During & After

For fun, let's compare the front and back porches during the renovation (click here), to the front and back porches after the renovation:

Exile No More!

Home, again.

My Family Car is Headed to Jammin' Java

The famous Joe McDermott, he of the kids songs that even grown-ups can love, is playing this Saturday at Jammin' Java in Vienna VA at 11:00 am. Some or all of the Roosevelts are going to zip out there for the show once we have moved back into the Great House.

Not only is Joe an excellent musician (D. Roosevelt and I are likely married because of Joe's old band Grains of Faith), but he has a red guitar, named after yours truly. No Joke.

See you there.

Tentacles

Had dinner last night at Hook, a DC restaurant that has as its, ahem, hook, that it serves only sustainable fish. It was a delightful evening, with excellent service matching well-crafted dishes. Dee's appetizer, octopus grilled and served over, get this, a weed, was particularly well presented (though my camera phone photography apparently needs some work).

On Bunting

I taught B. Roosevelt how to bunt today. We started with the feet (as Pops used to say, wrt tennis, Get Your Feet Right for Jesus). Squaring around. Sliding the hand up the bat. Making sure your hand is behind the bat so that fingers don't get mashed. Feigning a real swing to keep the 3d baseman from sneaking in. B. Roosevelt loved it.

There is something particularly attractive about the bunt. I spent a whole season of little league bunting on almost every at-bat. When B. Roosevelt demanded to learn the bunt, I thought back to that season. Why bunt every time? I was not particularly fast, but in those days it almost always worked. I think it must have been swing anxiety that did it. I didn't have to worry about hitting the ball. Most times I could count on the catcher to throw it away.

So B. Roosevelt, for whom lack of self-confidence is rarely an issue, really wanted to learn to bunt. Once he learned, it was hard to keep him swinging. Though I think the home run he hit and the end may have taught him that a full swing now and again is a good thing.

Why to get HBO (post Sopranos)

Flight of the Conchords, a new HBO show, is hi-larious. Here is a clip from the 3d episode from these two Kiwis. Think Rogers & Clark (Ishtar) meets Tenacious D.

Next Up

Brother G. interviews Michelle Obama. As with his interview of Elizabeth Edwards, I was impressed, with maybe one slight exception. I don't think crossing guards get paid. Watch and you'll understand.

Smokin'

"You ever judged?"

Never have three words so swelled my pride. The questioner was the curled cowboy hat wearing proprietor of the Mighty Midget.

He had been spying from his "restaurant," a tiny airstream cabin in Leesburg from which the best bbq ribs (pork, natch) in NOVA are dispensed. I had been caressing the meat off the rib bones, admiring the color, savoring the spicy salty rub, testing the suprisingly thick sauce, and enjoying every minute that the half-rack was with us.

Apparently he was watching me, and asked those fateful words. "You ever judged?" I told him I was no judge, just a BBQ fan. He described how the judges would go through the same slow eat process (appropriately enough for slow cooked meats). Apparently the judges work a lot with their hands. He told us that the rack we were eating smoked for 8 1/2 hours. Just right, as far as I can tell.

But I'm no judge.

At long last

Nats Win! Nats Win!

Nats beat the Cubs today 6-0. (Would Brose say 6-o?)

Dmitri Young, our All Star First Baseman hit a grand slam that had RFK rocking.

But the best part was that after a long long long long long long time and many many many many missed opportunities, I got a foul ball.

As we walked in, I said to B.Roosevelt that I was mad for forgetting my glove. So when the fateful pop up headed our way, I braved it with my bare hands. It may have bounced off my hands, I may have fallen over backwards into the row behind me, and I may have been caught by the kind folks behind me only to have the ball roll in front of my face as I dangled inches from the concrete. All that was a blur. Alls I know is that I finally got a ball.