When we moved into our first house we bought two pear trees and two apple trees and planted them in the back yard. Five years later when we moved out they were just starting to amount to something and give a small quantity of...well, small fruit.
When we moved here we bought a peach tree, two pears, and two apple trees and planted on the south side of our front lawn. Whether the water or the light is better I don't know, but these trees have done quite well. The first two years we didn't let them produce so they could focus on growth. This year we let them produce.
By golly if they aren't producing fruit that would make any grocer happy. Our peaches are starting to ripen, and last night my wife gave me some slices from one as a snack. I immediately made a mess when I bit into one and squirted juice all over the place. I've never had a peach that juicy before.
The skin was taut and rosy, and the flesh was just on the edge of crispness, but soft to the tooth. Each bite was exploding with juice, and the flavor was sweet and mellow--and bolder than any peach I've had from a store.
Yes, I'm bragging. We grew that! The first peach I've ever had that I felt could not be improved on by adding sugar and cream or baking in a pie or cobbler.
I really hope we don't have to move, but if we do, that one peach will have made all the effort of growing those trees worth it.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Electronic maps
Okay, I admit it, I play role-playing games. Perhaps that doesn't have the same stigma it used to, but I'm used to down-playing that aspect of my life, as I'm also a religious person who doesn't feel like explaining to close-minded and misinformed people that D&D is not a satanic game. Especially not the way I play it.
Anyway, I'm the game master for my particular group, which requires a fair amount of preparation. Okay, it doesn't really, but I really, really love the preparation part. I even made a map for the fantasy world in which the game is set. I used to have a remnant of a newsprint roll that I would use, so this is a fairly large map.
The trouble is, as most people know, when you fold and unfold a map too many times it begins to disintegrate at the folds and corners. If I didn't do something my map would fall apart, and it would be difficult at best to make a new one.
Fortunately at the time I was working for a company that had a records retention department that liked me. They had a large-format scanner. They let me scan my map one day and made an image file of it. Unfortunately the map was in pencil, and the scan came out very light. It's hard to read anything very well.
This last weekend I got tired of having a near-useless map file and took my photo editor software (not Photoshop, but a cheaper knock-off) to it. Using the faint lines I traced over them with my software, then cleaned the whole thing up, put location names and various other bits on separate layers that can be turned off when I don't want to see them, and generally made it all look pretty good.
Now I not only don't have to carry around a 3' x 4' sheet of paper (which is an awkward size when you're wanting to view something in one small area), I can use my software to print out maps of any scale, or smaller maps of specific sections of the map. In short, it's going to make my job as game master a little bit easier.
Next time I need a map I'm going to save time and draw it electronically. I admit that some things are difficult to draw with a mouse, but for what I'm doing it works well enough. Anyway, I'll leave you with a sample of the finished product. The original map is 5100x3600, here it's condensed to 10% of that size. Revel in (or fear) my geekiness!
Anyway, I'm the game master for my particular group, which requires a fair amount of preparation. Okay, it doesn't really, but I really, really love the preparation part. I even made a map for the fantasy world in which the game is set. I used to have a remnant of a newsprint roll that I would use, so this is a fairly large map.
The trouble is, as most people know, when you fold and unfold a map too many times it begins to disintegrate at the folds and corners. If I didn't do something my map would fall apart, and it would be difficult at best to make a new one.
Fortunately at the time I was working for a company that had a records retention department that liked me. They had a large-format scanner. They let me scan my map one day and made an image file of it. Unfortunately the map was in pencil, and the scan came out very light. It's hard to read anything very well.
This last weekend I got tired of having a near-useless map file and took my photo editor software (not Photoshop, but a cheaper knock-off) to it. Using the faint lines I traced over them with my software, then cleaned the whole thing up, put location names and various other bits on separate layers that can be turned off when I don't want to see them, and generally made it all look pretty good.
Now I not only don't have to carry around a 3' x 4' sheet of paper (which is an awkward size when you're wanting to view something in one small area), I can use my software to print out maps of any scale, or smaller maps of specific sections of the map. In short, it's going to make my job as game master a little bit easier.
Next time I need a map I'm going to save time and draw it electronically. I admit that some things are difficult to draw with a mouse, but for what I'm doing it works well enough. Anyway, I'll leave you with a sample of the finished product. The original map is 5100x3600, here it's condensed to 10% of that size. Revel in (or fear) my geekiness!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
One tent, no instructions
Last year my mother gave us her old tent. She wasn't going to use it anymore, and I figured with three young kids it was only a matter of time before they'd want to go camping. We would need a tent.
This year they wanted to go camping. You must understand that these are kids who freak out if a fly comes near them, so I haven't been eager to introduce them to the wild just yet. So we decided that last night we'd go camping in the back yard first to see how well they'd handle it.
Yesterday morning I dug out the tent to set it up. It's fairly large, a six-person model. The supporting poles were in about twenty pieces. There were no instructions. I'd slept in it maybe once--twenty years ago.
Well, my father shunned instructions, and some of his DNA lives on in me. I decided I could figure it out. The first break came when I realized that the poles were marked with color-coded labels; red, yellow, and blue. I logically deduced that each color group likely represented a single support structure.
From there it got easy, though I went through some trial-and-error in finding out the best sequence for assembly. But I got it up. I don't have pictures, and it's not necessary. It's a fairly standard model, really. The three sets of poles form three inverted U-shapes that attach to the tent itself front, middle, and back.
The tent I wish I had a picture of is the one we used when I was growing up. Now THAT was a tent. My dad, always the inventive penny-pincher, got hold of an old army surplus parachute. With a little sewing help from Mom, he modified that parachute into a tent. It required one long center pole, and then had ropes at four opposing points that could be staked down to pull out the sides. Loops around the edges would be used to stake it down.
We'd lay an old tarp on the ground, roll out the parachute over top of it, stake down the edges, put up the center pole, and then stake down the four corner ropes. There was a slit from the outside to near the center that served as the door, and could be tied shut from inside. When assembled the thing looked like some sort of mutant teepee.
Hang a lantern inside (I think Dad even welded a bracket on the center pole for that very purpose) and the entire thing glowed from within. It was really something. It served us well for many years.
Anyway, our first family camp-out was a success. Next time, however, I plan to spring for sleeping bags and some foam mattresses. We used blankets and quilts, and while we stayed warm enough, it could have been better. And there was a lump that took me awhile to figure out how to sleep around.
But the kids had a ball, and that's what matters. None of them wanted to go inside in the middle of the night. They probably slept better than I did. So who knows. Maybe in another year or two we might try it in the wilderness. Like my brother's back yard.
Oh, and remind me some time to tell you about my engineer brother-in-law and the "Pepto-Bismol Tent". That would be another good one to get pictures of.
This year they wanted to go camping. You must understand that these are kids who freak out if a fly comes near them, so I haven't been eager to introduce them to the wild just yet. So we decided that last night we'd go camping in the back yard first to see how well they'd handle it.
Yesterday morning I dug out the tent to set it up. It's fairly large, a six-person model. The supporting poles were in about twenty pieces. There were no instructions. I'd slept in it maybe once--twenty years ago.
Well, my father shunned instructions, and some of his DNA lives on in me. I decided I could figure it out. The first break came when I realized that the poles were marked with color-coded labels; red, yellow, and blue. I logically deduced that each color group likely represented a single support structure.
From there it got easy, though I went through some trial-and-error in finding out the best sequence for assembly. But I got it up. I don't have pictures, and it's not necessary. It's a fairly standard model, really. The three sets of poles form three inverted U-shapes that attach to the tent itself front, middle, and back.
The tent I wish I had a picture of is the one we used when I was growing up. Now THAT was a tent. My dad, always the inventive penny-pincher, got hold of an old army surplus parachute. With a little sewing help from Mom, he modified that parachute into a tent. It required one long center pole, and then had ropes at four opposing points that could be staked down to pull out the sides. Loops around the edges would be used to stake it down.
We'd lay an old tarp on the ground, roll out the parachute over top of it, stake down the edges, put up the center pole, and then stake down the four corner ropes. There was a slit from the outside to near the center that served as the door, and could be tied shut from inside. When assembled the thing looked like some sort of mutant teepee.
Hang a lantern inside (I think Dad even welded a bracket on the center pole for that very purpose) and the entire thing glowed from within. It was really something. It served us well for many years.
Anyway, our first family camp-out was a success. Next time, however, I plan to spring for sleeping bags and some foam mattresses. We used blankets and quilts, and while we stayed warm enough, it could have been better. And there was a lump that took me awhile to figure out how to sleep around.
But the kids had a ball, and that's what matters. None of them wanted to go inside in the middle of the night. They probably slept better than I did. So who knows. Maybe in another year or two we might try it in the wilderness. Like my brother's back yard.
Oh, and remind me some time to tell you about my engineer brother-in-law and the "Pepto-Bismol Tent". That would be another good one to get pictures of.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Alternate heat sources
This is very cool: using computer processors to heat water for an office.
I can vouch for the heating capabilities of computers. I'm sure the system is not easy to set up and resists moving computers around very often, but otherwise it's a no-brainer. The heat is there. You may as well use it for something rather than having to use up even more energy to remove it.
I can vouch for the heating capabilities of computers. I'm sure the system is not easy to set up and resists moving computers around very often, but otherwise it's a no-brainer. The heat is there. You may as well use it for something rather than having to use up even more energy to remove it.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Vindication of pack-rats
We save stuff. Anything that may prove useful sometime gets stored somewhere. Far too often we promptly forget it's there and go buy something new next time we need it. But every now and then it pays off.
About a year ago we bought some cupboard kits to increase our storage space in one room. The boxes are at least five feet long, two feet wide, and maybe six inches thick. That's a lot of cardboard! We just HAD to save it. In my shed. In the way of everything I need to get from there.
But today they came in handy. I needed to make a set of yard signs. The outside of the boxes are clean white, which is just perfect for high-contrast lettering. So I cut up three of the four main sides and made four signs.
Two of them are two-sided. For those I cut a length twice as long as I needed, then cut part-way through the corrugation on one side to help it fold down the middle. I then cut a slot in the fold, took a couple 2"x1"x4' stakes I've been hoarding from my arch project, put the top of the stake through the slot, and stapled the sign to the stake on both sides.
I now only have half a box remaining in my shed, and four yard signs that cost me nothing to make. THIS is progress! And slight vindication for hoarding.
About a year ago we bought some cupboard kits to increase our storage space in one room. The boxes are at least five feet long, two feet wide, and maybe six inches thick. That's a lot of cardboard! We just HAD to save it. In my shed. In the way of everything I need to get from there.
But today they came in handy. I needed to make a set of yard signs. The outside of the boxes are clean white, which is just perfect for high-contrast lettering. So I cut up three of the four main sides and made four signs.
Two of them are two-sided. For those I cut a length twice as long as I needed, then cut part-way through the corrugation on one side to help it fold down the middle. I then cut a slot in the fold, took a couple 2"x1"x4' stakes I've been hoarding from my arch project, put the top of the stake through the slot, and stapled the sign to the stake on both sides.
I now only have half a box remaining in my shed, and four yard signs that cost me nothing to make. THIS is progress! And slight vindication for hoarding.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Slug saloons of death
Our strawberries have been getting eaten by slugs. We're trying to grow organic as much as we can, if for no other reason than being able to eat berries straight from the garden without having to worry about what might be on them. That means the slug bait is out. But, unlike some of the other organic ideas we've tried to get rid of various pests this year, we have a tried and true solution when it comes to killing slugs.
Beer.
The little buggers-- er, sluggers just LOVE the stuff. We take empty tin cans, usually the 8 oz. size that tomato sauce comes in, but other sizes work too. We bury the cans in the dirt so that a only a small part of the can sticks up above ground. Then we fill them about half-full of beer.
For some reason slugs love the smell of beer, and they'll come from miles-- I mean, feet around to get to it. They crawl over the side of the can, drink it, fall in, and drown. You'll need to dump the cans and change the beer every few days, mainly because slugs in beer turn into something really gross if left too long.
Our strawberry beds are 3' x 13', so we put one can in either end. We may still get a little slug nibblage around the perimeter and could possibly add one more can to the center, but this works well enough. We've had a single can handle a single 6' diameter patch before.
The best part is that the slugs really don't care about quality. Cheap beer works as well as any. They don't care if it's stale, either, so if your beer goes flat, just put in in the garden. After a week or two the slug saloon patronage should drop off significantly. After that you can continue to put some out, or just wait until the slugs start showing signs of a comeback.
Beer.
The little buggers-- er, sluggers just LOVE the stuff. We take empty tin cans, usually the 8 oz. size that tomato sauce comes in, but other sizes work too. We bury the cans in the dirt so that a only a small part of the can sticks up above ground. Then we fill them about half-full of beer.
For some reason slugs love the smell of beer, and they'll come from miles-- I mean, feet around to get to it. They crawl over the side of the can, drink it, fall in, and drown. You'll need to dump the cans and change the beer every few days, mainly because slugs in beer turn into something really gross if left too long.
Our strawberry beds are 3' x 13', so we put one can in either end. We may still get a little slug nibblage around the perimeter and could possibly add one more can to the center, but this works well enough. We've had a single can handle a single 6' diameter patch before.
The best part is that the slugs really don't care about quality. Cheap beer works as well as any. They don't care if it's stale, either, so if your beer goes flat, just put in in the garden. After a week or two the slug saloon patronage should drop off significantly. After that you can continue to put some out, or just wait until the slugs start showing signs of a comeback.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Backyard composters on the cheap
Last year we decided we needed to do more composting. Our gardens could use it, and we certainly have a lot of compostable materials. But there simply isn't a place to put a big pile like we had at our old house. The back yard there was enormous with a small front yard. This house is just the opposite. As the HOA president it probably wouldn't be good for me to put a compost bin in my front yard.
So last year we looked into smaller backyard composters. Expensive little things, aren't they? And if they don't work as advertised, you'll need quite a few of them. So instead I decided to build my own.
I got a 50 gallon trash can and several lengths of 1" pvc pipe. First I drilled three sets of holes in the side of the can, one opposite the other. Then I cut the pipe to lengths the width of the can (with a little overlap). Next I drilled a series of holes in the pipes, and inserted each through the holes in the side of the can, securing them with hot glue. I also drilled lots of air holes in the bottom and lid of the can.
Here's the finished product:
How well do they work, you ask? Well, I'm not rushing out to patent the design. Though the design is intended to get as much air into the compost as possible, it's still a cold-pile composter. Perhaps if we were more disciplined in how we layered materials it would work faster, but I'm not sure.
That said, it does work, even if it's slowly. All the stuff we put in last year was composted by this spring. The top layer wasn't composted, but below that was some pretty good compost. The stuff we've been putting in this year is not composting very quickly. I recently went through four of the cans to get some compost for a tree I transplanted, and only one had very much usable compost in it yet.
Also, if I were to do it again I'd find a better way to secure the air pipes. Hot glue doesn't hold for long in the hot sun with hot compost. Nor do you really want the pipes to stay put permanently. It's good to be able to remove them when you empty the compost out. Next time I'd probably cut them longer and find some sort of clips or cotter pints to hold them in place.
I'm also considering drilling some air holes in the sides of the can, but I'm worried about weakening the structure too much.
The main advantage to this approach is that the cans look much nicer about the yard than an open compost pile, and do contain the smell reasonably well. I suspect that those with better discipline in their layering technique might find these composters work fairly well. But for myself, I have to rate this project only a marginal success.
So last year we looked into smaller backyard composters. Expensive little things, aren't they? And if they don't work as advertised, you'll need quite a few of them. So instead I decided to build my own.
I got a 50 gallon trash can and several lengths of 1" pvc pipe. First I drilled three sets of holes in the side of the can, one opposite the other. Then I cut the pipe to lengths the width of the can (with a little overlap). Next I drilled a series of holes in the pipes, and inserted each through the holes in the side of the can, securing them with hot glue. I also drilled lots of air holes in the bottom and lid of the can.
Here's the finished product:
How well do they work, you ask? Well, I'm not rushing out to patent the design. Though the design is intended to get as much air into the compost as possible, it's still a cold-pile composter. Perhaps if we were more disciplined in how we layered materials it would work faster, but I'm not sure.
That said, it does work, even if it's slowly. All the stuff we put in last year was composted by this spring. The top layer wasn't composted, but below that was some pretty good compost. The stuff we've been putting in this year is not composting very quickly. I recently went through four of the cans to get some compost for a tree I transplanted, and only one had very much usable compost in it yet.
Also, if I were to do it again I'd find a better way to secure the air pipes. Hot glue doesn't hold for long in the hot sun with hot compost. Nor do you really want the pipes to stay put permanently. It's good to be able to remove them when you empty the compost out. Next time I'd probably cut them longer and find some sort of clips or cotter pints to hold them in place.
I'm also considering drilling some air holes in the sides of the can, but I'm worried about weakening the structure too much.
The main advantage to this approach is that the cans look much nicer about the yard than an open compost pile, and do contain the smell reasonably well. I suspect that those with better discipline in their layering technique might find these composters work fairly well. But for myself, I have to rate this project only a marginal success.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Tee-ball tees
Yesterday my son informed me I needed to make him a tee so he could practice tee-ball. They've been playing in PE at school, I think. At first I had no clue how I would do it, but then it hit me. We already had the perfect tee.
We bought a whiffle-bat and ball set a few years ago, and the bat, being plastic, is getting old. The end of the handle came off recently, which provides a nice cupped end that, if the bat were set on end, might be big enough to hold a whiffle-ball steady.
The next problem was how to get it to stand on end. My first idea was to place the bat in a bucket and fill in around it with gravel. One small problem. I forgot that my son would be hitting the tee more often than the ball. The gravel wouldn't hold it in and, once out, was hard to put back. Back to the drawing board.
My next attempt was to drive three stakes into the ground close enough to hold the bat erect. That worked, but it was essentially the same problem. Every time my son hit the tee it would push the front post loose. Scratch Idea #2.
I then realized I didn't really need that front post if I could just keep the tee upright. I grabbed a couple of rubber bands left over from the newspaper and rubber-banded the tee to the back two stakes. Yes, the tee would move when he hit it, but the rubber bands would pull it right back into place. Voila! I present you Thom's Cheapo Tee-ball Stand!
We bought a whiffle-bat and ball set a few years ago, and the bat, being plastic, is getting old. The end of the handle came off recently, which provides a nice cupped end that, if the bat were set on end, might be big enough to hold a whiffle-ball steady.
The next problem was how to get it to stand on end. My first idea was to place the bat in a bucket and fill in around it with gravel. One small problem. I forgot that my son would be hitting the tee more often than the ball. The gravel wouldn't hold it in and, once out, was hard to put back. Back to the drawing board.
My next attempt was to drive three stakes into the ground close enough to hold the bat erect. That worked, but it was essentially the same problem. Every time my son hit the tee it would push the front post loose. Scratch Idea #2.
I then realized I didn't really need that front post if I could just keep the tee upright. I grabbed a couple of rubber bands left over from the newspaper and rubber-banded the tee to the back two stakes. Yes, the tee would move when he hit it, but the rubber bands would pull it right back into place. Voila! I present you Thom's Cheapo Tee-ball Stand!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Databases and homeowners associations
I'm the president of our HOA. I knew I would be the moment I heard the previous president was moving. Not because I'm popular at all, but because I tend to volunteer for things like that. And because no one else in the neighborhood was likely to step up.
And I was right. I went to the meeting and there were five other people. They saw me approach and declared me president on the spot. They'd all be deathly worried one of them would have to take it. I didn't say no, and that's all it took.
On the bright side, there was someone there willing to be my vice president as long as he didn't have to be president. He's more than happy to be the "heavy" as far as collecting late dues and enforcing the CC&Rs. Great! Perfect, even! I'm more than happy to be the leader/administrator.
And being the tinkerer that I am, I immediately set to work organizing the records. The previous president had used his Outlook contacts to keep all the homeowners' information. He gave me a printout of his address book when he moved. I knew pretty quickly that wouldn't work for me. And, what's more, spreadsheets probably wouldn't cut it, either. And that's saying something. I'm a spreadsheet fiend.
Nope, it was time to discover Microsoft Access. Not quite a real database, not quite a real development environment, it is nonetheless sufficient I've found. I'm able to track who owns each home, who manages the property, and whether they've paid dues in recent history. I've got queries and reports set up to print out address labels for everyone or for overdue dues, kick out an email list (which reminds me, I've got to update it from the latest mail daemon failure notice), give my VP his "hit list", or provide a list of rental properties.
It's a bit kludgey, and the interface is not entirely seamless, but it works quite nicely. I'm rather pleased with it and with my growing Access skills. And heaven help the next president if they don't have Access. They'll get a stack of reports a foot thick. Mwah ha ha ha....!
And I was right. I went to the meeting and there were five other people. They saw me approach and declared me president on the spot. They'd all be deathly worried one of them would have to take it. I didn't say no, and that's all it took.
On the bright side, there was someone there willing to be my vice president as long as he didn't have to be president. He's more than happy to be the "heavy" as far as collecting late dues and enforcing the CC&Rs. Great! Perfect, even! I'm more than happy to be the leader/administrator.
And being the tinkerer that I am, I immediately set to work organizing the records. The previous president had used his Outlook contacts to keep all the homeowners' information. He gave me a printout of his address book when he moved. I knew pretty quickly that wouldn't work for me. And, what's more, spreadsheets probably wouldn't cut it, either. And that's saying something. I'm a spreadsheet fiend.
Nope, it was time to discover Microsoft Access. Not quite a real database, not quite a real development environment, it is nonetheless sufficient I've found. I'm able to track who owns each home, who manages the property, and whether they've paid dues in recent history. I've got queries and reports set up to print out address labels for everyone or for overdue dues, kick out an email list (which reminds me, I've got to update it from the latest mail daemon failure notice), give my VP his "hit list", or provide a list of rental properties.
It's a bit kludgey, and the interface is not entirely seamless, but it works quite nicely. I'm rather pleased with it and with my growing Access skills. And heaven help the next president if they don't have Access. They'll get a stack of reports a foot thick. Mwah ha ha ha....!
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Wrestling with the Internet
I've been intending to get serious about starting an online blog/forum for some time now. I'm still not there yet, but I'm getting closer. It would be so much easier if I weren't on a shoestring (shoethread?) budget. I could just pay for web hosting, hire a developer, and set the darn thing up already. But instead I have to find the cheapest way I can.
That's why I ended up spending the better part of the morning today trying to figure out how to link up a blogspot blog with an existing domain of mine so that you can read the blog on the domain without ever leaving it. I finally figured it out. And it felt good.
The next phase, then, is to figure out how to take it the other direction and redirect my domain to the blogspot blog. It will hopefully be easier, actually. But the trick will then become how to build a reasonably good and flexible website using only blog architecture. A puzzlement!
That's why I ended up spending the better part of the morning today trying to figure out how to link up a blogspot blog with an existing domain of mine so that you can read the blog on the domain without ever leaving it. I finally figured it out. And it felt good.
The next phase, then, is to figure out how to take it the other direction and redirect my domain to the blogspot blog. It will hopefully be easier, actually. But the trick will then become how to build a reasonably good and flexible website using only blog architecture. A puzzlement!
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
New Writing Gig: Examiner.com
Examiner.com is a Clarity Media Group venture that leverages local writers in 60 major markets across the US to provide local, expert content. I've applied and been accepted as the Boise Business Strategies Examiner.
My debut article can be found here. Most Boiseans are familiar with Metro Express Car Wash by now, but I look a little deeper into how they use their electronic sign as an entry point to get people into their online marketing.
So take a look if you like. I should be posting something every few days.
My debut article can be found here. Most Boiseans are familiar with Metro Express Car Wash by now, but I look a little deeper into how they use their electronic sign as an entry point to get people into their online marketing.
So take a look if you like. I should be posting something every few days.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Top 10 Nerf Guns
Okay, this is technically not about making things, but then don't try and tell me that the designers who made these didn't have fun.
Just looking at these makes me want to buy a couple of these and have a gunfight with my sister. Yes, I said sister. I have an older sister who at first frowned upon such things until we convinced her to play Risk with us one day. That started her on a journey to the Dark Side, and within a few years she and I would be having some rip-roaring squirt gun and rubber-band fights through the house.
Hmmmm.... family reunion coming up this summer. I don't think I could get her to try airsoft (not sure I'd try it either, actually), but perhaps she'd go for some Nerf.
Just looking at these makes me want to buy a couple of these and have a gunfight with my sister. Yes, I said sister. I have an older sister who at first frowned upon such things until we convinced her to play Risk with us one day. That started her on a journey to the Dark Side, and within a few years she and I would be having some rip-roaring squirt gun and rubber-band fights through the house.
Hmmmm.... family reunion coming up this summer. I don't think I could get her to try airsoft (not sure I'd try it either, actually), but perhaps she'd go for some Nerf.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
The Lost Art of Canning
My parents both came from hearty farm stock, and so self-sufficiency was always a priority. Preserving (canning, we called it) fruits, vegetables, and jams was just part of the yearly cycle. Applesauce, tomatoes, pears, peaches, beans, corn, carrots, pickles, grape juice...we did it all at one point or another.
Fall usually meant canning season, and for weeks at a time Mom would be busy canning boxes and baskets of produce, bought in bulk or raised in our garden. My job was usually scalding the peaches or tomatoes so mom could peel them easier. I got pretty good at it, and it was certainly better than some jobs we could get stuck with. I also spent a decent amount of time sorting fruit, as I recall.
My favorite memory of canning is "jam scum". Whenever Mom made jam she'd have to boil the solution, which created foam on the top. She'd have to skim the foam off before she put the solution into the jars, and after a full batch she'd get a fairly good container of jam scum. We'd come along with bread and butter, and spread some scum across it and eat it. Delightful! Especially on those occasions when Mom made a batch of home made bread, warm from the oven.
Fresh bread, butter, and jam scum - that's comfort food, I tell you.
As for unpleasant memories, there was the time when for some reason I thought Mom had been canning fruit when she'd actually been canning vegetables. She'd left a container out full of what I thought was sugar. She'd also left a teaspoon next to it, so I came along, grabbed a spoonful of sugar and popped it in my mouth. Except it was salt. I nearly threw up right there, and spent the next few minutes retching over the sink, trying to rinse the taste out of my mouth.
Today I'd say "serves me right."
Now that I'm out on my own I've tried some canning. It's a little tough with young kids around, so we haven't dont much, but the pear-sauce we made once turned out pretty nice.
Anyway, someone I work with is starting a website devoted to the "ancient art" of canning. It's a good resource, both for how-to's and, for people like me, memories.
Check out www.countryhomecanning.com sometime. And tell 'em Thom sent ya'.
Fall usually meant canning season, and for weeks at a time Mom would be busy canning boxes and baskets of produce, bought in bulk or raised in our garden. My job was usually scalding the peaches or tomatoes so mom could peel them easier. I got pretty good at it, and it was certainly better than some jobs we could get stuck with. I also spent a decent amount of time sorting fruit, as I recall.
My favorite memory of canning is "jam scum". Whenever Mom made jam she'd have to boil the solution, which created foam on the top. She'd have to skim the foam off before she put the solution into the jars, and after a full batch she'd get a fairly good container of jam scum. We'd come along with bread and butter, and spread some scum across it and eat it. Delightful! Especially on those occasions when Mom made a batch of home made bread, warm from the oven.
Fresh bread, butter, and jam scum - that's comfort food, I tell you.
As for unpleasant memories, there was the time when for some reason I thought Mom had been canning fruit when she'd actually been canning vegetables. She'd left a container out full of what I thought was sugar. She'd also left a teaspoon next to it, so I came along, grabbed a spoonful of sugar and popped it in my mouth. Except it was salt. I nearly threw up right there, and spent the next few minutes retching over the sink, trying to rinse the taste out of my mouth.
Today I'd say "serves me right."
Now that I'm out on my own I've tried some canning. It's a little tough with young kids around, so we haven't dont much, but the pear-sauce we made once turned out pretty nice.
Anyway, someone I work with is starting a website devoted to the "ancient art" of canning. It's a good resource, both for how-to's and, for people like me, memories.
Check out www.countryhomecanning.com sometime. And tell 'em Thom sent ya'.
10,000 Hours
I'm not going to repeat my post from my other blog here. Just read that post and know that I'm drawing a line in the sand. I've made myself a commitment that I am going to spend the next five years building my most important creation yet: the me I want to be.
Details at 11:00.
Details at 11:00.
Friendly Enemies
How do you build a better Air Force? By enlisting your own pilots to try and kill your own pilots. It's called "wargames", but it's deadly serious stuff. Popular Mechanics has an article on the training going on to make our F-22 Raptor pilots the most lethal in the world. (via Instapundit)
From Lt. Col. D. Scott Brenton, who has flown F-16's for 20 years, including 750 hours of combat flight:
That doesn't mean it's a cake-walk for the F-22 pilots, though:
I'm grateful they're up there. And I'm grateful they're on our side.
From Lt. Col. D. Scott Brenton, who has flown F-16's for 20 years, including 750 hours of combat flight:
"We do everything we can to try and challenge them: We increase our total numbers, we regenerate, we electronically jam the environment. And we die," Brenton says. "We die wholesale. We are kill-removed repeatedly and then regenerated, and then we are killed again. The process would be demoralizing if we didn't maintain proper perspective. This is our job while we are here. What motivates us is the fact that we are training our brethren—and they are damn good at what they do."
That doesn't mean it's a cake-walk for the F-22 pilots, though:
Brenton says the fights are complex and dangerous. "I equate them to solving a 1000-mph, three-dimensional chess game where the loser dies," he says. "The radio chatter can become so confusing that it's like blaring rock music in your ears at full volume. You have to act fast, think continuously, pull upwards of 9 g's over and over, monitor your fuel state, track your weapons status, make adjustments to the jets' internal systems, avoid the ground, stay in formation with your wingmen, operate your fire-control radar, scan the airspace visually for threats, decipher your blaring radar-warning-receiver signals and ensure that you kill all the bad guys. Then you must dodge the SAMs, engage a ground target with live bombs successfully, turn around and fight your way back out through the regenerated Red Air (the pilots playing the enemy team) one more time before heading home."
I'm grateful they're up there. And I'm grateful they're on our side.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Mars Mission Rehearsal
One of the problems with mounting a mission to Mars is knowing how a crew will handle the close to two year mission with only one another in close quarters and the only outside communication subject to a 20-minute lag.
The Russian space agency is starting a preliminary test today. The 105-day experiment will utilize a facility built in the 1970's:
One interesting point of the article is that projects such as the Mars mission are being created and administrated by people who will never be able to participate in the mission themselves. They're just hoping to see their dreams realized within their lifetime.
The Russian space agency is starting a preliminary test today. The 105-day experiment will utilize a facility built in the 1970's:
The mock spacecraft consists of four hermetically sealed modules built in the 1970s for isolation experiments ahead of missions aboard Soviet space stations and later the International Space Station. A section was recently added in which participants in the 520-day experiment will simulate a Mars landing.
The facility’s wood-paneled interior maintains a particularly Soviet aesthetic, but it has been equipped with new life-support systems to be tested during the Mars-500 project. Volunteers will tend experimental greenhouses that scientists hope will provide fresh vegetables and sights and smells of home.
One interesting point of the article is that projects such as the Mars mission are being created and administrated by people who will never be able to participate in the mission themselves. They're just hoping to see their dreams realized within their lifetime.
Monday, March 23, 2009
The Internet Is Real
Popular Science has an interesting article on the physical structure of the Internet, including an interview with a man whose job is to repair undersea telecommunications cables. Cool stuff!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Powerpoint Presentation Perspiration
I'll be presenting at a local conference next week, so I'm putting together a Powerpoint deck to accompany my remarks. I'll tell you what, there's an art to effective slide decks, and I'm afraid I'm just not an artist. It'll get the job done, though. At this point I need to get something together so I can start practicing and getting feedback from my unfortunate guinea pigs.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Software Development and Religion
If anyone thinks they can eliminate religion just have them spend time around software developers. Even if you can get them past the "Great Windows Vs. Linux" debate you're bound to run into other topics of controversy and dogma. Which development methodology to use is one such topic.
I'm going to be a presenter at a local development conference this month, and I've been digging in to various methodologies to make sure my remarks are broad enough to apply to as many situations as possible. Today is "Agile Day".
To be honest, I'm going to have to plead agnostic. After spending several hours on the finer points of Agile, I can honestly say: It doesn't matter which methodology you choose. Any methodology, if you do it well, will deliver a quality project. No methodology, if you do it poorly, will save your bacon.
The main advantage of Agile is that it tosses out a lot of extraneous steps and processes. The main weakness of Agile is that it tosses out a lot of "extraneous" steps and processes that might not be extraneous. Unless I've missed something along the line, it relies on gut instinct more than other methodologies, and hence relies on experienced developers to get the job done. Unfortunately, that doesn't speak well for the methodology. Any methodology will work if you use only experienced developers.
I see Agile as being the preferred methodology for consulting teams and implementation teams. It has the potential for abuse by these groups, as well. With such minimal up-front planning, it would be very easy to put the project into continuous loop, thus prolonging the engagement and running up the bill.
On the other hand, if it's done right I can see it as being very effective. I just suspect that "getting it right" is more difficult than people appreciate. Inexperienced project teams just will not get it right, period. The only saving grace is that the methodology makes it easier to disguise that you're not getting it right.
What really amuses me are the various advocates who try to play "peacemaker" among the methodologies. These are the people who say "Well, you would use this methodology in these cases, and this methodology in these cases here." It sounds good in theory, and in theory it is correct. There are some methodologies that lend themselves better to certain types of projects.
The problem is that very few organizations possess the skills, size, and discipline to pull it off. Most organizations are struggling to execute one methodology well. Add another methodology two and you'll have the software equivalent of "I speak three languages, each one badly". More often than not everyone will just be confused. It is better, I think, to learn to execute one methodology well, even if it's not always a good match for the project, than to execute with mediocrity in several.
Anyway, it's been interesting research so far. Agile is especially hard on my particular area of expertise: documentation. In short, they're against it. Or at least that's how it comes across. If you dig deeper they're really just attempting to reduce the overhead that often creeps into documentation efforts in one-size-fits-all methodologies. They're not saying "don't document," they're saying "document only what makes sense". And I will admit that far too often some documentation doesn't make sense.
In any case, I'm glad I'm giving this presentation. It's helped me to look outside the rut I've been in with my current job and see what other things have been going on in the industry. My presentation will be much better for it. And it will help immensely in preparing for any religious fanatics in the audience.
I'm going to be a presenter at a local development conference this month, and I've been digging in to various methodologies to make sure my remarks are broad enough to apply to as many situations as possible. Today is "Agile Day".
To be honest, I'm going to have to plead agnostic. After spending several hours on the finer points of Agile, I can honestly say: It doesn't matter which methodology you choose. Any methodology, if you do it well, will deliver a quality project. No methodology, if you do it poorly, will save your bacon.
The main advantage of Agile is that it tosses out a lot of extraneous steps and processes. The main weakness of Agile is that it tosses out a lot of "extraneous" steps and processes that might not be extraneous. Unless I've missed something along the line, it relies on gut instinct more than other methodologies, and hence relies on experienced developers to get the job done. Unfortunately, that doesn't speak well for the methodology. Any methodology will work if you use only experienced developers.
I see Agile as being the preferred methodology for consulting teams and implementation teams. It has the potential for abuse by these groups, as well. With such minimal up-front planning, it would be very easy to put the project into continuous loop, thus prolonging the engagement and running up the bill.
On the other hand, if it's done right I can see it as being very effective. I just suspect that "getting it right" is more difficult than people appreciate. Inexperienced project teams just will not get it right, period. The only saving grace is that the methodology makes it easier to disguise that you're not getting it right.
What really amuses me are the various advocates who try to play "peacemaker" among the methodologies. These are the people who say "Well, you would use this methodology in these cases, and this methodology in these cases here." It sounds good in theory, and in theory it is correct. There are some methodologies that lend themselves better to certain types of projects.
The problem is that very few organizations possess the skills, size, and discipline to pull it off. Most organizations are struggling to execute one methodology well. Add another methodology two and you'll have the software equivalent of "I speak three languages, each one badly". More often than not everyone will just be confused. It is better, I think, to learn to execute one methodology well, even if it's not always a good match for the project, than to execute with mediocrity in several.
Anyway, it's been interesting research so far. Agile is especially hard on my particular area of expertise: documentation. In short, they're against it. Or at least that's how it comes across. If you dig deeper they're really just attempting to reduce the overhead that often creeps into documentation efforts in one-size-fits-all methodologies. They're not saying "don't document," they're saying "document only what makes sense". And I will admit that far too often some documentation doesn't make sense.
In any case, I'm glad I'm giving this presentation. It's helped me to look outside the rut I've been in with my current job and see what other things have been going on in the industry. My presentation will be much better for it. And it will help immensely in preparing for any religious fanatics in the audience.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Making Things Happen
Here's an interesting story about workers at a sign company who suddenly found themselves out of work when the company went under. They organized: first into a support group, then into an economic action committee. The result is that half of them have already found new jobs at the new businesses their actions helped bring into the area. Read the whole thing here.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Arches and Gates
Here's one of my favorite projects from last year. Our back yard had two exits. One was a barely-functional double gate the previous owners used to get their boat out from behind the fence. It was essentially two sections of the fence put on sagging hinges. You could get it open, but only with much grunting. The other was next to the garage on the other side of the house, and about as far away from any place you'd want to be in the front yard as it gets.
I could tell from examining the fence that there used to be a gate right next to the house. They had boarded it up when they'd put in some raised garden beds along that section. But I came along and removed the garden beds, which opened up that spot to become a gate again.
Of course we didn't just want a clunky old section-of-the-fence type gate. We wanted an archway. And so one day last fall we bought an arch kit from Home Depot and I got to work.
I removed the section of fence (former gate), which was wider than the arch by a couple feet. That meant I needed to put in a new post and restore a small section of fence. I decided to put in the two feet extending from the post right next to the house. Once that was done it was a simple matter to "plant" the arch in the gap. But next I needed a gate. No problem. I picked up some 1"x3" stakes, hinges, and latch, and pulled out some left-over 2"x3" from a shelving project.
A short time later I had a gate, and we now have an attractive and convenient passage between the front and back yards.
Of course that creates the necessity to put in a nice pathway from the arch to the front door--or at least do something with that former flower-bed you can see right in front of the arch.
But as any good do-it-yourselfer knows, you never complete your list of projects. You just uncover new ones with every project you do. We lived in our previous house for five years and spent much of that time taming the large back yard, tweaking the landscaping, and convincing the fruit trees to grow. We still weren't really finished when we moved.
Landscaping is never really complete. It is merely abandoned.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Hand-crafted Since 1998
I have to admit I've been a bit busy. My latest project will hopefully "go live" in a few days. I'm making a website in preparation for a conference presentation I'll be giving in a few weeks. With any luck it'll be my "coming out" party as a consultant.
Anyway, money being tight right now I'll be doing it all myself, without any fancy software help. I'll let you all know when it's up so you can rip-- I mean comment on my handiwork.
Anyway, money being tight right now I'll be doing it all myself, without any fancy software help. I'll let you all know when it's up so you can rip-- I mean comment on my handiwork.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Confessional
I enjoy making things and doing things myself. But not everything. The other night I noticed I had a headlight out. Today after my doctor's appointment I stopped in at the autoparts store to get a new bulb. Last time I had a headlight go out I was able to replace the bulb (after a fair amount of struggle, mind you), so I figured I could do it again--and more quickly, having been through it once already.
Well, I bought the bulb and went out to my car in the parking lot, popped the hood, and...couldn't even get to the bulb I needed to replace. On that side of the car they'd mounted the battery right behind the headlight. The only way to change the headlight is to remove the battery (and who knows what else).
So I took it to my mechanic. While I enjoy working on some things, my car is not one of them. I know I should forfeit my "Man Card" for that, but tinkering with the car has never held the same thrill for me that it seems to hold for so many others. Besides, my car needed an oil change, too, and last time had filled my punch-card. This time would be a freebie.
Bottom line: $15.00, plus a free oil change. I can live with that. Plus I get to skip spending an hour in the garage tonight cursing my Corolla. (Hmmm.... that sounds like an R.E.M. song: "That's me in the corner...that's me in the spotlight...cursing my Corolla...")
I also got to pet "Rooster", the golden-retriever the garage is named for. There are people in Japan who would pay $15 just for that!
Well, I bought the bulb and went out to my car in the parking lot, popped the hood, and...couldn't even get to the bulb I needed to replace. On that side of the car they'd mounted the battery right behind the headlight. The only way to change the headlight is to remove the battery (and who knows what else).
So I took it to my mechanic. While I enjoy working on some things, my car is not one of them. I know I should forfeit my "Man Card" for that, but tinkering with the car has never held the same thrill for me that it seems to hold for so many others. Besides, my car needed an oil change, too, and last time had filled my punch-card. This time would be a freebie.
Bottom line: $15.00, plus a free oil change. I can live with that. Plus I get to skip spending an hour in the garage tonight cursing my Corolla. (Hmmm.... that sounds like an R.E.M. song: "That's me in the corner...that's me in the spotlight...cursing my Corolla...")
I also got to pet "Rooster", the golden-retriever the garage is named for. There are people in Japan who would pay $15 just for that!
Monday, March 2, 2009
Solar Power Becoming Cheaper
According to Popular Mechanics, First Solar has dropped their production costs down to $1 per watt.
Unfortunately they'll have to do a fair bit better than that before I can afford to go solar. The last time I checked it would still take me over 30 years for the system to pay for itself. I think they'd have to get that down to 10 years or less before I'd be able to make the change.
I'd love to, though! As Instapundit often says, "Faster Please!"
Unfortunately they'll have to do a fair bit better than that before I can afford to go solar. The last time I checked it would still take me over 30 years for the system to pay for itself. I think they'd have to get that down to 10 years or less before I'd be able to make the change.
I'd love to, though! As Instapundit often says, "Faster Please!"
At Least I've Never Burned the House Down
Msnbc.com has an article about Wu Yu Lu, a Chinese farmer who would rather build robots.
She did eventually relent and return to Wu. Meanwhile, he has gone on to acquire some fame in China after all these years.
They say that if you pursue what you are passionate about the money will come. For some it takes longer than others, but I believe it's true.
Wu remembered being fascinated by motion and the mechanics of motion when he was just 10 years old. “I didn’t like to study, didn’t like going to school,” said the farmer, whose formal education ended after third grade. But he loved playing with machines.
He first started building mechanical parts in the 1980s and has since completed 33 working robots, most of which are littered around his dusty courtyard house. They’re an eclectic-looking bunch, sort of Tim Burton meets Wallace and Gromit.
One of the earlier models is a simple-looking box that, when turned on, waves a hand fan back and forth. It turns out it was a love letter of sorts to Dong.
“We had known each other for six months, but she wasn’t that interested in me or my machines,” said Wu. “When I built that for her, to help keep her cool when she was resting, she seemed to reconsider her opinion of me.”
But it took Dong a long time to truly accept her husband’s eccentric habits. Particularly after their home burned down due to a faulty transformer he’d picked up somewhere.
“I was so angry, I took the two sons and left, saying to him, how can I live like this?” recalled his long-suffering wife, who now laughs when she tells the story. “After all these years all you have are these few poor houses, but then you burned them down!”
She did eventually relent and return to Wu. Meanwhile, he has gone on to acquire some fame in China after all these years.
Wu, whose robots earned him nationwide fame when he was voted China’s smartest inventor farmer in 2004 on a local television station in Hunan province, has begun making some money off his creations and appears to be juggling three or four projects at any given time. They include a top-secret health venture for a company and the odd commission by a well-off businessman looking for a quirky gadget (he recently sold another robot to a factory boss for $1,400).
But the erstwhile farmer said he wants to prosper one day with his robots. His hope is “to work with my second son to make intelligent robots,” he said. “Then maybe we can really make something that will take off.”
They say that if you pursue what you are passionate about the money will come. For some it takes longer than others, but I believe it's true.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Excel - My Guilty Pleasure
I'm not a typical IT guy. I don't have a Blackberry. I don't carry a cellphone. My home computer is an off-the-shelf HP Pavilion with upgraded RAM. I don't have satellite or cable. We didn't even have DSL internet until my wife learned she could talk to her mother in Europe for free with Skype. I've never had any secret programming project at home that will make me rich some day.
But I do love to tinker with Excel. It all began with my family budget. I use Quicken for my home finances. I like it. It works well. But they didn't handle budgeting--not really. They still don't. Not the way I like to do it, anyway. So though I'm loathe to duplicate effort, I created a spreadsheet to accompany Quicken so I could see at a glance where I am with my monthly budget.
That spreadsheet has evolved over the years. It began with a simple list of budget categories and budget targets. To the right of each category in an ever-increasing row I'd list any transactions that fit that category. I'd then sum that row to know what my current expenditures were.
It was messy, though. The next year I created a new version that took the more common categories (like food or household expenses that have lots of transactions during a month, as opposed to the electric bill that I pay only once) and created columns off the side to enter transactions in to be totaled, and that total recorded with each category in the list so I could compare expected, actual, and difference.
The main problem with that spreadsheet was on split category transactions. If we went to the store and bought some items that count against the food category, some items that count against pet supplies, and some items that count against home maintenance I could record them in their appropriate categories, but I couldn't link them to each other. Tracking transactions after the fact was difficult.
So this year I got fancy. I have one column for all transactions. I record the payee, the amount, and the category code in one continuous column. Split-category purchases are all right next to each other for easy reference. But the spreadsheet goes through that column and totals all the transactions by category and enters them in the appropriate place in my budget category list. If later on I need to recategorize a transaction I just change the code rather than having to cut and paste the transaction to another column.
Oh, and did I mention that my spreadsheet automatically detects how many paychecks I get per month and adjusts certain budget targets accordingly? For example, I get paid weekly right now. Sometimes there'll be a month with five paydays instead of four. Since my food budget is calculated based on so much per week, on five-week months I need to automatically adjust upward by 25%. My spreadsheet does that for me.
So yes, I'm an Excel geek. It comes in handy at work, I'll tell you. Just this week I created a spreadsheet to help customers requesting services from our group. They check the boxes representing functionality they want and by the time they're done the spreadsheet will recommend which solution they should ask for.
This week I also discovered macros! This could revolutionize everything!
Anyway, I'm a big fan of spreadsheets. I even have one to help generate role-playing game character sheets. You enter the character's attributes and it'll fill in all the resulting data points that are based on that attribute. It's really quite cool, and looks so neat and orderly when I print them out.
Take my word for it.
So there you have it. I may curse Microsoft Word to the sky some days, but I've got nothing but love for Excel.
Most of the time.
But I do love to tinker with Excel. It all began with my family budget. I use Quicken for my home finances. I like it. It works well. But they didn't handle budgeting--not really. They still don't. Not the way I like to do it, anyway. So though I'm loathe to duplicate effort, I created a spreadsheet to accompany Quicken so I could see at a glance where I am with my monthly budget.
That spreadsheet has evolved over the years. It began with a simple list of budget categories and budget targets. To the right of each category in an ever-increasing row I'd list any transactions that fit that category. I'd then sum that row to know what my current expenditures were.
It was messy, though. The next year I created a new version that took the more common categories (like food or household expenses that have lots of transactions during a month, as opposed to the electric bill that I pay only once) and created columns off the side to enter transactions in to be totaled, and that total recorded with each category in the list so I could compare expected, actual, and difference.
The main problem with that spreadsheet was on split category transactions. If we went to the store and bought some items that count against the food category, some items that count against pet supplies, and some items that count against home maintenance I could record them in their appropriate categories, but I couldn't link them to each other. Tracking transactions after the fact was difficult.
So this year I got fancy. I have one column for all transactions. I record the payee, the amount, and the category code in one continuous column. Split-category purchases are all right next to each other for easy reference. But the spreadsheet goes through that column and totals all the transactions by category and enters them in the appropriate place in my budget category list. If later on I need to recategorize a transaction I just change the code rather than having to cut and paste the transaction to another column.
Oh, and did I mention that my spreadsheet automatically detects how many paychecks I get per month and adjusts certain budget targets accordingly? For example, I get paid weekly right now. Sometimes there'll be a month with five paydays instead of four. Since my food budget is calculated based on so much per week, on five-week months I need to automatically adjust upward by 25%. My spreadsheet does that for me.
So yes, I'm an Excel geek. It comes in handy at work, I'll tell you. Just this week I created a spreadsheet to help customers requesting services from our group. They check the boxes representing functionality they want and by the time they're done the spreadsheet will recommend which solution they should ask for.
This week I also discovered macros! This could revolutionize everything!
Anyway, I'm a big fan of spreadsheets. I even have one to help generate role-playing game character sheets. You enter the character's attributes and it'll fill in all the resulting data points that are based on that attribute. It's really quite cool, and looks so neat and orderly when I print them out.
Take my word for it.
So there you have it. I may curse Microsoft Word to the sky some days, but I've got nothing but love for Excel.
Most of the time.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Popular Mechanics Essential Skills
Popular Mechanics recently posted a list of 25 essential skills all men should know. They covered how to do each of these in their Oct 2008 issue (and now available here). Here's the list that I'm pretty sure I can do:
I guess the real question is "how well do you have to do it to count?"
2. Protect your computer
3. Rescue a boater who has capsized
4. Frame a wall
5. Retouch digital photos
7. Build a campfire
9. Navigate with a map and compass
12. Perform CPR
14. Maneuver a car out of a skid
15. Get a car unstuck
16. Back up data
17. Paint a room
18. Mix concrete
23. Paddle a canoe
24. Fix a bike flat
I guess the real question is "how well do you have to do it to count?"
To Dad
When I was young my father made us the world’s best hot-dog roasting sticks ever. He worked at the local university as the PE department’s equipment manager. As a result he got first dibs on any cast-off equipment before they threw it away. So when they were getting rid of their damaged badminton racquets and some old fencing foils my dad had an idea.
That night he came home with a set of fencing foil blades fastened into the handle and shaft of the badminton racquets. Viola! Comfortable handles with a long reach. This was important for a family of eight, plus their friends, roasting hot dogs in the backyard around a fireplace enclosed on three sides. You had to be able to reach the fire if you didn’t want to go hungry or eat a cold dog.
He built the fireplace, too, from cinder blocks and bricks I’m sure he salvaged from somewhere.
That was the way my dad was, though I never realized how unusual that was at the time. He was always fixing things, improving things, or creating new things that never existed. He fixed the centrally-controlled clock system at the gymnasium; something I realize today probably wasn’t in his job description. He devised a system of checking towels out to students for their workouts that ensured he got every towel back again.
He renovated our house. He fixed sewing machines as a side business. He experimented with different chemicals and methods for cleaning things. He jury-rigged our cars to get us all home. He was an unofficial spokesman for WD-40. We teased him about it, but today I know exactly where my can is at any given time.
In short, my dad was never just an equipment manager, just a janitor. He was a systems analyst, a process analyst, an inventor, a mechanic, an engineer, an architect. Whether he wanted to be all those things or if it grew out of necessity I don’t know, but I know he enjoyed it. And we absorbed it, not knowing that Dad was helping us kids become more self-sufficient.
When I was a teenager he asked me to come help him fix the faucet in the kitchen. I was not thrilled—and was even less so when I found out he intended for me to do the work. I felt that “you need to learn to do this for yourself” was a pretty lame excuse. But I did it.
Over ten years later I became a homeowner myself. Thanks to my dad, I am an empowered homeowner (that’s the modern terminology, mind you. In my father’s day it was just being “competent”). Leaky faucets? Faulty ducting? Broken lamp? No problem. Build a shed from scratch? Sure thing. Replace a sink? I can do that.
I didn’t learn to do all of that from my father, but he taught me the most important thing: your two hands, coupled with a decent brain, can do most anything if you’ll just try it.
It’s been two years since my Dad died. It’s strange. It seems the longer he’s been gone the more I miss him, the more I understand just how much of who I am is because of him. I never thought of myself as an unappreciative person—you know, the “the older I get the smarter my parents get” type—yet that’s exactly what I’m finding as I get older. I thought I knew how good my father was, how smart he was, how creative.
I didn’t know squat. Part of it is just because it’s hard to see what is right there in front of you all the time. You don’t realize your parents are special, because they’ve always been that way. The things your friends' parents do amaze you, because they’re new, but your own parents can’t impress you because they’ve always been impressive.
But part of it is because some things you just can’t really understand until you go through it yourself. I got a late start in getting out on my own and starting a family. Now that I’m finally learning the questions to ask, he’s not here to ask anymore. Would I have had the guts—or the time—to even ask him if he were? I don’t know. My father and I were not all that close. Did that bother him? I’ll never know. Not in this life, anyway.
The Mike and the Mechanics song “In the Living Years” is as true as any scripture (via LyricsFreak:
It’s not like my father and I didn’t get along. We did. But I don’t think we really understood each other. At least I never really understood him.
I’m starting to, and it’s at once both wonderful and painful.
I didn’t set out to write something this tender and emotional. I just thought it would be a fitting “first post” on this blog to pay tribute to the man who taught me the joy of making things. Say it to yourself: “Mmmaking things”. It’s thrilling just to say it. To do it--even more so. To bring into existence something that didn’t exist before elicits an almost primeval, sinewy satisfaction. I…Made…That.
I like making things, whether it’s a piece of software or a bench, a new recipe or a planter box. For the longest time I thought I was on a different career path from my father. It turns out we’ve been in the same line of work all along.
I love you, Dad. I miss you. We’ll have a lot to talk about next time we meet.
That night he came home with a set of fencing foil blades fastened into the handle and shaft of the badminton racquets. Viola! Comfortable handles with a long reach. This was important for a family of eight, plus their friends, roasting hot dogs in the backyard around a fireplace enclosed on three sides. You had to be able to reach the fire if you didn’t want to go hungry or eat a cold dog.
He built the fireplace, too, from cinder blocks and bricks I’m sure he salvaged from somewhere.
That was the way my dad was, though I never realized how unusual that was at the time. He was always fixing things, improving things, or creating new things that never existed. He fixed the centrally-controlled clock system at the gymnasium; something I realize today probably wasn’t in his job description. He devised a system of checking towels out to students for their workouts that ensured he got every towel back again.
He renovated our house. He fixed sewing machines as a side business. He experimented with different chemicals and methods for cleaning things. He jury-rigged our cars to get us all home. He was an unofficial spokesman for WD-40. We teased him about it, but today I know exactly where my can is at any given time.
In short, my dad was never just an equipment manager, just a janitor. He was a systems analyst, a process analyst, an inventor, a mechanic, an engineer, an architect. Whether he wanted to be all those things or if it grew out of necessity I don’t know, but I know he enjoyed it. And we absorbed it, not knowing that Dad was helping us kids become more self-sufficient.
When I was a teenager he asked me to come help him fix the faucet in the kitchen. I was not thrilled—and was even less so when I found out he intended for me to do the work. I felt that “you need to learn to do this for yourself” was a pretty lame excuse. But I did it.
Over ten years later I became a homeowner myself. Thanks to my dad, I am an empowered homeowner (that’s the modern terminology, mind you. In my father’s day it was just being “competent”). Leaky faucets? Faulty ducting? Broken lamp? No problem. Build a shed from scratch? Sure thing. Replace a sink? I can do that.
I didn’t learn to do all of that from my father, but he taught me the most important thing: your two hands, coupled with a decent brain, can do most anything if you’ll just try it.
It’s been two years since my Dad died. It’s strange. It seems the longer he’s been gone the more I miss him, the more I understand just how much of who I am is because of him. I never thought of myself as an unappreciative person—you know, the “the older I get the smarter my parents get” type—yet that’s exactly what I’m finding as I get older. I thought I knew how good my father was, how smart he was, how creative.
I didn’t know squat. Part of it is just because it’s hard to see what is right there in front of you all the time. You don’t realize your parents are special, because they’ve always been that way. The things your friends' parents do amaze you, because they’re new, but your own parents can’t impress you because they’ve always been impressive.
But part of it is because some things you just can’t really understand until you go through it yourself. I got a late start in getting out on my own and starting a family. Now that I’m finally learning the questions to ask, he’s not here to ask anymore. Would I have had the guts—or the time—to even ask him if he were? I don’t know. My father and I were not all that close. Did that bother him? I’ll never know. Not in this life, anyway.
The Mike and the Mechanics song “In the Living Years” is as true as any scripture (via LyricsFreak:
Every generation
Blames the one before
And all of their frustrations
Come beating on your door
I know that I’m a prisoner
To all my father held so dear
I know that I’m a hostage
To all his hopes and fears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years
Crumpled bits of paper
Filled with imperfect thought
Stilted conversations
I’m afraid that’s all we’ve got
You say you just don’t see it
He says its perfect sense
You just can’t get agreement
In this present tense
We all talk a different language
Talking in defence
Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It’s too late when we die
To admit we don’t see eye to eye
So we open up a quarrel
Between the present and the past
We only sacrifice the future
Its the bitterness that lasts
So don’t yield to the fortunes
You sometimes see as fate
It may have a new perspective
On a different day
And if you don’t give up, and don’t give in
You may just be o.k.
Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It’s too late when we die
To admit we don’t see eye to eye
I wasn’t there that morning
When my father passed away
I didn’t get to tell him
All the things I had to say
I think I caught his spirit
Later that same year
I’m sure I heard his echo
In my baby’s new born tears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years
Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It’s too late when we die
To admit we don’t see eye to eye
It’s not like my father and I didn’t get along. We did. But I don’t think we really understood each other. At least I never really understood him.
I’m starting to, and it’s at once both wonderful and painful.
I didn’t set out to write something this tender and emotional. I just thought it would be a fitting “first post” on this blog to pay tribute to the man who taught me the joy of making things. Say it to yourself: “Mmmaking things”. It’s thrilling just to say it. To do it--even more so. To bring into existence something that didn’t exist before elicits an almost primeval, sinewy satisfaction. I…Made…That.
I like making things, whether it’s a piece of software or a bench, a new recipe or a planter box. For the longest time I thought I was on a different career path from my father. It turns out we’ve been in the same line of work all along.
I love you, Dad. I miss you. We’ll have a lot to talk about next time we meet.
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