Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Evening walkies in Paradise...
Evening walkies in Paradise... The sun is low, the temperature balmy, there's a slight breeze, the dogs are lazy, and we just slowly walked through the fields of alfalfa and drank in the views...
Shaper in Paradise...
Shaper in Paradise... My shaper is the last big piece of woodworking equipment that I'm planning to buy, at least until I learn what else I need (a standalone sander of some type is a distinct possibility). I received the shaper last week, but other project have kept me from finishing the assembly of it until today.
The photos below give you an idea what it's like to unpack and assemble a piece of equipment like this. The first photo shows what it looked like when I took the top of the crate off: a nicely milled cast iron surface, covered with a thick layer of grease. The second photo shows it with the crate completely removed. All the parts that had to be assembled (dozens of them) were packed inside the green cabinet, as you can glimpse in the third photo. The fourth photo shows all those parts after I extracted them. The fifth and sixth photos show a couple of stages during the assembly process, which is nearly all on the top of the machine.
The last two photos should have a title: “Really, Grizzly?” The next-to-last photo shows the angle meter (for the tilting spindle). Looks great. Except – in the last photo, you see the handle for raising and lowering the spindle installed. It completely covers the angle meter. Really, Grizzly? That's the best you can do? Fortunately, I suppose, I don't expect to be changing the spindle angle all that frequently. But ... when I do, I'll be partially disassembling my shaper just so I can read the angle! Jeez. I certainly expected better for a machine in this price range.
Aside from that one awesomely stupid design element (really, Grizzly?), I like what I see here. The cast iron table is heavy and very nicely made, the sliding part slide true and smoothly, the tilting spindle works great, and everything on the machine looks like it was built to withstand a nuclear assault. I haven't wired it up yet, so I haven't been able to actually run some wood through it.
While I've got the shaper itself completely assembled, I haven't yet assembled the rolling base I bought for it. That's a project for another day, along with wiring it up and lighting it off...
Really, Grizzly? Really?
The photos below give you an idea what it's like to unpack and assemble a piece of equipment like this. The first photo shows what it looked like when I took the top of the crate off: a nicely milled cast iron surface, covered with a thick layer of grease. The second photo shows it with the crate completely removed. All the parts that had to be assembled (dozens of them) were packed inside the green cabinet, as you can glimpse in the third photo. The fourth photo shows all those parts after I extracted them. The fifth and sixth photos show a couple of stages during the assembly process, which is nearly all on the top of the machine.
The last two photos should have a title: “Really, Grizzly?” The next-to-last photo shows the angle meter (for the tilting spindle). Looks great. Except – in the last photo, you see the handle for raising and lowering the spindle installed. It completely covers the angle meter. Really, Grizzly? That's the best you can do? Fortunately, I suppose, I don't expect to be changing the spindle angle all that frequently. But ... when I do, I'll be partially disassembling my shaper just so I can read the angle! Jeez. I certainly expected better for a machine in this price range.
Aside from that one awesomely stupid design element (really, Grizzly?), I like what I see here. The cast iron table is heavy and very nicely made, the sliding part slide true and smoothly, the tilting spindle works great, and everything on the machine looks like it was built to withstand a nuclear assault. I haven't wired it up yet, so I haven't been able to actually run some wood through it.
While I've got the shaper itself completely assembled, I haven't yet assembled the rolling base I bought for it. That's a project for another day, along with wiring it up and lighting it off...
Really, Grizzly? Really?
Storm in Paradise...
Storm in Paradise... Yesterday afternoon we had a brief visit from the storm king. It brought very little rain (just 0.04"), but lots and lots of drama – mainly in the form of gusty wind and dark, evil-looking clouds. It was all over in less than an hour...
Progress in Paradise...
Dr. Seeholzer is a second-generation optometrist – his dad started the practice over 60 years ago. I thoroughly enjoyed the visit, which isn't at all what I expected! Dr. Seeholzer (who asked to be called “Jeff”) is an affable fellow, happy to answer my questions in any amount of detail I wanted. His exam was thorough, as was his review of my optometric history (which, unfortunately, he thought was interesting :).
I'm starting to think that appointments being honored on time is some kind of cultural norm here, just as in California it seem to be the norm for all appointment times to be basically ignored. My appointment yesterday was for 9:15 am, and I was ushered into the exam room (and the exam was started) at 9:13. Amazing!
This morning I hooked up my sprayer to the ATV, and sprayed ... just about every conceivable place on our property. I used 67% 2,4-D at 2.5 ounces per gallon (a 25% increase from last time), and sprayed our entire lawn, the field borders, the area between the irrigation canal and the highway, the non-lawn areas around our outbuildings, the dirt piles leftover from the shed construction, and a bunch of weed “hot spots” scattered all over the place. I'd made two batches of spray, 40 gallons each, and all the spraying on our place used 72 gallons. The extra 8 gallons I sprayed on our neighbor's property (after getting permission, of course!), so they got a free second dosage on part of their yard. I ran out about a third of the way through their lawn :)
Debbie's been making great progress on recovering from her fall in March. Today she's feeling good enough to start cleaning up the agility court area of the shed, to get it ready for installing foam. She's been going on about half our walkies, too. It's great to see her getting better!
Mo'i in the moonlight, in Paradise...
Mo'i in the moonlight, in Paradise... Our ancient and venerable field spaniel (Mo'i) just keeps getting better. Beyond the Miracle of the Unnecessary Diapers, he's now getting physically stronger. There are increasingly frequent moments when he seems downright playful and frisky. Where he used to bark piteously at 2 or 3 am to be taken out for a walk (and to pee prodigiously), he now only occasionally barks to be let out before we wake up on our own.
That's what happened this morning. I awoke around 4 am, then read email and news for an hour or so before actually getting up. I took a leisurely shower, then wandered out to the kitchen to greet Mo'i. He was up, wagging his tail, and eager to get outside. We walked out into a wonderfully cool, still morning, brightly lit by the full moon that was about to set over the mountains to our west. He strained at the leash to go off and investigate all the things he could smell, and I could not. I smelled just four things: pines, spruce, roses, and the complex aroma of the irrigation canal. Mo'i ignored all those things and chased invisible trails of mice, muskrats, neighborhood cats, and who knows what else. He's reveling in the lush green grass of our lawn, something he rarely saw in Jamul. He was obviously having a good dogly time, tail wagging like mad. A couple of times, walking alongside me, he reached up and nibbled my fingers – something he did as a puppy when he was happy. The fact that he survived his cancer to make it up here, and can enjoy it, is a source of great satisfaction to Debbie and I...
That's what happened this morning. I awoke around 4 am, then read email and news for an hour or so before actually getting up. I took a leisurely shower, then wandered out to the kitchen to greet Mo'i. He was up, wagging his tail, and eager to get outside. We walked out into a wonderfully cool, still morning, brightly lit by the full moon that was about to set over the mountains to our west. He strained at the leash to go off and investigate all the things he could smell, and I could not. I smelled just four things: pines, spruce, roses, and the complex aroma of the irrigation canal. Mo'i ignored all those things and chased invisible trails of mice, muskrats, neighborhood cats, and who knows what else. He's reveling in the lush green grass of our lawn, something he rarely saw in Jamul. He was obviously having a good dogly time, tail wagging like mad. A couple of times, walking alongside me, he reached up and nibbled my fingers – something he did as a puppy when he was happy. The fact that he survived his cancer to make it up here, and can enjoy it, is a source of great satisfaction to Debbie and I...
I don't know why...
TSA fails again...
TSA fails again... Several readers flagged this one for me. Larry E. also sent along a personal experience:
Most of the news stories about the current brouhaha don't mention it, but TSA (and its predecessors) have been failing these spot checks for years. In fact, they've never passed one! As Bruce Schneier likes to say, the TSA is all about security theater. It doesn't actually provide security, just the minimum necessary appearance (for sheeple pacification and political purposes) of it.
The continually failed security spot checks reminds me of a similar experience I had in the U.S. Navy. Hopefully they've gotten better by now, though I wouldn't bet any money on it. I served on a nuclear-powered ship that carried nuclear weapons, and it was a ship that could serve as “flag”, meaning that it could carry an admiral and his retinue – and had extensive secure communications facilities.
To give just one example of the security test we routinely failed (routinely as in every single time): one of the testing agents was always able to get into the radio room, right up to the teletypes and printers that were handling all the “secure” communications. The radio room could only be entered through a door that had a push-button combination lock (similar to the one at right), and the combination was frequently changed. How did the agent get in? It was trivially easy, as the combination was always taped to the door or frame somewhere easily visible. WTF? Why would they do that? Because the several dozen or so people who were cleared to enter the radio room (including yours truly) couldn't be relied on to memorize the new combinations. Plus distributing the new combination was an interesting challenge in itself. So someone always taped the combination up. I had access to the radio room for about three years (while I had responsibility for maintaining a computer involved in secure satellite communications), actually entered it hundreds of times, and I never once memorized the combination.
I went through screening one day and forgot some change in my pocket. I went through the body scanner and realized it, so I reached in my pocket to get it to show the screener but it was still in my fist as his device showed it, but he basically just wanded me over the pocket my change had been in and sent me on my way. I never had the chance to show him that I had it in my hand now and he didn't ask nor did he find it. Can you imagine is someone had even simple sleight-of-hand skills?I've had some personal experiences of my own over the years, mainly involving my pocket knife. I have a lifetime habit of carrying a small folding pocket knife with me at all times, and many is the time that I've forgotten to remove it (post-9/11) before flying. Only once was that pocket knife detected by airport security – and that was in London, getting ready to come back to the U.S. They confiscated it and mailed it to me (I paid the postage). I never counted the number of flights inside the U.S. where I took the knife through security, but it has to be in the range of four or five dozen times.
Most of the news stories about the current brouhaha don't mention it, but TSA (and its predecessors) have been failing these spot checks for years. In fact, they've never passed one! As Bruce Schneier likes to say, the TSA is all about security theater. It doesn't actually provide security, just the minimum necessary appearance (for sheeple pacification and political purposes) of it.
The continually failed security spot checks reminds me of a similar experience I had in the U.S. Navy. Hopefully they've gotten better by now, though I wouldn't bet any money on it. I served on a nuclear-powered ship that carried nuclear weapons, and it was a ship that could serve as “flag”, meaning that it could carry an admiral and his retinue – and had extensive secure communications facilities.
Why did nobody ever tell us?
Why did nobody ever tell us? This morning Debbie and I changed our bedclothes. Part of this effort included inserting a comforter into a duvet, something we've done about 10,000 times over the past 30+ years. While trying to find a corner in the duvet, I noticed a pair of cloth ribbons, about 8" long, sewn into the inside of the corner.
What could that be? A tie? To tie the corner of the comforter in place? Working on that theory, I checked inside of all four corners, and sure enough: there are ribbons in all of them. Who knew?
So then Debbie and I decided to try tying the corner of the comforter with the ties. We weren't quite sure how we were going to do that, but it sounded like it would make the clumsy process of inserting the comforter a bit easier. So we got the comforter in place, and then I went to tie the first corner – and discovered that the comforter had a handy loop right where we'd need it to make the tie work. In a jiffy we had the comforter tied into the right place, inside the duvet, and in fact that was much easier than the corner-holding and shaking we've been doing all these years.
Duvets come with insider corner ties? Comforters come with matching tie loops? We checked our other comforters and duvets. Yup. Ties and loops in all of them.
How the hell could we have been doing this for over three decades without once even suspecting that those ties and loops existed? And why are we completely surrounded by cruel people who never told us?
What could that be? A tie? To tie the corner of the comforter in place? Working on that theory, I checked inside of all four corners, and sure enough: there are ribbons in all of them. Who knew?
So then Debbie and I decided to try tying the corner of the comforter with the ties. We weren't quite sure how we were going to do that, but it sounded like it would make the clumsy process of inserting the comforter a bit easier. So we got the comforter in place, and then I went to tie the first corner – and discovered that the comforter had a handy loop right where we'd need it to make the tie work. In a jiffy we had the comforter tied into the right place, inside the duvet, and in fact that was much easier than the corner-holding and shaking we've been doing all these years.
Duvets come with insider corner ties? Comforters come with matching tie loops? We checked our other comforters and duvets. Yup. Ties and loops in all of them.
How the hell could we have been doing this for over three decades without once even suspecting that those ties and loops existed? And why are we completely surrounded by cruel people who never told us?