About every six months I remember to go to https://oaklandgeology.com/ to experience vicariously what was arguably my first love in science.
He walks and rambles and observes, as a geologist must, which is another of my loves.
Searching for ..
.. using google shows me a web page from ..
.. on the first page of results. I daren't click it: I think it's an artifact of a battle of search engine optimizer versus search engine more than anything a human would want to risk (although I read the search results out loud: it did not seem to be random).
Found a lot of other interesting hydrocarbon fuel related reading, about additives, blending, corrosion ...
No launch today: too much lightning danger.
NASA TV, at https://www.nasa.gov/multimedia/nasatv, is carrying the SpaceX launch of two American astronauts right now. 47 minutes to launch right now, but the weather is currently blocking.
Discovered that Yvette Horner was portayed as the strangely animate mannikin accordionist on top of the van in the bicycle race of The Triplets of Belleville.
After reading an article about Gershon Kingsley, I headed to youtube to hear the original Popcorn. The algorithm suggested a Horner accordian rendition from France, and I noted the resemblance to her caricature in TToB. Wikipedia page says that she often played on the route of the Tour de France.
I'm late to the party, of course.
There was a wild turkey hen sitting on top of the automatic gate when we got home. I stopped and was awestruck by that cluelessly comfortable bird on the exact center of the top rail.
After a half a minute I returned to my senses, and pushed the open button. As the gate started to swing, Turkey stood and stepped and stooped and fanned her tail open and flapped her wings, trying to stay balanced against the sudden movement, and finally jumped off and trotted away down the driveway.
I had a library experience today. On the advice of my partner, I installed libby on my android phone, and gave it my library card and pin. The electronic titles are limited, but I put myself on a waiting list for a Ted Chiang collection called Exhalation, and forgot about it.
I got a notification this morning! My book was available! I checked it out for 21 days! I read a Ted Chiang short story and thought new things!
I'm going to look around for a Gutenberg app. There have to be several.
There's an F15 flyover scheduled for today from Santa Ana, up the Central Valley of California to Sacramento, over to Oakland, Fremont and San Jose, and back to Santa Ana, starting at 10:00 am. They'll fly over San Jose at around 10:56.
"in salute to to health care workers, first responders, and everyone on the front lines in the fight against COVID-19".
So the grocery person loaded my car and I offered my weird assortment of masks (Mickey Mouse in an Eagles uniform, Gritty, a galaxy print, and dragon+flames) and told her to pick one and she was like, "You're giving them away?" and now I'm thinking DO PEOPLE TRY TO SELL MASKS IN THEIR PARKING LOT (yeah, probably...) and then she picked one and double-checked "This is *free*?" and I need to throatpunch whoever has been scamming grocery loaders to make her expect a catch somehow. 😒
I miss "my" library. It was a shared experience: we all loved it together, without much interaction. Busy: kids and teens; young, middle aged and elderly adults moving or sitting; homeless people staking out furniture and niches and internet terminals. Staff shelving books from automatically sorted carts, or seated at desks, provided stable faces in a crowd of differences.
Checkout, checkin and payments were self-service in a fine old civic building that had been suitably remodelled to purpose.
First tick of the season, a small one, perhaps 3/16 of on inch across, and very lively. Didn't look at it closely, but it was likely a deer tick. I caught it crawling unattached but now I'm ticklish, with a dozen false alarms since.
It's from the deer, of course. One grazes regularly in the back yard. They shed ticks continuously, especially where they sleep.
I probably picked it up sitting at the drip irrigation controller, diagnosing and fulfilling its needs: battery, fuse, reprogramming.
I've followed someone here adversarially, for the first time. It's a recent user with a strong "pandemic is fake" message that quoted some credible-looking sources. From time to time I dig through contrarian or robotic claims like this to find what I think of as the nugget: the pivot where bad faith is applied to produce the desired spin.
It's about doubled the traffic I read, though, and it's not great stuff, so I have to finish this exercise soon.
I curate and cull carefully when I follow.
I changed the battery in a peeping smoke detector last night, and it didn't work. The old battery lasted a little over 4 years. When I tested it, the alarm was nearly inaudible.
I opened it up to see what I could do. It's an old ionization detector, from 1994. It has about a dozen discrete resistors in it, all gold-banded (5% tolerance!). The piezo disk was tarnished, and the contacts on it had shifted a little when I took it down from the ceiling.
A gentle scrape and reassembly fixed it!
Diagnosis confirmed. There's no retinal damage (only about a 15% chance of that anyway), with some not-unexpected bruising of the optic nerve. Followup with routine optometry in a week or so.
Yay, but meanwhile my left eye is a persistent reminder of senescence. I estimate over ten thousand new floaters, single points, whose varying presentations provide inescapable insight into the complex flows of my vitreous humor; and a larger one, the hula hoop, added to my personal ocular constellations.
Night before last I noticed spatially organized and temporally repeated flashes of white light on saccadic eye motion, with brightness proportional to the angle subtended by the start and stop of the motion.
Shit. But no loss of vision or visual field, so wait and see. 12 hours later, a sudden dark floater appears like ink, dissolving into myriad dots, completely novel and terrifying. Self-diagnosed as likely Posterior Visual Detachment, called in for emergency optometry on a COVID-19 Saturday.
I'm writing my monthly report, and combining three of them into my quarterly report. I keep copious notes as I work, about 700 words a day, and as I read them I experience a strong echo of what I felt when I was writing.
There's no novelty to be had in the task: it's all been felt and done already. I strip it of fine detail, compact it by topic, arrange it in logical order, and then proofread for proper tense.
It like Groundhog Day, reliving each quarter in the 16 hours it takes me to finish.
Slice of life.
I wear an extrovert mask.
Someone called me a polymath.
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