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.

Tag: Repairs

If it used to work, it can work again

  • Halogen Spotlights: FAIL

    Exposed Halogen Spotlight Bulbs
    Exposed Halogen Spotlight Bulbs

    This pair of halogen outdoor spotlights has been in place for at least a decade; they don’t see much use, so the filaments haven’t burned out in all that time.

    A lens fell off a few days ago, at which point I realized that it was the second lens to fall off; where the first one got to, I cannot say. I suspect they’ve never been turned on in the rain, as a single drop of water on a halogen capsule would shatter it like, uh, glass.

    The right-hand bulb was evidently the first to fail, as it’s full of toasted spider silk, seed husks, and bug carapaces. The reflector aluminization doesn’t like exposure to the Great Outdoors, although it’s in surprisingly good shape for the mistreatment it’s seen.

    I installed a pair of ordinary fused-glass spotlights from Ol’ Gene’s stash that Came With The House; they’ve been in the basement at least as long as those halogens have been on the side of the house. I suppose he put the good spots up there and kept the plain ones in reserve.

    Maybe the “new” spots will last for another decade?

    [Update: frienze reports another bulb failure…

    Submitted on 2014/05/30 at 10:44
    I searched for a more on topic post to stick this, but — alas! — it seems to be closed for commenting.

    Before tossing out the bulb, I decided to take a few pictures.

    Overview
    Overview different angle
    Detail of failure
    Less useful detail turned the other way around

    I half suspect the bulb might not actually be broken in the strict sense of the word, but I decided against actually testing that theory.

    Trying to show the broken socket part is a lot harder. It doesn’t photograph well.
    The broken socket
    What the connector is supposed to look like (in a socket part that arrived broken just like that straight from China… and it’s not like it broke in transit; the protective top simply wasn’t there at all)
    Here you can maybe see it a bit better
    And here it is next to some dried garlic
    ]

  • Garden Fork Repair

    Mary intercepted a complete, albeit defunct, garden fork on its way to the trash and brought it home for repair. It turns out that the handle’s socket had loosened and split around the tine shank, but all the pieces were pretty much in place.

    Looks like a job for JB Weld Epoxy!

    Mix the epoxy with my dedicated mixing screwdriver, butter up the shank, blob the excess epoxy into the socket, shove the parts together, clean off the outside globs, and let it cure overnight.

    The trick is to get enough epoxy in the socket to fill the voids and mechanically lock the shank in place. This probably won’t work for forks used by burly guys who heave rocks over the horizon, but for our simple needs it’ll do just fine.

    Every now and again it’s OK to do an easy repair without a trace of CNC…

  • Laser Pointer Annoyances

    Laser pointer battery contact
    Laser pointer battery contact

    Maybe it’s just me, but all of the laser pointers I’ve bought, even the relatively spendy ones, have crappy switches and unstable battery contacts.

    For example, this is the business end of a $12 (!) pen-style pointer. The battery contact was off-center and poorly secured; I pried the white plastic retainer out, bashed the spring into submission, and replaced the retainer with a length of heat-shrink tubing. It wasn’t pretty.

    This pointer has an actual mechanical switch module inside, with a clicky mechanism actuated by the external button. Cheaper pointers seem to rely on bare PCB contacts bridged by the button’s base. Ugh.

    Laser pointer battery orientation: positive DOWN
    Laser pointer battery orientation: positive DOWN

    Memo to Self: The AAA cells fit into the housing with the positive terminal away from the laser head. The white plastic plug has a molded cross that could be mistaken for a + symbol, but it’s not.

  • Zero-dollar Power Screwdriver Repair

    I’m in the midst of cleaning up the shop after a winter of avoiding the too-cold basement. The best way I’ve found to pull this off is to pick up each object, do whatever’s needed to put it away, and move to the next object. Trying to be clever leads to paralysis, so I devote a few days to fixing up gadgets and putting tools back in their places. After a while, it gets to be rather soothing.

    Broken wire in power screwdriver
    Broken wire in power screwdriver

    Some months ago I snagged a power screwdriver from a discard pile; while it didn’t work, un-bending the battery pack connector solved that. It runs from a quartet of AA cells, which means I can use alkalines and it’ll always be ready to go. It’s not a high-torque unit, so I’m using it for case screws and similar easy tasks.

    But it quickly became intermittent and finally would turn only clockwise. Onto the to-do heap it went…

    Power screwdrivers consist of a battery, a motor with a planetary gear reduction transmission, and a cross-wired DPDT switch in between. Not much can go wrong and, if it turns at all, most likely the problem has something to do with the switch or wiring.

    Opened it up, pulled out the motor, and, lo and behold, one of the wires has broken off the switch. As nearly as I can tell, pushing the switch that-a-way forced the solder tab down on the wire and made the connection, pushing it the other way pulled the tab off the wire.

    While I had the hood up, I replaced the wires with slightly thicker and longer ones. Soldered everything back together, mushed the grease blobs back into the planetary gearing, and it works like a champ…

    Now, fairly obviously, there’s absolutely no economic sense to this sort of thing, given that the driver probably cost under ten bucks, but I just can’t stand to see a perfectly good gadget wind up in the trash.

    I’d love to do this sort of thing for a living, if only I could figure out how to avoid going broke while doing so. Maybe I can get me some of that my economic stimulus money that’s sloshing around these days?

  • Sunglasses Repair: New Hinge Holes

    Milling to remaining hinge plate
    Milling to remaining hinge plate

    With the epoxy cured overnight, I fired up the Sherline CNC mill to poke screw holes in the brass hinge splice.

    The first step was to mill a flat-bottomed hole in the lower surface of the thin brass to expose the threaded hole in the remaining hinge plate. I crunched the end of the frame in a machinist’s clamp, then grabbed that in the Sherline milling machine vise; the frame is upside-down in the picture.

    The brass stock was 0.015 inches, so I milled downward 0.020 inches to get through the epoxy. I’d love to say that worked perfectly, but I had to fiddle around a bit and eventually put a slight divot in the hinge plate.

    That alignment was by pure eyeballometric guesstimation, but poking a small epoxy disk out of the threaded hole revealed that the 2 mm milled hole was centered on the hinge hole. Pretty close. Kinda-sorta. Good enough for my purposes, anyway.

    Laser alignment to hinge hole
    Laser alignment to hinge hole

    I aligned the spindle to the actual hinge hole with my laser aligner, a process that turned out to be surprisingly easy: note where the red dot vanishes on each side of the hole, split the difference, repeat for the Y axis, and you’re done.

    Through-drilling top hole
    Through-drilling top hole

    With the spindle centered, I ran a #60 drill through the threaded hole (which it just barely cleared) and poked a hole in the thicker top plate (which is on the bottom here, remember). The packing under the hinge is a cut-up credit card; a handy source of thin sheets of stiff plastic.

    Then I flipped the frame over and drilled out the top hole with a #54 drill to clear the threads on a 00-90 machine screw. I’d like to say I did a precision alignment job, but what I actually did was chuck that little bitty drill up in my big drill press, run it on the slowest spindle speed (maybe 400 rpm), brace my arms on the table, and feed the frame onto the drill by hand. Works perfectly… if only because I’m enlarging the hole by, what, 7 thou on each side.

    Finished hinge - top view
    Finished hinge – top view

    A bit of filing cleaned up the drill chaff inside the hinge so I could mount the earpiece on the frame and screw it in place. I don’t have a 00-90 tap and wouldn’t use it in a titanium frame anyway, so you can tell this isn’t going to have a happy outcome, but, by and large, the undoubtedly metric threads in the frame did a pretty good job of re-forming the 00-90 brass threads. Ugly, but serviceable.

    Some Dremel-tool work with an itsy grinding wheel on the flexy shaft eroded the back side of the U-shaped brass and new hinge plate to clear the earpiece; I think it only took half a dozen trial fittings & tiny grindings before the earpiece folded properly.

    A dab of low-strength purple Loctite in the threads and I’d say that screw is in there for life!

    Finished hinge - side view
    Finished hinge – side view
    Finished hinge - bottom view
    Finished hinge – bottom view

    Then I cleaned it up with a miniature wire wheel and, hey, it’s got a certain geeky charm, doesn’t it?

    I have my doubts about how well the epoxy affixes itself to the brass, so I suspect I’ll be drilling a hole or two to mechanically lock it in place with some urethane adhesive when it falls off.

    If the remaining hinge plate fractures, however, then the frame is toast.

    Until I get around to having the optical shop dye up another pair, these should suffice for my simple needs.

    Trivia:

    The plastic film on the lenses comes from a big roll of the stuff they use to protect CRT monitors in shipping. Works great for shop projects and, back in the day, I used it when I was hauling monitors around. I think it’d suck the front right off an LCD panel, so I haven’t used much of it lately.

    If you’re following the pictures, you’ll notice that the dsc* numbering series resets right in the middle of the story. That’s where my Sony camera gagged while writing an image and explains why I don’t have pix of the first drilling steps.

    The color balance is weird on the milling machine pix because the shop lights are much cooler than the warm compact fluorescent bulb hovering over the table.

  • Sunglasses Repair: Half a Hinge Is Better Than None

    Broken hinge and brass shim stock repair parts
    Broken hinge and brass shim stock repair parts

    Some years ago I managed to talk one of the local optical shops into stripping the anti-reflective coating off my second-oldest pair of glasses, dunking the lenses in the gray dye pot, then re-coating them. I got a fine set of variable-bifocal sunglasses for 75 bucks; that’s why it took some persuasion. The near vision lens is a bit under my current prescription, but it’s good enough for driving and biking.

    All good things must come to an end: the right-side hinge broke. The bad news is that it’s a titanium frame (can’t be brazed, at least by me) and the whole affair is old enough that it’s not worth sinking a bunch of money into a new frame. This year calls for new glasses anyway, so with any luck they’ll be able to do it again.

    The good news: I can fix this thing with JB Weld epoxy and a few brass bits. So off to the Basement Laboratory, Machine Shop Division, we go…

    Resistance soldering brass parts
    Resistance soldering brass parts

    Fortunately, the unthreaded top hinge plate broke off, leaving the threaded bottom plate intact. The plan: replace the plate with a suitable bit of brass shim stock, solder it to a U-shaped sheet of brass, epoxy the thing to the temple, drill a hole through the new plate, and run a screw into the threaded plate.

    The top picture shows the broken hinge and the tediously cut-and-filed brass parts. The tab on the end of the flat plate fits around the remaining part of the hinge, the upper part is flush against the frame, and most of the plate will be trimmed off.

    Rough-filed hinge splice
    Rough-filed hinge splice

    After demonstrating that my smallest torch can satisfactorily melt tiny bits of brass shim stock, I (tediously) re-cut and re-fit another set of parts, then deployed the resistance soldering gadget I built a while back (and wrote up for Circuit Cellar, Feb / Apr / Jun 2008) and silver-soldered the bits together. I must describe that thing here one of these days; it’s built around a rewired kilowatt-class microwave oven transformer with triac pulse-duty-cycle switching to control the heat.

    A bit of diagonal cutter and file work produced a U-shaped channel that exactly fit over the remaining hinge. The rounded end (in the rear) is too wide, but that’ll get trimmed to fit when it’s in place.

    Aligning earpiece and frame for epoxy
    Aligning earpiece and frame for epoxy

    Wisely is it written that you cannot have too many clamps, which is what I used to build a fixture and align the earpiece with the lens frame to epoxy the hinge splice in place. As is always the case, nothing is square, plumb, true, or parallel. Fortunately, the glasses weigh basically zilch, so after I get the pieces aligned, they won’t shift out of place.

    That done, I worked some JB Weld epoxy into the hinge stub’s crevices, then slipped the splice into place. A small blue clamp applied a bit of pressure to make the friction fit marginally more secure…

    Final clamping overview
    Final clamping overview

    The trick here is to leave the plastic lid with the rest of the mixed epoxy sit on the workbench; if the epoxy in the lid isn’t cured, then there’s no point in moving the glasses and breaking the bond.

    Clamping with epoxy applied
    Clamping with epoxy applied

    Then I let the epoxy cure overnight… when the story continues.

  • Recovering JPG Images From Damaged Flash Memory

    My DSC-F717 just crashed as I took a picture in the Basement Laboratory; it stalled while writing a picture to the memory stick. This camera is known to have problems with its ribbon cables and I’ve fixed it a few times before, but right now I have other things to do. Who knows? Maybe it’s a different problem altogether.

    Thus, the pertinent question is how to grab the image files from the Memory Stick, even with a damaged filesystem. This trick will work with any memory device, so it’s not just a Memory Stick thing.

    The camera crashed with the Memory Stick activity LED stuck on. Turning the camera off didn’t work: it jammed in the power-down sequence. So I poked the Reset button, which snapped the camera back to 1 January 2002, just after midnight. Alas, it now couldn’t read the Memory Stick, which meant either the filesystem is pooched or the camera’s card socket has gone bad again.

    Mmm, do you know where your camera’s Reset button is? It might not even have one, in which case you just yank the battery. If you can yank the battery, that is.

    Anyhow…

    With the camera turned off: extract the memory card, poke it into a suitable USB card reader, and poke that into your PC (running Linux, of course).

    If the filesystem isn’t too badly damaged, you’ll probably get a popup asking what to do with the new drive (the memory card). Dismiss that, as you don’t want anything writing to the memory without your explicit permission, which you won’t give.

    Figure out which device corresponds to the card and which partition to use:

    dmesg | tail
    [29846.600524] sd 5:0:0:2: [sdd] 1947648 512-byte hardware sectors (997 MB)
    [29846.606022] sd 5:0:0:2: [sdd] Write Protect is off
    [29846.606030] sd 5:0:0:2: [sdd] Mode Sense: 23 00 00 00
    [29846.606033] sd 5:0:0:2: [sdd] Assuming drive cache: write through
    [29846.608748]  sdd: sdd1
    

    In this case, the Memory Stick was intact enough to have a valid partition table, so it could be successfully mounted. However, you don’t want any attempt to write the data, just to keep a bad situation from getting worse. You do that by mounting the device read-only:

    sudo mount -o ro /dev/sdd1 /mnt/part

    You’ll need a suitable mount point; I created /mnt/part early on to hold manually mounted disk partitions.

    The FAT filesystem seemed to point to valid files, but attempting to display them didn’t work. So unmount the device before proceding:

    sudo umount /dev/sdd1

    Switch to /tmp or anywhere you have enough elbow room for a few files the size of the memory card.

    Run dd to make a bit-for-bit copy of the entire drive:

    sudo dd if=/dev/sdd of=memstick.bin bs=1M

    The bs=1M should dramatically speed up the transfer; the default is, IIRC, 512 bytes.

    After this, everything you do uses memstick.bin, not the memory card itself. If you’re paranoid like me, you’ll make a copy of the file before you do anything hazardous. You could even make two copies directly from the memory card and compare them, which might be instructive.

    To find your precious JPG images among the rubble, look for their magic Exif headers:

    strings -t x memstick.bin | grep Exif
      68006 Exif
     258006 Exif
     680006 Exif
     848006 Exif
     a18006 Exif
     bf0006 Exif
     e00006 Exif
     fe8006 Exif
    11e8006 Exif
    1420006 Exif
    ... snippage ...
    

    Because the strings search ignores the (presumably broken) FAT directory structure, you’ll find all the image files on the drive, whether or not they’ve been deleted, partially overwritten, or whatever. This is great for forensics and terrible if you’ve got something to hide. You have been warned.

    The -t x parameter returns the string’s starting offset in hex, which you need to find the actual starting offset of the file: it’s 6 bytes lower! Your mileage may vary, so be prepared to fiddle around a bit.

    You could write a bunch of code to parse the JPG header and extract exactly the number of bytes required, but this is no time for subtle gestures. I just yank out whatever the largest possible image file could be, because image-processing programs only process the valid stuff anyway. So, knowing that this camera produces images in the 2.4 MB range, this extracts the first image:

    dd if=memstick.bin of=image.jpg bs=$((16#1000)) count=1K skip=$((16#68))
    

    The $(( … )) notation evaluates the numeric expression within and the 16#… notation expresses a hexadecimal value.

    Soooo, bs=$((16#1000)) says that the blocksize is 4096 bytes, which you can deduce from the fact that all the Exif headers start 6 bytes from a multiple of 0x1000. Again, your camera may do things differently, but the general notion should get you started.

    If you’re fussy, you’ll note that the headers are actually on multiples of 0x8000 bytes, but using 0x1000 means you can read the high-order digits right off the strings dump. Why make things more complicated than necessary?

    Given a 4K blocksize, count=1K extracts a 4MB chunk: 1024 blocks of 4096 bytes each. That’s larger than the largest possible image file from this camera; adjust it to suit whatever you expect to find. Don’t be stingy, OK?

    The skip=$((16#68)) says to begin extracting data 0x68 blocks into memstick.bin. You read that value directly from the strings output, which is easy enough.

    You could write a tidy Bash script to eat the strings values and spit out the corresponding file chunks. I had few enough images this time to just do it manually, which beats having to debug some code…

    Good luck!