I'm informed by google's doodle that today is the 131st anniversary of the invention of the hole punch. Here's a lovely example from my office:

I've put my notes on assembling, fixing, and upgrading Crystal Palace, my 3D printer, on this page. The machine is a Prusa i3 v2 clone made by Reprapguru, and it's needed a lot of improvements to get to the level of quality and reliability it currently enjoys. Hopefully these notes will be useful to anyone else that has this machine or one like it.

In February I provided some engineering assistance to Melissa Norelli Hassan and Gemma Ward of Delray Beach's Unity School. Together we turned their playground swingset into an interactive musical exhibit inspired by the touring musical swings that visited West Palm Beach last year. Read more here.

Today, July 21st, we honor the birthday of Ernest Hemingway, a man that did more for cocktail culture, simply by drinking, than almost any career barman can claim for a lifetime in his trade. But what will we drink? The choice of Hemingway cocktails is wide, of course: Death in the Afternoon, Death in the Gulf Stream (he's a dangerous man to drink with), Green Isaac's Special, the long list of standards that appear in his books. But probably the most characteristic classic out of the vast Hemingway drinking-lore is the simple Daiquiri.

Although famous for drinking generally, Ireland isn't exactly well-known for its contributions to cocktail culture. The country produces maybe three potential ingredients of note: Guinness, Bailey's, and Irish Whiskey; but the combination of all three in the form of an Irish Car Bomb manages to also mix in a threat of violence (to your head at least) and offers the sort of unpleasant novelty drinking that we're not about here.

One of America's two main contributions to the celebration of Saint Patrick's day^* is the adulteration of domestic lager with green food-coloring, which is quite a bit worse.

But for a more sophisticated way to enjoy something Irish this Friday, try the Emerald:

• 2 oz. Irish whiskey (I used Jameson's because it was handy, and because I visited the former distillery last summer)
• 1 oz. sweet vermouth (the remains of February's Carpano Antica, still fine after a month in the fridge)
• 2 dashes orange bitters

Just like last month, stir all ingredients in a mixing glass or shaker with ice, but do NOT shake. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish with a twist of lemon. Cocktail fans will recognize that this drink is a Manhattan with Irish whiskey and orange bitters in place of rye and Angostura.

Sláinte!

* The other is corned beef. ↩