The Smell of Molten Projects in the Morning
Ed Nisley's Blog: Shop notes, electronics, firmware, machinery, 3D printing, laser cuttery, and curiosities. Contents: 100% human thinking, 0% AI slop.
Who’d’a thunk it?
In the admittedly unlikely event you happen to be near the left-center part of Long Island this evening, drop in on my DIY 3D Printing & the Makerbot Thing-O-Matic presentation for the Long Island Linux Users Group meeting and pick up a tchotchke!
Many thanks to LILUG for ruthlessly eliminating all my objections to leaving the Basement Laboratory…
Our neighbor’s back yard features an unkempt apple tree about 3 feet from the fence that must be 40 feet high by now. It grows Macintosh-style fruit and drops half of them into our yard. Most land in the garden, some land in the yard, a few bounce off his plastic storage shed with resounding bonks, and every critter out there loves them. Mary makes applesauce from the best of the harvest and tosses the rest far away to keep the wasps out of her veggies.
The chipmunks and groundhogs have a belly-busting good time:
The deer, of course, eat ’em like candy, another reason for clearing the garden.
A long time ago, in a universe far away, I wrote a book that (barely) catapulted me into the ranks of the thousandaires. Time passes, companies get sold / fail / merge / get bought, and eventually the final owners decided to remainder the book; the last royalty check I recall was for $2.88.
Anyhow, now that it’s discontinued and just as dead as the ISA bus, I own the copyright again and can do this:
They’re both ZIP files, disguised as ODT files so WordPress will handle them. Just rename them to get rid of the ODT extension, unzip, and you’re good to go. Note, however, that I do retain the copyright, so if you (intend to) make money off them, be sure to tell me how that works for you.
The big ZIP has the original pages laid out for printing, crop marks and all, so this is not as wonderful a deal as it might first appear. The little ZIP has the files from the diskette, which was unreadable right from the start.
Words cannot begin to describe how ugly that front cover really is, but Steve’s encomium still makes me smile.
The text and layout is firmly locked inside Adobe Framemaker files, where it may sleep soundly forever. The only way I can imagine to get it back into editable form would be to install Windows 98 in a VM, install Framemaker, load up the original files, and export them into some non-proprietary format. Yeah, like that would work, even if I had the motivation.
If you prefer a dead-tree version, they’re dirt cheap from the usual used-book sources. Search for ISBN 1-57398-017-X (yes, X) and you’ll get pretty close.
Or, seeing as how I just touched the carton of books I’ve been toting all these years, send me $25 (I’m easy to find; if all else fails, look up my amateur callsign in the FCC database) and get an autographed copy direct from the source. Who knows? It might be worth something some day…
The back cover has some useful info:
I fumble-fingered a plate, it fell between my tummy and the counter, and hit the floor edge-on. There’s a lot of energy stored in that stretched-glass ceramic layer! [Update: The glass is under compression.]
The fragments tend to be slivers rather than chunks, all with better-than-razor-sharp edges:
A bit more detail on Corelle in that post…
Back when I was growing up, I knew maple seeds came in pairs and finding a triple-seed cluster was a wonderful stroke of good fortune. Our young lady grew up knowing that same thing, of course.
Turns out the maple tree near the end of the driveway produces triple-wing seed clusters on a regular basis; we find several each year.
It hasn’t reduced the magic of maple spinners, but we no longer line them up along the fireplace…
This dragonfly decided that the tip of the 2 m / 70 cm antenna on Mary’s bike was the best place around to survey the area; it periodically zipped off to snag a meal, then returned to stand watch again.
Those wraparound compound eyes don’t miss much!
A few weeks ago, a much larger dragonfly bounced off my helmet and snagged itself in the delay line coil near the middle of the antenna: the dragonfly’s head slid 1/4 turn around the coil and latched firmly in place. Amid much buzzing of wings and thrashing of legs, I managed to unscrew the poor critter, whereupon it flew off undamaged.
I was really, really tempted to pocket a key, just in case it might come in handy elsewhere… but I’d have to stand on the toilet and that’s just gross.
Back in the day, I was third-chair lockpick in my college dorm and those piddly little locks weren’t all that difficult even then.
The Smell of Molten Projects in the Morning 