A Dyson shout-out...

A Dyson shout-out...  Debbie reported a problem with our Dyson Animal vacuum cleaner this morning.  Problems are my job. :)  I've written about this vacuum before; we've owned them for about five years now, and we're still amazed at what a great job they do.  We're a bit of a conspicuous consumer of these: we have four at the moment, an older Animal we brought with us from Jamul, two modern Animals like the one at right, and a portable. 

Today I just want to talk about the engineering that went into these.  It's superb, as becomes obvious whenever something goes wrong.  The problem Debbie reported was that it would run, but weakly, for about ten minutes and then shut down.  If you waited an hour or so, then it would run again, the same way.  We've had this happen before, so I knew exactly what it was: the vacuum motor was working too hard, overheated, and then had to cool down again.  There are really only two things that could make that happen: either airway was clogged up, or a filter was so dirty that it couldn't pass enough air.

So I needed to examine all the airways.  With every other vacuum cleaner I've ever owned (and I'm old enough that that's a disturbingly large number!), this would mean an elaborate and confusing disassembly.  Quite likely, it would need tools that I didn't have, or even proprietary tools (Kirby, I'm looking at you, you Communists!).  Not with the Dyson.  One snap-off plastic ring (no tools), one sliding inspection window (no tools), and one snap-off collection container (no tools), and I could examine all the airways.  Total time: about 15 seconds.  Total confusion and frustration: zero.

Our problem today was a piece of cardboard that had gotten stuck in the airway, obstructing it.  One push with a piece of wire and it was out, and the vacuum as good as new.  A few seconds later, I had it all put back together.  No tools.

Now any manufacturer could have made their vacuums easy to assemble and disassemble, at any time in the past 60 years or so.  It's just a bit of engineering, albeit inspired engineering, and a decision by someone to design it in a consumer-friendly way.  There are no magic materials required, no high technology.  Just engineering, done extremely well.  Any manufacturer could have done it, but none did until Dyson came along.  There's lots of other superb engineering in this machine that's obvious at a glance, too – not least of which is the miniaturized cyclone system that Sir James Dyson is justly famous for.  Other manufacturers are doing some of these things now, but they're doing it because Dyson has been so successful, commercially – they didn't (and wouldn't have, I suspect) think of these things themselves.  So I will give my vacuum business to Dyson, should I ever need to buy one again – great engineering like that deserves a commercial reward...

Paradise ponders, winter wonderland edition...

Paradise ponders, winter wonderland edition...  Well, the snow arrived essentially as predicted yesterday afternoon.  By the time we woke this morning there were about three inches of the stuff on the ground.  I was out shortly after daybreak to plow it before it started to melt (that's what the forecast said was going to happy) and got sloppy, or worse, icy.  So I plowed the driveway, used the snowblower where the plow couldn't get, and just as I put the snowblower away it started raining.  Inside of 60 seconds the driveway was perfectly clear, and now, just a few hours later, it's dry.  That worked!

But there's much more snow in the forecast, including up to 8 inches tomorrow...

Yesterday a technician (a guy my age named Jim) showed up from Darrell's Appliances, a local outfit that's given us excellent service on two prior occasions, both times with Jim.  This time we had him out to check out our two ovens.  Debbie's been frustrated with them because the temperature seemed higher than what she set.  Before we called Darrell's, I used an electronic thermometer to verify that both ovens were, indeed, out of whack.  Jim used a more sophisticated thermometer, a thermocouple-based one, and determined that one oven was actually dead on, but the other was almost 150°F hotter than it should be!  We're guessing that the one he tested as dead on has an intermittent problem in the thermostat, and the other is just plain broken.  They're ordering new parts and he'll be back out when they come in.  He was in our house for about two hours, doing a very thorough job, and holding an interesting conversation with us the entire time.  Here's the main reason I wrote this paragraph: that visit will cost us $79, but we haven't been charged yet.  They aren't bothering with that until after the parts are in and he comes out again to actually fix it.  I just love the assumption of honesty that's so common here.  No muss, no fuss, unasked for – they just behave that way by default...

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection...

Here's my mom (in the center), with my nieces Tami (left, the daughter of my brother Mark and his first wife Rolana) and Amber (right, the daughter of my sister Holly and her husband Warren).  The photo is dated (by the lab) as February 1986.  I'm guessing that my mom made the matching outfits.  The photo was taken in the living room of the house I grew up in, looking east.  Mark and his family were living at that time in the field off to the east, in a house that formerly belonged to my uncle Donald – a house that I helped build when I was nine years old, in 1961.  The door behind  my mom was our rarely-used front door.  The holly table I've mentioned before is to the right of it; it's now in my sister's home.  The rocker visible mainly in silhouette in the windows to the left is now in my barn.  In my dad's printing on the back: “Marci, Elinor, Tami”; my sister Holly wrote to tell me that this was wrong and gave me the correct IDs.  Marci wasn't even born in 1986!  She also notes that so far as she knows, this is the only “matching girls” outfit mom made that included one for herself.

These two photos look older than they actually are – the lab dated them as November 1969, but they look more like the '50s to me. :)  Both of these were taken in the living room of the home I grew up in.  They're showing a group of women quilting.  I remember seeing this a couple of times, and this photo was taken while I was still living there.  The only woman I recognize is the second from the left in the second photo; that's my aunt Marian (my uncle Donald's wife).  The woman just to the right of her, in a blue blouse, might be Mrs. Evelyn Denholm (and that's confirmed by my sister Holly), a family friend.  None of the others ring any bells at all, and unfortunately the photos are not annotated.  Since my mom isn't in them, I'm assuming that she's the photographer.  Holly tells me a story about one of these get-togethers, in which everyone was invited to bring some baked goods.  Our dog, Boots, “taste tested” every one of them by nibbling off the edges of the treats.  That must have been funny!  Holly also tells me that one of the quilters was Mrs. Kiernan, the first grade teacher that she, Scott, and I all had.  I have no memory of her appearance, so I can't identify her (and neither could Holly).  In the first photo you can just make out a thermometer mounted outside the large picture window.  That was an alcohol thermometer that a landscaping customer (I've forgotten which one) gave my dad.  He asked me to mount it, which consisted of screwing two screws into the outside window frame.  Sounds easy, but it was actually quite difficult: that frame was made of oak!  I didn't know about pilot holes back then, so I screwed those two screws straight into that oak and got a couple of blisters on my hand for my thanks.

This photo is undated, and is marked on the back in unfamiliar printing (large and crude): “Town Road”.  I've no idea where it was taken, by whom, or why; I include it here mainly because my mom kept it in the same envelope as some of her favorite photos of her dad.  Perhaps one of my siblings can give me a clue?

What a smile!  My mom printed “Marci” on the back, then scratched it out and printed “Tami” above it.  It's dated (by the lab) January 1987.  I can't quite make out what her shirt says – maybe “I’m a little Chillie”?  My sister Holly thinks this might say “Phillie”, but I think that spelling is actually “Philly”, and there's no sign of an “s” for “Phillies”.

The lab dates this as December 1958, and that is our Christmas tree, in our living room with the big picture window in the background.  I remember my mom taping those cards to the window a couple of years; the alternative arrangements was to have strings of them high on the walls.  I remember that coffee table well; I had to repair the legs on it several times.  Those legs screwed into metal brackets that were in turn screwed into the bottom of the tabletop; those screws kept stripping out of the soft pine when too much weight was put on the table.  The photo was apparently taken at dawn or dusk; you can just make out some of the scenery outside through the window.  In the distance there's a white house.  That would have been to our west, and it must have been the Ball's house, though I don't remember it as being so close.  I remember that big pot.  It must have been a gift for her that year.  I don't remember it as a gift; I remember it as the source of some of my favorite dishes. :)

Finally, here's one that's a bit of a mystery to me.  The photo is undated.  On the back, in very neat but unfamiliar printing:  “Took this at Mt. Ranier (sic) two years ago I believe Fawn Lily.  Remember?”  Google shows many images of similar flowers called Fawn Lily, so I suspect that's correct.  My father knew any number of people who might have taken such a photo, and who might have visited Mt. Rainier.  I found the photo in a pile of photos of nursery stock (plants in pots), where it stuck out like a sore thumb...

A better map of the 2016 election results...

A better map of the 2016 election results...  Friend, former colleague, and not-yet-escaped Californian Simon M. sent this along.  It's an interactive “prism map” of the county-by-county election results (a snapshot of this is at right).  The color of each county shows a summary of how the county voted, from dark blue for massively pro-Clinton to dark red for massively pro-Trump.  That much is familiar, as it's been used on many web sites.  The height of each county shows something else, though: the relative number of votes in each county.  Here you can see why even though most of the area of the country is red (pro-Trump), the massive number of votes in the blue (pro-Clinton) counties has even more votes.  Most of this map actually looks like a bunch of blue towers on a red lawn.  Utah has its own small blue tower, in the counties encompassing Salt Lake City.  All of the other blue towers are also counties containing cities.  On the entire map there are just a few reddish towers.

As I mentioned, the map is interactive.  Play with it for a few minutes and you'll gain some insight about the geographical dimension of our country's polarized politics.  For example, take a long look at Texas.  I spent some time looking at the population desert that is the part of the American West that I love, and that I live smack in the middle of – that bodes poorly for our future, I'm afraid, with massive populations all around us.  There's a blog post about the map as well.

Paradise ponders, broken weather forecast edition...

Paradise ponders, broken weather forecast edition...  The current weather forecast calls for a low temperature of 27°F today.  The current temperature is 7.1°F.  Apparently the weather man can't be bothered with looking out his window!  I ventured outside, very briefly, in just my jeans and short-sleeved shirt – I dashed out to turn on the yard lights when I let the dogs out.  I wasn't sure how awful it would be, but it actually wasn't too bad.  I got my coat on before I walked over to my office in the barn a few minutes ago – I think that 50' or so would have been too much in shirtsleeves at this temperature!  I enjoyed the crunchy granola sound my feet made in the snow; it's very different when it's so cold.

Well, yesterday I did manage to actually finish the last bits of the mud room wiring.  Even better: our builder showed up with the trim for the inside of the new front door, and he installed it.  This trim was tricky because it had to fit the curve of the arched top window – that's a bit hard to do with wood (though not impossible if you happen to own a steam cabinet).  Arched windows are common these days, though, and the construction industry came up with an alternative: flexible trim made out of a rubbery plastic, pre-curved to approximately the right radius and then adjustable (slightly) to fit the actual window.  Now I have a new job: caulk and paint that new trim. :)

I received a Fedex package from Tesla Motors, and of course my first thought was that they were going to tell me my car was ready.  Alas, that was not the case – though the first sentence was encouraging:

“Your Tesla Model X will be ready for delivery very soon.” 

Of course, “very soon” is one of those painfully ambiguous terms that could mean five minutes or five years.  Sigh.

So what was this package about?  Well, it turns out that it contained a temporary registration and an application for an actual registration, along with a form declaring delivery outside the state of California.  The temporary registration was for California, though – as was the application for actual registration.  Ack!  I thought there was some mistake, and immediately called my Tesla contact.

That's when I got a little education into the silly things that Tesla has to do in order to sell cars in Utah (and most other states, too).  They are not licensed to sell cars in Utah because the car dealers lobby has successfully (so far) lobbied to require new care sales to be handled through a dealer – not directly from the manufacturer.  Of course, Tesla has no dealers, they only sell direct.  This much I already knew, but I also knew that I could buy the car directly and then pick it up from the Tesla showroom in Salt Lake City.  I wasn't clear why that was ok even though the showroom wasn't a dealership, though.  Well, now I know.  It's because I have to buy the car through the state of California, then transfer my registration to Utah.  Tesla can deliver the car to Utah, but they can't actually sell it to me here.  So we play this silly game of buying it in California but delivering it to me here.  There's no money involved, just a bunch of paperwork – wasting everybody's time and energy but accomplishing nothing.

It's another great example of government getting in the way of a simple transaction, then of a business cleverly finding a way around the issue.  In this case, Utah – generally very much a pro-business state – is actually making it harder for Tesla to do business here, but is protecting a group (new car dealers) that donate a great deal of money to politicians each year.  At the same time, they're dealing themselves out of some sales tax revenue – I'm paying California sales tax, not Utah (and if you know me well, you'll understand just how much that pains me!).

The car dealership's behavior is certainly understandable: they make their money mostly on maintenance and warranty repairs, kickbacks on financing, upsells, and some on the direct profit margin of the car sale (though that's much less than most people think).  When cars broke down every few hundred miles (as they did when I was young), one could make a good case for the need of a dealer nearby, with a stock of parts and expertise.  Cars these days, though, are vastly more reliable than they used to be – and at the same time, modern logistics has practically eliminated the need for local stocks of parts (you can overnight a part from Shanghai if need be).  Then there's the fact that the Internet allows the instant delivery of any car's maintenance manual to any garage, almost anywhere on Earth.  What essential function does a dealer provide these days?  None, is the obvious answer.  So now that they can't justify their existence on business grounds, they've managed to get laws passed in many states that mandates their existence – and without those laws, they'd almost certainly be out-competed by alternatives.  One such alternative is Tesla with their direct sales model and manufacturer-provided maintenance, so they're fighting it as hard as they can.  I think they know that they're fighting a war they'll lose in the long run, but like a drowning rat they're paddling as long as they can...

Why most customer support organizations would like to strangle their engineering teams, part 77,432...

Why most customer support organizations would like to strangle their engineering teams, part 77,432...  This morning we received an electric heater that we bought to warm up our sun room in the winter.  The room is built with double-pane glass, but there's no heat to it, so the cold seeps in anyway.  We got one that resembles a wood-burning stove, complete with “flames” and glowing embers.  The photo at right is the store photo of the model we got.

Naturally, it was a kit, though it was an easy one: I just had to screw 12 screws into the four short legs.  I put it on its legs, turned the power switch on in the back, and started test it.  I could turn the front-panel power button on and off, control the timer function, and adjust the brightness of the fake flames and embers – but when I tried to set the temperature, I just got an “E3” in the numeric display.  I figured that was an error code, so I read the manual from front-to-back trying to find it.  No luck.  Then I called the manufacturer's service number (to their credit, prominently written on the manual) and got a recording saying they'd get back to me within a day.  I left the requested message and figured I'd be lucky if I heard from them within a week, given the season.

But an hour later, the phone rang and a friendly lady named Jolanda asked me what was going on.  I described the issue to her, and she said “Oh, you have the interlock switch on - you need to turn it off.”  I had not seen any interlock switch, nor did the manual mention one at all.  I did find a “heater enable” switch, and I had turned that on.  I told Jolanda that, and she said that that was the interlock switch, and it needed to be off, not on.  Huh?  You can see the switch and label on my unit in the photo at left.  Does that look to you as though you need the switch to be in the off position in order for it to work?  One can only imagine how many calls their poor customer support people are getting!  And all because some disconnected-from-any-sense-of-reality engineer decided that turning a switch on should turn the heater off.  I asked Jolanda if this “feature” was limited to this model, and she said “Oh, no, sir - all our heaters are made this way!”  You could cut her contempt for engineering with a knife.  I decided it would be better not to let her know that I was a retired engineer. :)

Pearl Harbor Day...

Pearl Harbor Day...  75 years ago today the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.  Over 2,000 Americans were killed, and more than 1,000 wounded.  The attack led directly to the American entry into WWII, both in Europe and in the Pacific.

A few days ago I read that amongst Americans under 40 years old, less than one in ten can identify the nations that were the attacker and defender in the attack on Pearl Harbor.  Less than half of those could place the event in the correct century, and only half of those in the correct decade.  Sometimes I'm a bit relieved to know I won't be around when that crowd is in control...

Paradise ponders, snowy future edition...

Paradise ponders, snowy future edition...  Check out our ten day forecast at right (click to embiggen).  All that purple area represents periods with a significant chance of snow.  If we were to hit the maximums on the snow forecasts, we'd have 26" of snow on the ground.  Yikes!

I did a bit of electrical work on the mud room yesterday, including the only challenging bits remaining (locating the holes I'd cut into the OSB sheathing before wall board was put up).  I've got a half hour or so to do today, and then the mud room is completely finished and ready for the cabinet maker to get started.  Woo hoo!  Well, come to think of it, that's not quite true.  On the outside of the mud room I have yet to mount a doorbell switch and the house numbers.  Next spring, when the ground becomes workable again, we'll be putting in a walkway to the driveway, putting stone over the concrete porch, and mounting railings.  So probably I should say the mud room is now usable.  Still a huge milestone for us!

Yesterday we had a load of firewood delivered, the first firewood we've actually purchased up here.  This is because we now have an actually working fireplace that we are using on a near-daily basis, and we've run through all the split firewood our neighbors gave us.  Also I wanted to get hardwood instead of the (mainly) softwoods we've been burning; it burns cleaner and hotter.  So I located a source, and he delivered his last available load of hardwood yesterday.  It's about 2/3 of a full cord, nicely cut to 16" or shorter, and split in a nice mix of sizes.  It's all dry, and best of all, it's all a mix of species: black walnut, black locust, oak, maple, ash, plum, apple, Chinese elm, and some others I can't identify.  I feel guilty burning some of this stuff, as it's gorgeous.  In fact, I've asked the vendor to save me some full logs (not split) for turning on the lathe next year.  He gets all this wood from the tree trimming he does, so it's all from people's yards within about a 50 mile radius.

We had our first fire with this wood yesterday evening, and it was all we'd hoped for: five piece of wood burned like a blast furnace for six hours; our heater didn't run at all in that time.  The recirculating hot-air system in our fireplace works great with such a hot fire.  One thing I didn't really anticipate: the hardwood smells good when its burning.  So far the plum wood is my favorite for the aroma.

Paradise ponders, almost single digits edition...

Paradise ponders, almost single digits edition...  As I write this, the temperature outside is 10.1°F; it's clear and the sky is full of bright stars.  My walk out to the barn at 5 am was a veritable crunch-fest – the snow remaining on the driveway had partly melted and then refroze in the cold night, turning the powdery snow into something like a fluffy ice cube.  I ventured outside onto our deck in just my shirtsleeves; it didn't really feel all that cold to me.  Acclimated, I am becoming...

Yesterday I got the lighting in the mud room all wired up and tested.  It all worked on the first try, amazingly enough.  The photo at right shows what our home's new entrance looks like at night, with both the chandelier inside the mud room and the lights outside turned on.

This lighting was just a bit trickier to wire up than you might think, because there is a feature we wanted that complicates things.  We wanted the outside lights to come on under either of two circumstances: when motion is detected outside, or when the interior chandelier is on.  We did not want the interior chandelier to come on if motion was detected – only if the switch was turned on.  Making this work required a double-pole, single-throw (DPST) relay.  The relay is energized when motion is detected.  When there is no motion detected, the outside lights are connected to the chandelier's switch.  When there is motion detected, the outside lights are connected to power.  Simple enough, but more complicated than a simple switched light.

Back in October, when the county inspector came out to check over the mud room's electrical work, this relay circuit was the subject of an amusing (for me, anyway) conversation.  The inspector had a basic idea of how a relay worked, but had never seen one used in a building.  He didn't know if there were any code requirements.  I showed him my circuit diagram, and he was completely lost.  Out loud he said that he didn't know any basis on which he could either approve or disapprove the work.  He asked me if I knew what I was doing. :)  I had mounted the relay inside a standard 4" utility box; other than the relay itself everything about the installation was bog-standard.  So, desperate to move the inspector past this obstacle, I pointed out that the relay was UL-approved.  “Well,” said the inspector, “that’s all right then!” – and with that we were approved. 

That made me curious, and I did some research into the building code myself (it's all online here, so that was easy).  I found just one reference, where it was mentioned (but not clearly mandated) that the relay be mounted in a metal box (I had used plastic).  I found no other mentions.  I'm guessing, therefore, that the use of relays in construction is really rare.  I'm surprised by this, as using relays in home construction could save a lot of copper wire (by running power straight to fixtures and outlets, instead of out-of-the-way through switches.  The U.S. Navy used this technique extensively on the ship I was stationed on (and, I presume, in other ships as well).  Their implementation was actually pretty clever: the circuit breakers in the central panel doubled as SPST relays; they were controlled by low-voltage switches connected by relatively tiny wires.  I could easily envision a modern equivalent where the circuit breaker/switches were controlled digitally and the switches using RF instead of wires.  How convenient that would be!

Paradise ponders, electric walnut edition...

Paradise ponders, electric walnut edition...  Yesterday was a day of getting things done, for me.  That was very satisfying, I'll tell you.

I'm listening to Christmas music as I type; Pachelbel's Canon right now.  I love Christmas music!

First thing in the morning, I went to work on the threshold between the mud room and our entranceway, which I've mentioned before.  I figured it would likely take me all day to get this right.  I had envisioned building it as three separate pieces of walnut: one on the bottom, matching the tile line in the mud room, a second on the bottom matching the tile line in the entranceway, and one on top that was shaped so that you didn't stumble on it, but which was tall enough to engage the weatherstripping “sweep” on the bottom of the door.  The first photo below shows the hole I was filling along with the three pieces of wood I cut; mud room on the left, entranceway on the right.  The second photo shows all three pieces of wood assembled in place, but not yet glued.  The third photo is the same, but with the top piece removed.  Next to last photo shows all the pieces in place and glued, and the last photo the same but with two coats of Watco natural penetrating oil finish.  Amazingly enough, it all worked on the first try.  It looks great, and seals the door very nicely.  We care about a seal here because we know the mud room will always be cooler in the winter: it's a small volume with all but one side exposed to the elements.  The only hitch I ran into during this work was that some of the mastic from both tile installations had to be chiseled out (hence the hammer and cold chisel visible in some of the photos).  I was all done by 10:30 am!

The weather outside was frightful, so I went to work on some interior electrical work that had remained unfinished.  First up: the sun room (photo of finished work at right).  I installed the three lights on the one solid wall.  That went without a hitch, except for the minor problem of figuring out how to get a ladder in there.  The only other thing left to do was the covers for the switches and outlets, and now they're all in.  Last night we tried the lights after dark, and they work great: lots of nice, even light throughout the sun room.

I still had most of my afternoon left after I finished this.  The temperature outside had risen to a balmy 38°F, and the forecast had this being the warmest day for at least ten days (and maybe all winter, for all I know), so I bit the proverbial bullet and decided to put up the lights on the mudroom exterior (photo of finished work at left).  My fingers are full of dry-weather cracks, made worse by both my Raynaud's disease and my pernicious anemia, so working out in dry, cold weather was ... unpleasant.  I got them both up, though, along with the motion sensor (just visible at the top of the arch).  I had a small challenge with the last step, mounting the motion sensor: the cover of the electrical box was missing its bolts, and nothing in my collection of bolts would fit.  I made a quick run to our local hardware store and bought 4 pairs of bolts: one pair for each of the weird sizes that it might possibly be.  It turned out to be 10-32 bolts that were needed, the last one that I tried.  Of course!  I couldn't test these lights, as I still have some interior wiring to do.  I expect to be working on that today.

By the time I'd finished with all this, it was about 3 pm and starting to get dark.  Earlier in the day, on one of my million or so trips to the barn for parts and tools, I noticed a 24 year old mare (Sally) belonging to one of our neighbors (Nick and Maria S.) standing in the corner of another neighbor's field right near my barn.  I went over to say hello, and noticed that its right rear ankle was bloodied.  I texted the owners, along with Tim (the field's owner) to let them know, including the photo at right.  All of them were in church, though, and weren't looking at their phone.  Just as I sat down for a rest, Debbie looked over to see her being harassed and bitten by Tim's two geldings (who are much larger than Sally).  They actually knocked Sally off her feet.  So up and out I went, to see if I could lead Tim's horses away and into another paddock.  Just as I got out there, everybody got out of church and called us.  Within a few minutes, we had Nick, Maria, four of their kids, Tim, his wife Jeannie, and I out there with the horses.  Tim has been around horses all his life, and immediately knew what was going on: Sally was coming into heat.  I hadn't noticed any of the signs, but later I did see them (raised tail and winking vulva).  His geldings, despite missing some parts one might think would be essential, were very excited; the larger one had probably kicked Sally, and hence the cut.  The wound got examined thoroughly and appeared to be a shallow cut above the hocks, so not serious so long as its allowed to heal.  A thorough washing was prescribed, along with possible veterinary treatment if the cut turned out to be deeper than it appeared, and Sally was led off to be in her own paddock.  I had two roles in this little animal drama: sounding the alarm (which I'm glad I was able to do!) and holding the lead while Tim and Nick examined the ankle.  This morning we saw Sally in her own little paddock, looking a little lonely but physically ok.

Paradise ponders, swinging from the chandeliers edition...

Paradise ponders, swinging from the chandeliers edition...  It seems like I spent most of yesterday on the road – I made two separate trips to downtown Logan to get parts for the work I'm doing in the house.  In the morning I hung a five-lamp chandelier in our new mudroom.  It looks nice, and it should throw plenty of light in there (can't test it yet, because I can't energize the circuit until I mount the two outside lights).  Today I'm working on the threshold for the door between the mudroom and the old entranceway.  This is a complicated piece of wood (black walnut) that will not only act as the door's threshold, but will also adapt between the slightly out-of-alignment tile patterns and slightly different sub-floor heights.  I'm going to use three pieces of walnut glued in place (well, at least that's the plan).  Each piece will be separately planed and sawed to fit its respective niche, and hopefully all three can then be glued together in place.

Yesterday afternoon, feeling lazy, we went out to eat at a place we've only been to once before: El Salvador, aka Los Primos.  The first time we visited was last week, with our friends Jimmy and Michelle.  We had a great meal then, and loved the homey, family atmosphere.  Today it was fairly busy when we got there, and we were the only non-Hispanics there – definitely a good sign for the authenticity of the food!  Debbie ordered the carne asada plate (first photo), and I had a chicken gordita (second photo) and carnitas sope.  Both were great, but the gordita was my favorite – so I ordered a second gordita, this time carnitas.  We had Jarritos from bottles for our drinks.  We were there for just over an hour, and only saw one other non-Hispanic family: German tourists.  This place hasn't been discovered yet!  Great food, friendly and smiling waitresses, and happy people all around us.  Even with a generous (and well-earned) tip, we got out of there for under $25.  It's on the south side of Logan, too – closer than any of the other restaurants we haunt.  We'll be back here often, I'm sure!

Debbie update...

Debbie update...  Short version: she's doing great!  She's walking now without any aids, and her gait visibly improves daily.  Her physical therapist has started preparing her to do her remaining therapy at home – he and his special equipment will soon be unnecessary.  Yesterday, for the first time since her injury in May, she used a normal treadmill for her exercises – a huge step!  She came home with a detailed printed set of exercises to do at home, with an emphasis on developing her bones.  She's still got a long way to go to get her muscles (especially her quads) back up to snuff, and her knees are still sore after exercise, but everything's moving in the right direction, and she's got nearly a normal range of motion in both knees.  She has very few activities that she can't do yet, but I think that list will be empty within just a few weeks...

Paradise ponders, Christmas party edition...

Paradise ponders, Christmas party edition...  One of the things we cherish about living here is the acceptance of us by the overwhelmingly Mormon local community.  One example of this: we were invited to the Christmas party for the Paradise church's Ward 2, which covers the area our house is in.  This was a chance for us to socialize a bit with our friends and neighbors, and for Debbie in particular to get out on her own two feet (no walker, crutches, or even a cane!).  The best part of all, for us: everyone there welcomed us as part of their community.  That's such a comfortable and safe feeling...

We had a lovely time at the party last night.  There were lots of people we know, and some we've become quite close to, and also some new people to meet.  Smiles and happy people were everywhere.  Home-cooked food was served for dinner (a fine roast beef dinner for the adults, macaroni-and-cheese and Swedish meatballs for the kids), with enough cookies and cakes to fatten us all up.  The highlight of the evening was a reenactment of the Biblical story of the birth of Christ, by the kids in the ward.  It was beautiful and cute, and with the entire audience comfortable in each other's presence, very relaxed.  A few of the kids were clearly enjoying themselves on stage, but most of them were terrified, of course – but they did it.  The audience cheered them on, encouraged them, laughed with them when something went wrong.  It was all very sweet, and reminded both Debbie and I of some childhood experiences.  It also brought home just how different the local culture here is from that of California, where we spent decades not feeling like part of the community.

We love living here!

Some photos of the kid's re-enactment, and the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Claus:

CarveZilla update...

CarveZilla update...  The first parts for mine arrived today: the rails for the X-axis carriage and the Y-axis carriage (photos below).  These are all 6' long (to allow us a 4' square working area), and are steel rods supported along their entire length.  Linear bearings with recirculating balls will hold the carriages.  We bought these from a source in China for about a quarter the cost of U.S. or Japanese sources.  We'll see how well they actually work out, but just moving them by hand they feel smooth as silk.  For that sort of price advantage, we figured it was worth taking a risk. These were packed quite nicely: wrapped in plastic, then the “rope” shown at right, then a layer of a sort of plastic burlap, another layer of plastic, a layer of thick, tough paper, and a final layer of plastic.  They arrived here from Shanghai in perfect shape.  That rope is interesting.  At first blush I thought it was sisal, but on closer inspection it appeared to be made out of grass leaves.  I did some research on it, and found that it's more likely made of bamboo leaves – that material is commonly used for cushioning sharp metal edges in Asia, as it's both relatively soft and very tough.  I can vouch for the latter: cutting it was far more challenging for my knife than sisal rope would have been...

Construction progress...

Construction progress...  Our projects are still putt-putting along, though at a much-reduced pace through the holidays and nasty weather.  Our mud room is currently the most nearly finished – the photo at right is a view of its inside, as seen from our entranceway looking south toward the front door.  We're pretty happy with how it turned out.  The finished room will look quite different, however, as there will be cabinetry along both sides of the room (left and right in the photo).

The tile guys were here this morning.  They grouted the mud room tile (photo at left), made a perfectly rectangular hole for me to cut a threshold for (for the door between the entranceway and the mud room), and repaired the broken tiles in the kitchen (from the installation of the door to the deck a month ago).  They did a great job on all parts of it.  Now we're waiting for tile to come in so they can finish our sun room.  We have no ETA, unfortunately...

Product updates...

Product updates...  About a week ago I received six small LED lights that are powered by three AAA batteries (each, of course) and contain a motion sensor.  These had great reviews on Amazon, though some people reported problems with the motion sensor part, and the photocell that keeps them off during daylight.  But for the price ($23.99 for all six, or just $4 each) I figured I wasn't risking much.  Well, I have no idea what the complaints are about!  For me, they work absolutely perfectly.  I used all six to light the stairwell leading from the first floor of my barn to the second floor, and the path through the second floor storage area to my office.  In the early morning when it's pitch black outside, they come on exactly when I need them, and turn off about 10 seconds after I pass them.  They provide plenty of light for me to walk safely, and I no longer have to fumble around with my phone's flashlight mode.  Win!

We've had our new dishwasher now for a couple of months, and if anything our opinion of it has gone up.  Our biggest complaint is that we often accidentally open it while it's running, because we didn't hear it.  The dishes and silverware consistently come out sparkly clean and free of spots, except for those few occasions when we forgot to put soap in, or to refill the rinse agent dispenser.  We've never tried any setting other than the recommended “auto” mode, as it seems to do a perfect job each and every time.  We find the rack arrangements to be quite convenient, and certainly a lot better than any other dishwasher we've ever owned.  The cutlery tray is still our favorite feature – such a silly little thing, but it sure saves a lot of hassle.  The price is steep, for sure – but we'd unhesitatingly recommend this unit to anyone who can afford it.

Paradise ponders, whining old man edition...

Paradise ponders, whining old man edition...  Man, just about everything went wrong yesterday!  A Fedex package I was expecting never showed up.  The tile contractors who were supposed to be here in the afternoon never came.  There was nothing in the mail – not even junk mail.  The dogs escaped my attempt to capture them on the way in from outside, and I spent a half hour cleaning up mud.  Twice I left things in the house that I needed in the barn, and had to make a return trip.  I got almost no sleep.  Sheesh!

I did have an excellent steak dinner, cooked by my lovely bride.  That was definitely the highlight of the day.  We had a relaxing evening reading in front of the fireplace, too...

Hopefully things will go a tad better today...

Stop. Trying. To. Make. Me. Like. Him! Part 21...

Stop. Trying. To. Make. Me. Like. Him!  Part 21...  Yesterday came the (much anticipated) official news that Trump is going to nominate General James “Mad Dog” Mattis as his Secretary of Defense.  I first became aware of Mattis in 2003, during the first Iraq War, when he commanded the Marines invading Kuwait to throw Saddam Hussein's army out.  He was one of the figures whose leadership I most admired.  One thing I learned about him that I really liked: he's an avid student of history, widely and deeply reading both political and military history.  He's famous for being deeply knowledgeable about the history of the Middle East.  His clear-eyed (and long held) view of the dangers posed by Iran as a state actor are extremely refreshing when compared to the spineless posturing of the Obama administration.  Intermittently since 2003 he's been in the news, always taking a position that I already supported, or came to support in part after reading what he had to say.  He's also been a prominent character in all the histories and reporting on Middle East conflicts since 2003.

It never occurred to me that Trump might nominate such a solid, well-qualified candidate – either for Secretary of Defense or any other post.  His doing so nurtures the tiniest little flame of hope in me.  If there was anybody who might successfully guide the Department of Defense through the mess that is the Middle East, this would be the guy.  I'm stunned that Trump made such a great choice.  Stunned in a good way, too...

I'm not alone in this assessment.  One of the commentators I respect, on military affairs in general and the Middle East in particular, is Ralph Peters.  Here's his fawning approval of the Mattis appointment.  If you're not familiar with Peters, let me assure you that this article's style is not his normal style: he's more of the bite-your-head-off critic in most cases, of the kind with lots of those pesky facts at his disposal.  Peters was a vocal critic of Trump during the campaign.  It's notable that his approval of Mattis is, so far as I can discern, completely unqualified.  He must be sharing some of my feelings right about now. :)

If you aren't familiar with Mattis, it's worth your time to get to know him a bit.  He's famous for his pithy quotes, which are easy to find all over the web.  Wikipedia has a decent short-form biography.  If you search his name on Google, you'll find hundreds of articles that mention him.  For a more in-depth treatment, read any of the dozens of histories of conflict in the Middle East since 2000 – he'll be a prominent character in any of them.

The Donald...

The Donald...  Via long-suffering reader Simi L.:

After passing on, George Bush, Barack Obama and Donald Trump are going for a job interview with God.

God asks Bush: “What do you believe in”?

Bush replies: "I believe in a free economy, a strong America, The American nation and so on ..."

God is impressed by Bush and tells him: "Great, come sit in the chair on my right"

God goes to Obama and ask: "What do you believe in”?

Obama replies: “I believe in democracy, helping the poor, world peace, etc. .... ".

God is really impressed by Obama and tells him: 'Well done, come sit in the chair on my left"

Finally God asks Trump : “What do you believe in”?

Trump replied: "I believe you're sitting in my chair”.

I laughed way too hard at this one! :)

Why I like online shopping, part 51,939...

Why I like online shopping, part 51,939...  A few days ago, noting that we were short of printer paper, I stopped in at the Staples in Logan, Utah to pick up two or three reams.  As I browsed the paper aisle, I noted what seemed like a very good deal: five reams of Staples-branded, 20 pound, 96% reflectivity (very bright) bond paper for about $15.  Three bucks a ream is cheap.  It seemed too good to be true, so I checked the signage very carefully to see if I was being fooled somehow.  Nope.  It was clearly marked as five reams for $15.

So I grabbed one of the (heavy!) packages and headed for the cash register, where I had to wait for almost five minutes while the young woman who was the cashier finished her lengthy discussion about a TV show with the customer ahead of me.  Then when she rang up my sale, the charge was for $33.  That's about what such paper sells for on Amazon, shipped to my door, or about $5 a ream at Walmart.  It's certainly not the clearly labeled $15.  WTF? 

Well, my cashier explained (with a big, excited smile on her face) that I was about to have the privilege of getting an $18 rebate, with a super-easy way to submit it online!  Wow!  Now this was absurd on the face of it.  Why would Staples send me a rebate for a product that they're selling under their own brand?  The only possible reason I can think of is that they know many people won't bother sending in the rebate, so they get to misleadingly advertise a low price while actually (on average) getting more.

I was torn, but we needed the paper and I didn't want the hassle of stopping at another store, so I grumbled and paid for the paper.  This morning I pawed through my receipts and found the “Rebate Redemption Form”.  It's printed on a cash register receipt, and measures 25" long.  The poorly-printed text on it is in 8 point type (I measured it!).  It took me five minutes of mind-numbing reading before I found the URL to submit it online.  When I went to that web site, the first thing it did was ask me for a 17 digit “easy redemption ID”.  Easy, my ass!  I searched that form for ten minutes and was about to give up when I noticed that right at the bottom, in six point type that was barely blacker than the white paper, printed inside a bar code, was a 17 digit number.  Could that be it?  It was!  Though I only discovered that after typing it in incorrectly a few times before I got it right. 

I thought that was the end of my torture, but I was wrong.  There was more.  There was a form to be filled in, a web form designed by someone stuck in 1994.  Nearly every field had some rule about entry.  For instance, the phone number had to be entered as just the ten digits of an American phone number including area code.  No hyphens, spaces, or parens.  But this rule was completely hidden – when the form wouldn't accept a phone number, there was no explanation of why.  It just didn't work.  I spent another ten or fifteen minutes filling out this stupid form.  When I finally clicked “submit” and it worked, I was relieved.  Now my torture must be over!

Nope.

Next I got a confirmation screen that informed me that I was “soon” to be the recipient of an $18 Visa card.  What, exactly, did they mean by “soon”?  In some tiny pale blue type that I could just barely find, they told me to expect my card in 9 to 11 weeks.  Isn't that exciting?

When I finally got done with this process, I made a vow to myself to never, ever darken the entrance of a Staples store again.  I will pay a premium, if necessary, to avoid ever giving that company even one penny of my money. 

Amazon is so much easier.  I just ordered some more paper so we don't run out...