June 3rd is .....
Egg Day
Anniversary of 1st US Spacewalk in 1965
Tattoo Day
Happy Egg Day, Everyone.
I will be busy all morning so I will be AWOL until at least 2:00.
Have a Terrific Tuesday!
Even as the Soviets racked up one space first after another, NASA was getting closer to the first piloted Gemini missions. Launched by a converted Titan 2 missile, Gemini was the most sophisticated spacecraft yet created. Gemini astronauts would utilize an on-board computer. And they would be able to change their orbit — something no Soviet crew had yet accomplished.
For NASA, Gemini would serve as a bridge between the relatively simple Mercury flights and the awesome challenge of the Apollo moon program.
In just 20 short months, between March 1965 and November 1966, 10 Gemini crews pioneered the techniques necessary for a lunar mission.
They made spacewalks, some lasting more than two hours. They spent a record-breaking 14 days in space — the expected duration of a lunar-landing flight — in a cabin no bigger than the front seat of a Volkswagen. (One astronaut later called the two-week Gemini 7 flight “the most heroic mission of all time.”)
They mastered the arcane complexities of orbital mechanics to achieve the first rendezvous between two spacecraft in orbit, and the first space docking. And they made the first controlled reentries into Earth's atmosphere.
And several spacewalkers had their own difficulties — working in weightlessness was trickier than NASA expected, and more than one sortie had to be cut short when an astronaut became exhausted. Despite these problems, Gemini was considered a tremendous success. It gave the United States the lead in the space race, which was about to become a moon race.
NASA Astronaut Ed White made history on June 3, 1965, when he floated out of the hatch of his Gemini 4 capsule into the void of space. The first American "spacewalk" -- or Extravehicular Activity (EVA) -- lasted 23 minutes, not nearly long enough for White. He later said the spacewalk was the most comfortable part of the mission, and said the order to end it was the "saddest moment" of his life. White was attached to the capsule by a 25 foot umbilical cord. He initially used a gas powered gun held in his hand to maneuver. After the first three minutes the fuel ran out and White moved around by twisting his body and pulling on the cord. This photograph of White's spacewalk was taken by Gemini 4 Commander James McDivitt, still inside the spacecraft.
.
|
I already had my egg this morning before I read this:)
These days I like a plain hard-cooked egg with salt and pepper.
Everyone knows how to make a hard-cooked (not boiled) egg, right?
CORINNA’S GOING A-MAYING.
by Robert Herrick
GET up, get up for shame, the blooming morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
See how Aurora throws her fair
Fresh-quilted colours through the air :
Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see
The dew bespangling herb and tree.
Each flower has wept and bow’d toward the east
Above an hour since : yet you not dress’d ;
Nay ! not so much as out of bed?
When all the birds have matins said
And sung their thankful hymns, ‘tis sin,
Nay, profanation to keep in,
Whereas a thousand virgins on this day
Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.
Rise and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green,
And sweet as Flora. Take no care
For jewels for your gown or hair :
Fear not ; the leaves will strew
Gems in abundance upon you :
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept ;
Come and receive them while the light
Hangs on the dew-locks of the night :
And Titan on the eastern hill
Retires himself, or else stands still
Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying :
Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying.
Come, my Corinna, come ; and, coming, mark
How each field turns a street, each street a park
Made green and trimm’d with trees : see how
Devotion gives each house a bough
Or branch : each porch, each door ere this
An ark, a tabernacle is,
Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove ;
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
Can such delights be in the street
And open fields and we not see’t ?
Come, we’ll abroad ; and let’s obey
The proclamation made for May :
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying ;
But, my Corinna, come, let’s go a-Maying.
There’s not a budding boy or girl this day
But is got up, and gone to bring in May.
A deal of youth, ere this, is come
Back, and with white-thorn laden home.
Some have despatch’d their cakes and cream
Before that we have left to dream :
And some have wept, and woo’d, and plighted troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth :
Many a green-gown has been given ;
Many a kiss, both odd and even :
Many a glance too has been sent
From out the eye, love’s firmament ;
Many a jest told of the keys betraying
This night, and locks pick’d, yet we’re not a-Maying.
Come, let us go while we are in our prime ;
And take the harmless folly of the time.
We shall grow old apace, and die
Before we know our liberty.
Our life is short, and our days run
As fast away as does the sun ;
And, as a vapour or a drop of rain
Once lost, can ne’er be found again,
So when or you or I are made
A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drowned with us in endless night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let’s go a-Maying.
I have a picture of an egg
Painted by a friend
It's what I see to start each day
Hanging there at my bed's end
A day is like an egg, you know
Self-contained within its shell
Filled with energy and purpose
And yet remains so very frail
To free the many options here
A crack is all it takes
The shell turns loose potential
Like the dawn as each day breaks
The fate of either is our choice
The egg ...to hatch ...or boil ...or fry
The day ...to fill with worthwhile tasks
Or just enjoy as life goes by
All of our days, as all of our eggs
Are ours to use, but listen, folks
Beware of how you handle them
Some of them have double yolks!
— Fran C. Crawford, March 1999
.
Nest Eggs
Birds all the summer day
Flutter and quarrel
Here in the arbour-like
Tent of the laurel.
Here in the fork
The brown nest is seated;
For little blue eggs
The mother keeps heated.
While we stand watching her
Staring like gabies,
Safe in each egg are the
Bird's little babies.
Soon the frail eggs they shall
Chip, and upspringing
Make all the April woods
Merry with singing.
Younger than we are,
O children, and frailer,
Soon in the blue air they'll be,
Singer and sailor.
We, so much older,
Taller and stronger,
We shall look down on the
Birdies no longer.
They shall go flying
With musical speeches
High overhead in the
Tops of the beeches.
In spite of our wisdom
And sensible talking,
We on our feet must go
Plodding and walking.
— Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)
.
|
