The top was pretty easy to cut, the sides were only tricky in that I had to match the reverse slant of the concrete, then use a backsaw and chisel to cut in the sill at its eight degree slope. Fitting the bottom was kinda awful. I'd misjudged my eight degrees, that was too much, so I had to plane off a large quantity of the front bottom edge of the sill to clear the concrete, and that left me with a horrible sliding block puzzle: the concrete tilts downwards so the side boards have to be put in place by tilting them in, but the sill won't slide into its slot because there's concrete in the way. If it were all assembled in place it would be perfect, but there's no way to get it assembled in place.
So I chiseled one slot wider, with a bevel, so I could load in one side piece, the sill, then put the other side piece diagonally into the window, raise that side of the sill, get it into the slot in the side piece, then push the side piece into place, and finally jam in the top piece like a keystone.
And after all that, once everything was in place the window wouldn't open because it hit the back edge of the sill, as the sill was touching the concrete and slightly bowed upwards.
I got to undo everything and hand-scrape the sill to fit. This is a technique I learned from gfish and Neuro. Usually it's done to make a dead flat surface, but I used a variant to match two surfaces. I scrubbed the sill back and forth on the concrete, flipped it over, and chiseled out anything that had been marked by the concrete, then put it back in and scrubbed it again. After about 20 iterations of that, I have something that's flat, well-supported by the concrete (as it touches in about 15 spots), and clears the window.
Now it needs to be painted and have some silicone caulk applied.
Wood shavings everywhere:
I mostly used my Stanley #4 plane, aka the Stanley Sweetheart, and that damned vorpal wood chisel from the 1880's that wants to draw blood every time I get near it. It does an amazing job in redwood, let me tell you what. But I did have a chance to use my Stanley #8, a plane that is quite a bit longer than my forearm/hand. It removes a *lot* of wood per pass, a strip 35mm wide that is painfully hot when it comes off the blade, and the reason I rarely use it is that I'm not strong enough to use it to its full capability. It requires more power than I can provide.
But at least it's done.
"I know that there are people who think that this is odd. They take their comfort other ways -- from liquor or from God. Now sometimes prayer can call me or a drink helps get me through, But nothing is so healing as the days I spend with you." -- from "My Thousand Closest Friends" (1991) by Naomi Pardue
The very last chapter of this book involved an interesting section about insanity and guns, a topic that has come up a lot lately. Most people suffering from mental health conditions are more likely to be the victims of crimes than mass shooters. He believes the people that we should most be worried about are paranoid patients. He mentioned Adam Lanza a couple of times in this book.
I was a little put off by the way that he discussed his large black male patients in terms of dehumanizing cliches such as having shoulders as wide as goal posts.
"Don't push that button! Jesus, Ron!
Don't push that button! Or we're gone.
I know you hate the 'Russkies,' and wish they'd go away,
But dodging falling A-bombs would just ruin our whole day!
Don't push that button! Jesus, Ron!
Don't push that button! Or we're gone.
A war would be the worst thing our world had yet endured.
Destruction would be mutu'lly assured."
-- from "H
a Question" by Roger Clendening II (to the tune of Duane Elms' "Don't Push That Button")
(A quality toy spinthariscope taken from a 1950s Chemcraft brand "Atomic energy" chemistry experimentation set)
The spinthariscope was invented by William Crookes in 1903. While observing the apparently uniform fluorescence on a zinc sulfidescreen created by the radioactive emissions (mostly alpha radiation) of a sample of radium bromide, he spilled some of the sample, and, owing to its extreme rarity and cost, he was eager to find and recover it. Upon inspecting the zinc sulfide screen under a microscope, he noticed separate flashes of light created by individual alpha particle collisions with the screen. Crookes took his discovery a step further and invented a device specifically intended to view these scintillations. It consisted of a small screen coated with zinc sulfide affixed to the end of a tube, with a tiny amount of radiumsalt suspended a short distance from the screen and a lens on the other end of the tube for viewing the screen. Crookes named his device from Greek σπινθήρ (spinth´ēr) "spark".
Spinthariscopes were quickly replaced with more accurate and quantitative devices for measuring radiation in scientific experiments, but enjoyed a modest revival in the mid 20th century as children's educational toys. In 1947, Kix cereal offered a Lone Ranger atomic bomb ring in exchange for a box top and 0.15 USD that contained a small one.Spinthariscopes can still be bought today as instructional novelties, but they now use americium or thorium.
(thanks to acelightning for the word!)
I have a friend coming from out-of-town – from one of those more landlocked places – who would like to go out for seafood. I'm abashed to admit, my answer to the question of where I go for seafood around here is "New Hampshire", which is not compatable with our plans. I am nursing a grudge against Legal, and just about all the places I used to go are out of business.
They're a foodie, will be staying in Somerville, and will be getting around on the T.
Where should we go?
Including especially the color. Pyin is the name of the whitish compound that gives pus its color. Coined from Greek pýon, pus.
And that's our week of four-letter words. Back next week with the regular mix, unless I come up with another theme.
"Oh, take your time don't live too fast.
Troubles will come and they will pass.
Go find a woman you'll find love
And don't forget son there is someone up above.
And be a simple kind of man
Be something you love and understand [...]"
-- from "Simple Man", written by Ronnie Van Zant (b. 1948
d. 1977-10-20) and Gary Rossington (b. 1951-12-04)
lunt (LUNT) - (Scot.) n., a slow-burning match or fuse; smoke esp. from a tobacco pipe. v., to produce or emit smoke.
This dates back to at least the 1540s, and comes from Dutch lont, match/fuse, and is akin to Middle Low German lunte, match/wick, but where it comes from before that I can't find.
See? A four-letter word.
I called the landlord yesterday, left a message about it. There's construction going on on the floor below me, but I asked one of the guys if they're working on the plumbing and he said no.
It's still doing it.
How worried should I be? What scenarios could be causing this?
By vitreous is meant it was glass but now has been granulated. The latter is the more common meaning -- the stuff that, once melted, will be turned into glass glassmakers now more commonly called a glass batch. Adopted around 1660 from Italian fritta, from feminine past participle of friggere, to fry, from Latin frīgere, to roast/fry, referring to the calcining preprocessing. (SO, yes, a fritter is something fried.)
[Though I think taking it too far and living as if "I don't have to work toward this because it's already done," might be counterproductive. Still work to make the change you want catch up to you.]
The word itself is little used in conversation these days, but it does live on in the names of various companies.
Etymology: Latin celeritas, swiftness. Think 'accelerate'.
'Celery' has unrelated origins (from selinon, parsley).
This week's word comes from the introduction to Fairy Tales from the Brothers Grimm by Philip Pullman.
Cultivated plants with corms include crocus, gladiolus, some irises, taro, and arrowhead. Different from a tuber, which is a swollen root or rhizome and can be used for propagation, and a bulb, which has layers (see: onion). Adopted in the 1820s from French corme, from Latin cormus, from Ancient Greek kormós, trunk stripped of its boughs, from keírein to cut off/hew.
Right now I'm battling a spigot. We have frost-resistant spigots on the house, and both have now failed to a lesser or greater extent, one no longer working at all but at least not leaking, and the other leaking at somewhere between the rate a dog would pee and maybe a drop every two seconds if I mess about with it. Traditionally, frost-resistant spigots are easy to fix: you shut the house water off (or, in the case of my previous house, you turn off the cutoff valve I installed in the plumbing right in front of each spigot, for exactly this situation) and extract the spigot valve from the body and replace the gasket and you're good for another 15 years. Well, I shut off the house water and extracted the valve control hardware, and it doesn't have a gasket on the end. The entire valve control assembly is buried in the wall. The only access is by cutting a hole, either in the nice hardwood floor in the bedroom, or in the finished/textured drywall ceiling in the nonfiction library. I'm choosing the library.
corf (KORF) - n., a small wagon, sled, basket, etc. for carrying coal, ore, etc. in a mine; a basket or cage used to contain live fish, lobsters, etc. underwater.
The first is primarily British usage. In Middle English this meant generally any basket, from either Middle Dutch corf or Middle Low German korf, both probably from Latin corbis, basket.
"One week after Jeff Sessions changed DOJ policy by refusing to protect transgender people under Title VII and launched a sweeping license to discriminate against LGBTQ people, he's seeking credit for prosecuting a hate crime? We believe Americans deserve an Attorney General willing to address systemic discrimination and enforce policies and laws that prevent hate violence in the first plac
-- Sarah Warbelow, Human Rights Campaign Legal Director, 2017-10-15
Then last Saturday we went to Mary's for food and socialization along with Kate, Sarah, and Mary's nephew. We played a round of Citadels and one of Ticket to Ride. Mary made a bunch of tasty dishes and Sarah cooked a turkey breast and it was all excellent.
On Sunday afternoon we went to Tim & Stacy's, but we couldn't stay too long because my parents came into town to drop off a car for Leslie. We had dinner with them and Dave & Michelle (et al) at Cheddar's. Mom & Larry spent the night in our guest room and took off early the next day. I was planning to work from home because a big snowstorm was forecast, but it didn't accumulate on the roads, so I ended up going in to the office after all. Oh, and I remembered that it would be a smart idea to sweep dead leaves off the patio and clean out the gutters before the first big snow! So I felt all adult about getting that done on Sunday afternoon.
I made up for it by staying home on Wednesday after my dentist appointment. I had the other half of my deep cleaning, plus got a cracked filling replaced, and the after-effects of the anesthetic just knocked me on my ass. I actually napped for a couple hours after I got home. Felt human enough to go to my Board meeting that evening, which featured a very long group discussion with the Chief of Police, which was heartening (especially given how unpleasant the news is all the time these days). There's always room for improvement, but the impression I got is that things are generally on the right track and if there are any changes wanting to be made, they're small matters of implementation, not big course changes. (I should mention that if I ever post about the Inclusivity Board online, I am of course just presenting my own personal opinion, not speaking on behalf of the board. So there's your obligatory disclaimer.)
Went to Games Night at Chris's on Thursday, and otherwise there's not much else been going on. We did nothing at all social this weekend, just grocery shopping and chores. Didn't get all the things on my list done, but dealt with a bunch of them, including a number of "oh I need to remember to do that" items. I made low-carb jambalaya (substituting grated cauliflower for rice), which turned out pretty tasty. I also opened up a can of tomato paste and portioned the whole thing out into little 1 tablespoon dollops that I froze, instead of using a couple tablespoons and having the rest of it go bad in the fridge! So that feels like an accomplishment. Oh, and last weekend Mom brought a shoebox of tomatoes. I sliced up a couple of them and at them raw, and then made shakshouka out of the rest of them to use them up before they spoiled.
I got all of my tedious chores at work done (typing up QC details to hand off to my student, quarterly report for one of the grants, answering emails that require long essays to respond to properly) and was able to get a good start on building out the last chunk of my analysis framework, so I ended both this week and last feeling pretty good about my progress. Which is good, since I suspect that before I know it it'll be time to start prepping for presentation at conferences, and I'll need to have some results to actually prepare...
From the Quotation of the day mailing list, 2014-02-26:
"The late John Greenwood, Q.C, who served as Ontario's Assistant Deputy Attorney General in the late 1970s, had a signature line he used to deliver with a straight face. "Anybody can convict the guilty,' he'd say to visitors to his office, "the trick is to convict the innocent.' People laughed uneasily, sensing it may not be entirely a joke."
-- George Jonas, writing about John Greenwood in the National Post.
(submitted to the mailing list by Z.D. Hora)
The tarrasque is a gigantic lizard-like creature which exists only to eat, kill, and destroy. In most campaign settings, only one tarrasque is said to exist on each world. The tarrasque has a low intelligence and cannot speak. It is neutrally aligned, for despite its violent and savage nature, it lacks the mental capacity to choose between good and evil.
The book included hints that a lot of parents have probably seen elsewhere like praising children for effort instead of praising them for intrinsic traits like being smart.
Goals Completed: 10
Goals in Progress: 36
In my last post, I talked about participating in the Ango, turning inward to a more intense spiritual practice. Ango means, in traditional Japanese, Ango means 'peaceful dwelling' - and I could certainly use that. *smile* The Theme for the Ango this year in the local Zen Temple is 'Exploring the Self', and one is to make a vow of commitment in three of five areas: increased meditation practice, service to the Temple, study of the theme, lessening your personal impact on the Earth, and attending events or workshops.
I will be continuing my increased practice of meditating daily, reading and practicing with the text (Transforming and Healing, by Thich Nhat Hanh) and attending the Five Precepts class (Buddhist ethical living principles). Additionally, I will be speaking with the Zen Monastery for adding a week residency and participating in three days of silence.
But when at the commandline I do whois mydomain.tld the record that comes up is very terse, and has no information about me or how to contact me at all:
Domain Name: [mydomain.tld] Registry Domain ID: [REDACTED] Registrar WHOIS Server: whois.enom.com Registrar URL: http://www.enom.com Updated Date: 2015-10-[REDACTED] Creation Date: 2011-10-[REDACTED] Registry Expiry Date: 2021-10-[REDACTED] Registrar: eNom, Inc. Registrar IANA ID: 48 Registrar Abuse Contact Email: Registrar Abuse Contact Phone: Domain Status: clientTransferProhibited https://icann.org/epp#clientTransferProhibited Name Server: [REDACTED] Name Server: [REDACTED] DNSSEC: unsigned URL of the ICANN Whois Inaccuracy Complaint Form: https://www.icann.org/wicf/
That's what I get from both my mac terminal and the shell at my hosting company.
Adding "--verbose" doesn't change anything.
When I go elsewhere, say to whois.domaintools.com, I get the whole record I expect to see.
What's going on here, does anybody know? Is there some way to convince my local whois to return more full records?
Or sometimes more specifically, in botany, having a cortina, which is cobwebby remnant of the partial veil hanging from the edges of the cap of some mushrooms, particularly genus Cortinarius. But just cobwebby in general is good enough for me. Borrowed or coined around 1830 (no doubt by a naturalist) from Latin cortīna, curtain (and not, as you might expect, the Latin for cobweb, which is arānea).
My old Ford Cortina was very cortinate, having being colonized by spiders.
I cannot find it; it doesn't seem to be in the books that I had thought I'd seen it in. I'd like to find it again. I tried googling "einstein's letter to mathematician" and discovered that he apparently carried on a voluminous correspondence with every living mathematician at the time. Brute force searching isn't going to work.
Does anybody happen to recognize this passage by description?
Thinking about National Coming Out Day. I don't think there's anyone in my life or even kinda near my life who doesn't know that I'm transgender. And a lot of you know that I'm kinky, and some of you may know/remember than I'm polyamorous. (Well, 'ambiamorous' -- I can actually be quite happy in a monogamous relationship or a poly one, depending on whom I'm in the relationship with and how it develops. But I identify more as poly.) I've been "out" about all of that for a long time, even if not everybody has had the last two come up in conversation with me, so it kinda feels like i don't really have anything left to come out about. But maybe I do (though I said some of this in less detail last NCOD). Because several years ago I realized my identity was shifting and I felt a strong mental pressure to start making my body change too.
While many of you met me while I identified as "intergender" (because genderqueer wasn't a label yet when I chose one), my identity is no longer in-the-middle. A lot of folks who've run into me recently have heard this because they've asked -- either because asking about pronouns is a more normal thing nowadays or because they notice changes to my body, or both -- but I'm closer to the F pole on the gender graph than I was, and looking forward to seeing whether this journey carries me all the way there.
So here's my Coming Out Day thing, which (as I mentioned) folks who talk to me one-on-one a lot or have run into me and asked questions already know, but not everybody is up to date on: I have been on HRT for about five years, my pronouns are she/her (though I won't hold a "he" against anyone until I harmonize my gender-presentation with my gender-identity), I am trying to schedule a relevant minor surgery, I'm trying to work up my nerve to shave my beard (which feels like a bigger step than growing breasts or telling people or trying to schedule an orchiectomy), and I'm trying to pick a new name. Some of this is scary, more of it is wonderful, a bunch of it is both. Even though I haven't reached my destination (or figured out for sure what my destination is), that mental pressure to act is greatly reduced since I started taking these steps, my emotions seem to work a lot better on estrogens than androgens, and a lot of "mental static" that I'd gotten used to has gone away. (As Zinnia Jones has pointed out, not all symptoms of gender dysphoria are obviously that, until treating the dysphoria makes them go away.)
I stopped using conventional labels like 'gay'/'het'/'straight' to talk about my orientation a long time ago, and started just saying "attracted to women" and leaving the label as en exercise for the listener ... but did (do) identify as "queer". First because being trans (and especially for being visibly gender-nonconforming) I was already part of the queer community, and again because even though attraction to women didn't feel gay, it didn't quite feel straight either. (Because when my gender was in-between, which was the "opposite gender"? The labels 'bi' or 'pan' would have worked if I had been bi or pan, but I wasn't and AFAICT still am not.) Amusing thing though: I've assumed that most other people mentally tagged me as het, and while HRT did not change my orientation (it can do that, but I've never found out how common or rare it is), changing my gender does mean that the label for my orientation changes.
It's been said that coming out isn't a one-time act, but something that winds up being repeated again and again when meeting new people or joining new groups -- and that goes double for bisexuals and trans people. Like coming-out, transitions are scary and liberating and sometimes difficult ... and there's more than one. Even for a textbook story of a binary gender transition there are medical, legal, and social transitions which may happen at different times and aren't instantaneous. Of those, social transition is the scariest (and generally the most important). And I've already transitioned socially from male to genderqueer years ago, but here I am in the middle (beginning, I guess) of another social transition, from genderqueer to female or mostly-female, in the middle of medical transition, and looking into options & to-do list for legal transition. And y'know? Telling people one on one has been relatively easy (has gotten easier with practice), but standing up to the world and saying, "Here I am, I am changing, this is what I am doing," is a lot harder. So I guess I had something for National Coming Out Day after all.
BTW, what do folks think of the name Eftychia (Ευτυχια, /eff-ti-KHEE-a/ where the χ is sort of between a kh sound and a gh or really-rough-'h' sound)? Still making up my mind, but that one's in the running.
You ever get a vision stuck in your head in that way that usually only tunes get stuck? I've got one stuck in my brain right now, of a collie or a sheltie, dancing around a herd flock of velociraptors, herding them.
(Feathered, turkey-sized, real velociraptors, not big-ass movie ones.)
Chalk this up to my having just listened to a segment on The Current about necrofauna -- attempts to revive, or create approximations of, extinct species such as the mammoth and the passenger pigeon. (They mentioned dinosaurs as something they'll probably never be able to restore. But then a brief conversation with xpioti got velociraptors stuck in my head anyhow.)
Yes, there's a word for that: at different points in life cycle, Atlantic salmon are known as parr, smolt, grilse, grilt, kelt, or slink. Grilse are small for adult salmon -- if they wait till their second, third, or fourth year to spawn, the salmon are bigger (and better sport fishing). Dates back to Middle English, of unknown origin, though one dictionary suggests Welsh gleisiad, from glas, blue.
"The closet does have a benefit. It provides safety. Which at times is important. But remember, as long as you are in there, two other things will be too. Fear and shame." -- Anthony Venn-Brown, A Life of Unlearning - a preacher's struggle with his homosexuality, church and faith
[11 October is National Coming-Out Day.]
A good Shemini Atzeret to my friends observing it today, and an especially joyous Simchat Torah to all celebrating that either today or tonight/tomorrow! (And yes, I know what I just said -- 'joyous' + 'simchat' -- is kind of redundant.)
I spent a lot of the day chasing a wrapper flaw. Labview can call Windows dll's, through wrapper functions, and someone on our corporate labview development team had miswritten one of a series of nearly identical wrappers. I was talking to the people who wrote the SDK that the wrapper encloses, and they assured me that the SDK worked just fine, so I got to learn how to write my own labview wrappers. Turns out that's surprisingly easy right up until I needed to pass a pointer to an array, and then I was very happy that another person on the labview development team sent me the correct function before I spent another two hours fighting with that process.
(noun) A short strap fastened around the leg of a hawk or other bird used in falconry.
(verb) To put jesses on.
Etymology: old French jet, something thrown
Last year I stumbled across a barn sale that had a box of free items, including a frog song identification cassette tape and a well-worn pair of jesses. I took the frog tape and left the falconry equipment. Tough call, but I have a cassette player, and I don't have a falcon.
More generally, related to eating, but the connotation of the Latin root, edere, was voracious consumption, and that carried over into English -- in part because of Ovid's line tempus edax rerum, time devours everything. This is a surprisingly late import into English -- first used in 1829, though note that edacity dates from the 1620s.