the watermen a place to work from, continuing a 60+ year tradition. Hasn’t happened yet. Watermen have been told, at least for now, to move on.
The watercraft currently tied up at Callis’ jetty are largely utilitarian. Barges. Can you distinguish them from their land cousin, the dumpster?
Missing the watermen.
Tree sale today.10:00 a.m. to 2 p.m.Location: Thomas Jefferson Center for Historic Plants at Tufton Farm, 1293 Tufton Farm, C’ville 22902
“When we plant trees, we plant the seeds of peace and hope.”
― Wangari Maathai Trees $5 to $10.
There are people in local government. You ask them to do A, and they go out and do A-Z and do it beyond all expectation. Gensic, Mahon, Poncy, Scala are that kind of people. Wish we had such a crew whose total job focus was the urban forest and Rivanna corridor.
Charlottesville Council chamber
Bartholomew Richard Fitzgerald-Smythe worries about the lack of specificity.
All the world’s a stage,And all the men and women merely players;They have their exits and their entrances;And one man in his time plays many parts,His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms;And then the whining school-boy, with his satchelAnd shining morning face, creeping like snailUnwillingly to school. And then the lover,Sighing like furnace, with a woeful balladMade to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,Seeking the bubble reputationEven in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,In fair round belly with good capon lined,With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,Full of wise saws and modern instances;And so he plays his part. The sixth age shiftsInto the lean and slippered pantaloon,With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wideFor his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,Turning again toward childish treble, pipesAnd whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,That ends this strange eventful history,Is second childishness and mere oblivion;Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.— W.Shakespeare
Throw an elbow? Elbowed out of the way. Sharp elbows. Up to the elbows. Tennis elbow.