Filed under: Connections, Faith healing, Gardening, Habanero, Predictions, Science Fiction, Survival, Wales, Writing stuff | Tags: Bhut Jolokia, blogging, Carolina Reaper, Communion of Dreams, ethylene, gardening, Habaneros, hope, hot sauce, jim downey, Llangelynnin, Moruga Scorpion, predictions, Science Fiction, Sriracha, St. Cybi's Well, Wales, Wikipedia, writing
I took advantage of the cool but beautiful Spring day and did this yesterday:
That’s about 40×40. Good deep churn to about 10″ depth. The soil conditions were just about perfect. Now it’s prepped for me to plant things in a couple more weeks (it’s still a little too early here for tomatoes and Habaneros). And surprisingly, I don’t hurt nearly as much today as I expected.
Back to work on St Cybi’s Well. All that time tilling yesterday gave me a chance to think through some things.
* * *
From page 261 of Communion of Dreams:
“Who, Darnell? Who was she?”
The old man blinked, focused on Jon. “My sister, Megan. Somehow, she found th’ courage t’ step up, t’ look past th’ things that they’d always taught her about science ‘n medicine, t’ trust a small blue-white light that she could feel grow under her skin whenever she came close t’ someone with th’ flu. That light would seep out ‘n into ‘em, givin’ ‘em strength ‘n th’ ability t’ fight th’ virus.
“That was hope. That was real. Some of us were able t’ learn t’ find th’ light ourselves, ‘n she showed us how t’ allow it t’ grow, t’ become strong enough t’ reach out ‘n heal th’ others.
Guess what happens in the chapter I am currently writing.
* * *
Hope isn’t always real, or realistic. I’ve seen far too much of life to think otherwise. Likely, you have as well.
But sometimes it is. I picked these today:
That’s probably about 250 peppers. Most of them Bhut Jolokia. But a fair number of Carolina Reaper and a few Moruga Scorpion peppers. All three are recent or current “world’s hottest pepper” record-holders. And like last year, I’m going to box them up for a few days so that they can become fully ripe. I have not quite as many others I picked earlier and have frozen.
So, what does hope have to do with these?
Well, we had a *very* wet spring and early summer. Enough so that I thought that this year’s Habanero crop would be a complete loss. The plants were stunted, sickly, and very late to blossom.
But sometimes late bloomers will surprise you.
Filed under: General Musings, Architecture, Failure, Rube Goldberg, Humor, Weather, Preparedness, University of Missouri | Tags: jim downey, blogging, humor, weather, architecture, University of Missouri, home repair, roofing, historic building, horror
… more House Horrors!
OK, this time it’s not nearly as bad as it was last year. But nonetheless, I don’t think this is exactly what most people mean when they talk about having a “green roof“:
Yeah, probably a safe bet.
So, this is the small roof of an unused porch on the front west of our house, which is a “Notable Historic Structure“ built by the first dean of the MU medical school in 1883. We’re fairly sure that this porch used to be a separate entrance for the dean’s private office/surgery, which is now our living room. At some point the door was closed off and turned into window, so now the porch is purely decorative and out of the way. As such, it tends to not get a lot of attention … including, unfortunately, maintenance.
But I was doing some other work up on the roof, and noticed that this small porch was to a point where it really needed some work. Eventually we’ll replace the steps and perhaps the floor of the porch, but first we needed to do some roof repairs.
Originally, this porch just had a sheet metal roof, over 1″ thick decking. But when the sheet metal started leaking, applications of roofing tar were applied in an effort seal the leaks. And for more than 100 years, that’s the only attention that it got. With the result that there was dried (and cracking/leaking) tar almost an inch thick in place over the whole small roof (it’s about 4’x8′).
To repair it was straight-forward: remove the old dried tar, repair the sheet metal as necessary, and then put down an appropriate proper flat roof.
To see that process, follow me below the fold:
Filed under: Alzheimer's, Amazon, Hospice, Humor, Kindle, Marketing, Promotion, Science Fiction | Tags: Alzheimer's, Amazon, blogging, care-giving, Communion of Dreams, free, health, Her Final Year, hospice, humor, jim downey, John Bourke, Kindle, promotion, Science Fiction
Except fish. Fish don’t like books. At least as far as I know.
Filed under: Brave New World, DARPA, Government, Heinlein, Paleo-Future, Predictions, Robert A. Heinlein, Science, Science Fiction, tech | Tags: 1812, Annie Jacobsen, DARPA, Joe Haldeman, Paul F. Gorman, powered armor, Robert A. Heinlein, Starship Troopers, The Atlantic, The Forever War
Seems like an appropriate subject for post #1,812:
Gorman sketched out an early version of the thinking in a paper he wrote for DARPA after his retirement from the Army in 1985, in which he described an “integrated-powered exoskeleton” that could transform the weakling of the battlefield into a veritable super-soldier. The “SuperTroop” exoskeleton he proposed offered protection against chemical, biological, electromagnetic, and ballistic threats, including direct fire from a .50-caliber bullet. It “incorporated audio, visual, and haptic [touch] sensors,” Gorman explained, including thermal imaging for the eyes, sound suppression for the ears, and fiber optics from the head to the fingertips. Its interior would be climate-controlled, and each soldier would have his own physiological specifications embedded on a chip within his dog tags. “When a soldier donned his ST [SuperTroop] battledress,” Gorman wrote, “he would insert one dog-tag into a slot under the chest armor, thereby loading his personal program into the battle suit’s computer,” giving the 21st-century soldier an extraordinary ability to hear, see, move, shoot, and communicate.
At the time Gorman wrote, the computing technology needed for such a device did not yet exist. By 2001, however, DARPA had unveiled two exoskeleton programs, and by 2013, in partnership with U.S. Special Operations Command, DARPA had started work on a super-soldier suit called TALOS (Tactical Assault Light Operator Suit) unlike anything in the history of warfare. Engineered with full-body ballistics protection; integrated heating and cooling systems; embedded sensors, antennas, and computers; 3D audio (to indicate where a fellow warfighter is by the sound of his voice); optics for vision in various light conditions; life-saving oxygen and hemorrhage controls; and more, TALOS is strikingly close to the futuristic exoskeleton that Gorman first envisioned for DARPA 25 years ago, and aims to be “fully functional” by 2018. “I am here to announce that we are building Iron Man,” President Barack Obama said of the suit during a manufacturing innovation event in 2014. When the president said, “This has been a secret project we’ve been working on for a long time,” he wasn’t kidding.
Yeah, though I’d say it was much more like the powered armor from either Starship Troopers or The Forever War than Iron Man. But then, something like military applications of a powered exoskeleton is hardly a new idea, no matter how you want to look at it. And it certainly isn’t surprising that this is something DARPA has been interested in, as I have noted in a number of previous posts.
Still, interesting to see it actually being translated into reality.
Filed under: Architecture, Art | Tags: architecture, art, Historic City of Jefferson, Hurst John, jim downey, Martha John, Mid-Century Modern, The State Historical Society of Missouri
This past weekend the organization Historic City of Jefferson hosted their 10th Annual Homes Tour, featuring the historic architectural designs of Hurst John. Prior to the tour of homes, a presentation about the work and aesthetics of Hurst John was made by his daughter, Martha K. John. Martha is herself a registered architect, a member (and former state board director) of the American Institute of Architects, and serves on the Missouri State Board For Architects, Professional Engineers, Professional Land Surveyors and Professional Landscape Architects. She is also my wife of nearly three decades.
Hurst John is widely considered to have been a master of what is now known as Mid-Century Modern design. His homes are highly sought and command a premium in the market. His designs have readily-recognized characteristics. He was known for attention to detail and close supervision of construction. And his papers & architectural plans are collected at The State Historical Society of Missouri.
It was a fun event. Martha’s presentation about her father and his work was informal, relaxed, informative. The displays of Hurst John’s plans and sketches were a glimpse back in time, a chance to see how early consideration of natural lighting and use of recovered materials presaged modern passive solar and recycling efforts. And the tour of the homes was just a delight — it was the first time either Martha or I had ever seen the interior of any of these residences, and it was enjoyable to see how her father’s vision still remained after half a century of use and occasional renovations. I’m going to include a bunch of images from the event ‘below the fold’ under my name. Check it out if you would like to see some of what wasn’t covered in the links above.
Filed under: Writing stuff, Science Fiction, Google, YouTube, Travel, Wales | Tags: jim downey, writing, blogging, travel, Science Fiction, video, www youtube, photography, St. Cybi's Well, Wales, Google Earth, Paul Levy, Llangelynnin, snowdoniaguide.com, afineline.org
The title of the next chapter is “Llangelynnin” (which refers to the church/churchyard, rather than just the holy well at this site — this is a change from what I had originally planned), and in doing a little research I found this nice bit of video:
The holy well isn’t shown in this video, but is basically directly below the drone at about the 0:13 mark. It can be seen at the very southern point of the wall enclosure here, and in an image in this entry. Some of my source material is drawn from this travelogue from 2006 (towards the bottom of that post). And I think the video gives a very nice feel for the remoteness of the site, and why I have wanted to include it in the story I am telling.
Oh, I haven’t said in a while, but I now have approximately 85,000 words written (that’s actual novel, not including notes or reference material), with about 25,000 – 30,000 to go before I’m finished (and a fair amount of that is partially done already in notes and reference material). So I’m not in the closing stretch, but am getting there. It’s progress, anyway.
Filed under: Art, Book Conservation, General Musings | Tags: art, blogging, book conservation, bookbinding, E. Forbes Smiley, honesty, http://narrative.ly, jim downey, maps, Michael Blanding, The Map Thief, trust
Excellent excerpt. You should read the whole thing, but I want to highlight this passage:
Smiley may have missed the X-Acto knife blade that fell from his pocket, but a librarian named Naomi Saito had not. The Beinecke’s librarians make regular sweeps of the room to ensure that materials are handled properly — and to subtly alert patrons they are being watched. As Saito had entered to make her check, she immediately spied the blade on the floor. Few objects could be more disturbing to someone who works in a building full of rare books than a tool that can separate the pages of a book from its binding. Saito picked up the blade in a tissue and walked back out of the room.
This is one of those things which sometimes surprises even me: that I am trusted to work on books which contain maps and other prints which are often quite valuable (or just those items themselves). Oh, I’ve earned that trust, and I and the clients I work with always take steps to document and protect the items I am entrusted with (the details of which I won’t go into, for obvious reasons) for the brief period of time I have them. But still, with my skill set it would be relatively easy for me to lift out the occasional item and leave no trace of it. Such trust — along with the trust that I won’t just screw up in my work and destroy something — is humbling. And a little scary, truth be told.