Author: Peter Jones

Down with the record
Down with the record

Hahaha. But seriously.

There ain’t nothing but sweat
inside my hand

.
But, no. So I should learn to use Blender so I can model the den. Not for having a meaningless project, but because in running out of imaginary real estate in there. I have a closet, bookcases, computer, shredder, sewing machine, and I still need a proper work bench. I also want to get my vegetable factory going, brewing is going to happen, and I have no idea what else.
Now my faithful readers may be like Peter, you always write that you need to learn to blender, but you never do.  Totally true, my goals usually start in the stretch region which causes me to put it on my to do list and never jump in, mainly because it sounds like a lot of work to do what I’m planning and have to learn what I’m doing at the exact same time. My last learn Blender subject involved physics modeling, in this case I only need to make sure I’m not clipping. I might add detail and light to the scene as time progresses, so as to virtually be able to plan for the feng shui, or, assuming ambition kicks into overdrive, map the sun’s rough path across the sky through the year, varying it’s brightness as well, take the stunted horizon lines as the room is in a pit and then use multiple virtual light sensors to better strange plants. But that is a stretch. I mean seriously, that shit sounds hard.
It also sound dope. Plus one I get everything working right, it should be pretty well transferable to other locations knowing the original qualifications and taking some preliminary measurements.
Maybe a hide-a-workbench.

Every time the Wif’s family is living with us, I migrate my life around. This includes the great bathroom cleaning, work clothes facilitation for the work week, and sheltering in place for my gear. Today when I got home, after only a few short days of normality, I came home to my laundry of having migrated itself.
See, I have my own bathroom, partly to load balance, partly to enable dual showering, and partly to not interfere in her bathroom. As a red blooded American male, I leave my spoiled laundry to languish on the floor, facilitating my occasional need to double dip on a pair of pants or prioritize cleaning based on utility rather than some base characteristic like timeliness or filth level. On the other hand, my clothes, which are totally in a room she had no need to ever enter, and the way they are displayed for me to peruse in seconds, stress her it. I, in the name of peace, choose to acquiesce.
As it is, one of my numerous todos, has been to migrate things that aren’t mine further away from things that are. So I have a closet in the den. It has incredibly useful things like sleeping bags, an unused snowboard, a couple of helmets and a wedding dress. Now admittedly, my blood is probably forever stuck in those button loops on the dress, but that is the extent of possession.
Well that’s getting fixed. I took out some recycling and verified the closet is now accessible. So this stuff is getting taken care of. Soon, my clothes will be happily defended and in a place of my choosing.

The FCC’s decisions to, at a minimum, drag it’s feet on net neutrality is getting on my nerves. In my professional opinion there is no reason why someone should be able to build on the right-of-way without being tagged as a utility. In that note, I “intentionally” went over my phone’s bandwidth quota this month. With Virgin, I’m not getting charged more or shut off, instead I’m throttled. This throttling is kinda bs. Just saying.
I now remember the pain of an internet slowdown.

So the Wif I’d feeding the homeless tonight a delicious dinner… wherever she does that. I think it’s great what she’s doing, but strangers tweak the fuck out of me sometime. I am not the person you want to provide compassion and community.
So tonight I think I’ll get tossing out some recycling and garbage. Unpack my angel and start tearing it down. Once I know what I have, I’ll have to decide on the first augmentation. Guessing I’m going to be replacing the power supply, maybe even start looking at solar options coupled with a battery. I think I want too strap a microcontroller up in her, probably use get as the first protect to use my arduino, after I feel good on the results, get a teensy out gemma out something.

The house I’d getting back to normal, so it’s time to get to work. Last night, rather than doing anything useful, especially after the joy of my commute home, I played some State of Decay, decent game. The logic behind some of the mechanics is less than stellar, but it is fun.
That was last night though. Before bed I hunted down one of my electronics books, and think I finally understand how a transistor works. I think. I have an entire to-do list of projects to get on.
First order of business well probably be light. The garbage and recycling are picked up today so I’ll have room to unpack my finger optic angel, with a bit of finagling I think I might be able to make that into a viable and efficient light source. It’s still in its box right now so I’ll find out tonight. Based on age the amount of light I think I engender it putting out, I’m guessing it’s using an appliance bulb. So, figure out what’s in it, and then decide what I’ll do to bend this captured angel to my will.
Of course while working on things like this I also have work on just making my den of inequity habitable. I need to get our more recycling. I need to play more Oliver North. I need to remove more labels from me beer bottles. I actually got on that one again last night.

There are days I hate this shit. Not to the level that I would want to drive in rush hour, but like I should really do something where I can telecommute our something.  But without the tele-, hate talking on the phone.
Today’s evening commute started with either my bus being a no show or really early or double-dog really late. Either way in an effort to make it home faster I chose option two. Option two isn’t too bad except that it’s second leg starts up with a crap incline to the stop, has every dreg of the u-district on it, and meanders through half of Seattle. In an effort to get home earlier I text the wif my regarding predicament as, if I stay on the first bus over stop and five extra minutes I end up at the Northgate park-and-ride. Which, if she picks me up there cuts off 15 minutes to hour of my commute with 20 minutes of her efforts. Unfortunately, she didn’t get back to me until I was already off the bus and waking up to the bus stop where my bus is leaving.
But I digress, did I mention the fuck head with his vaporizer? Guy obviously didn’t get the memo that that shit isn’t cool on the bus, otherwise I’d be drinking from a hip flask and in a much better mood. And then some ass got on the bus, and despite my still,  relatively, svelte frame he couldn’t shit down without half ways sitting on my leg. This guy proceeds to watch, with what I can only assume is a simpleton’s wonderment me playing sudoku. Now if he had been rich our influential and saw my mad puzzle solving skills that works have been cool, but he got off in the u-district, so I can only assume he’s an intern.
Now I’m on the 48, with practically an empty bus meandering around Greenlake, posting to a blog about first world problems.

I ground down two gallons of my apples last night in the food processor and tried to extract using a sieve. It was not fruitful. The grinding itself took far longer than I thought it should, and there was apple slurry spilling everywhere even after I remembered how to use the damnable device.  When it came to putting the filth through the sieve, the only time I was getting any extraction was by using a spatula to create a small high pressure zone along the sieve. I think by next season I’ll go ahead and build a new press. I’ll build it the way I should have built this one. I’ll build it with love, or maybe some forethought.
In the next couple of weeks I’ll just buy 16 cans of concentrate of some bullshit. That’s the ticket.

I still need to redo the theme with dynamic image handling and shit. A couple posts ago I made the mistake of doing it on my computer, I figured I would just grab the accent picture off of Instagram. Oops. I appreciate they want to make it difficult for others to grab your pictures, so I logged in. No dice. I suppose I could do a little bit of work and grab it that way, or I could share it over to my desktop. However, all of the above is a work around for the weird quasi-ownership inherent to Instagram, and the rest of social media for that matter.
Is the picture mine. I took it, however it’s only published state is after adding one of a handful of stock filters, and maybe some rudimentary attempt at cropping. Does what Instagram provides with their app create a new derivative work that dependent on the current TOS, belong to them now? I’m not trying to be all tinfoil hat, I don’t think Instagram our anyone else for that matter wants my photos. But. The dreaded but. Nothing has ever been done with malicious intent or suspect ethics except in hindsight.
More importantly, I want more. I want borders. I want photos that match the theme, even after the theme changes. I want room service!

Get the cider going and have a chance, I need to get the cabinet at my parents. Perfect size for slapping a cannot with an airlock on the top, and easy enough to vent, insulate, or whatever. Dynomite! Look at hooking up a computer fan for increased vent flow, potentially mounts for my bucket on the top. I should look at temperature monitoring, make sure I’m staying on the sweet spot for the fermentation. I’ll probably over ferment, just because I really don’t want exploding beer/cider. Best way ever to put an end to this experiment. After I bottle… ooh! Science! Once the brew is bottled, take a temperature. From that, and the height of brew in said bottle, we can determine the gas pressure. As the natural carbonation occurs, the brew will warm with increased pressure based on the last of the great doing it’s thing. Genius. If course, I’ll need to determine the failure point of the bottles. I should email Kristi (one of my sisters). The question of the day being is increasing the temperature of a bottle to undissolve gas bubbles going to increase or decrease the pressure holding capability. It’s not like I’m going to get any where close to that pressure, but there is being sure and they is being certain.
I also have an angel now. No, really, it’s some weird light up angel thing that my mom found to be a little off. I figure I’ll turn it into a light source art some point. After the household goes back to normal. Do we want to make it a Weeping Angel, or something out of the Styx song Come Sail Away? Maybe something different, something new. Basically it’s going to be an awesome lamp. An illuminated lamp. Hahaha!
Then there is the desk, um still not getting like it’s as sturdy as I want. I’m going have to look at beating on some more sheet metal, probably using my failed press as a fulcrum. I really need to get something going across the back to tie it all together. After that it’s just a matter of augmenting and decor.