Well, I voted, and my side lost.
They say that people are unhappy with inflation, and I had a bout of sticker shock myself the other day when I winter-proofed my outdoor water lines by filling them with cheap vodka. Last year, the cheapest vodka money could buy was $7.99. This year, the best I could do was $9.99. I can see where that might add right up over the course of a year. Especially next year.
I needed a carbon fiber housing for the ‘waist’ on my robot.
I knew, sorta, what I needed, and I noodled it over in my mind for a month.
I doodled my drawings, crossed stuff out, made a 3-D model, and did a good job, I thought, of thinking it through.
I taped it off, wrapped it, capped it, snugged it up, glued it, twisted it tight, and watched the glue dry for awhile. So far, so good. I cleaned up.
I was done, washing my hands with an acetone rag, and admiring my work, and I realized that it … it … wasn’t going to work. (You know that sudden gasp of realization you get when something like that happens? That’s what happened.) Why it wasn’t going to work is not important, but How, I still wonder, could I have missed that?
Meanwhile, the glue was still wet, and I gotta decide:
I can either:
Let the glue dry. Leave it built like I designed it, and assume I’m having a brain fart, because I know for sure that I knew what I was doing when I did it. It’s late, and I’m tired, and I must be missing something simple.
Or, I can:
Cut today’s work to shreds rrrright now, before the glue dries, clean up the parts, and then re-wrap it another day.
V1 vs V2
I’ve been doing a lot of machining lately, because the light at the end of the tunnel is getting so close. One of the very last metal parts I had to make was the “hip motor-to-worm shaft.” It came out fine, and I labelled the Motor end and the Worm end with a sharpie before I set it aside.
Lotta good That did me.
The saddle
Step 472:
Connect cylinder A to cage B
Last month, you’ll recall, I picked just one apple tree, and I froze the fruit. I ended up with two full freezers and a few skeptical looks.
Meanwhile, Thanksgiving is coming right up, and – this just in – Mary would like some freezer space back.
“Yes, dear,” I said. After all, she’s right.
Huh.
I thought it through. If I gotta give up my freezer space, then I’m gonna have to either juice my hundred pounds of frozen apples, or throw them out. The clock is ticking. What to do?
Hmm. to juice them, I’d have to thaw out the apples, set up the press, wash the bottles, set up the kegs, press the juice, and then clean up.
In the basement.
This is a no brainer.
This year’s innovation: Storing under CO2 in a keg.
Since freezer space was at a premium, we chipped our way to the bottom of the big freezer, and dug out and ditched the oldest, coldest foods. And two days before Thanksgiving, over my dead body, we threw out 8 packages of home-grown green beans. “They’re going to be mushy,” she said.
We were going to have a quiet Thanksgiving. Five of us. Maybe six.
Then, suddenly, it was up to 18. With overnighters, kids, and multiple planned-in-advance meals. What just happened? Anyway,
My contribution.
Multiple simultaneous conversations. Perfect for the hard of hearing.
All the alpha adults gather to help Adam carve the turkey. No pressure!
Steve joined the Clean Plate Club like it was nothin’