You might have read that recently Einstein's famous relativity equation, E=MC^2, has been called into question because of neutrinos. I don't know if neutrinos were part of Einstein's database, but it's interesting.
I have my own theory of relativity, TTDS = 2TU++. I believe that my equation will outlast Einstein's, or that at the least they will tie.
I developed my equation during thousands of evenings during which I realized that I had accomplished only a fraction of what I'd set out to do that day. The reason is that everything takes longer to do than you think it will, and by quite a lot. You might get a little bit lazy, have distractions, or encounter technical difficulties. 'TTDS' = "Time To Do Something".
For example, yesterday I had the simple task of putting chains on our snowplow (recently converted from a yard tractor). It sounded like a very easy job. I wouldn't have to put them on while lying in snow on the street, but in the warm comfort of our garage. The tires are small, and accessibility wouldn't be a problem at all. But in the end the job took hours. The instructions were not quite correct, and the chains were both a half-link long and a half-link short - too loose if I attached them in one link, and impossible to attach in the next. '2T' = twice the estimated time.
Doubling your estimate of the time to do something is a start, but you'll soon realize that it takes even longer, especially if the job is complicated. That led to an additional modification. 'U++' = unit of time incremented.
It's a formula I used unfailingly, and quite successfully, when estimating software tasks.
For example, if I was given a bug to fix and my boss wanted to know how long it would take, my first estimate might be 1 work day. But then I would apply the formula. 2 x 1 day = 2 days, and day++ = week (the next higher unit). So I'd tell my boss it would take 2 weeks.
And even then I'd be happy to get it done on time.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Odd Days: I Ate Bugs!
You might think that eating bugs would be an unremarkable event for a girl who grew up under the watchful eye of a father who fed her fried bumble bees on crackers at the science fair. But when the bugs are in your cereal, or I should say *my* cereal, it's a different matter. I really don't like surprises.
So anyway, I had poured my cereal, added milk and was shoveling it down when I noticed a funny smell. I stopped eating and retrieved the box. Yep, the paper/plastic (?) lining definitely smelled funny. I decided it was some new fangled type of paper. So I finished my cereal.
A few minutes later I thought, hmmmmm, I'm not sure I want to eat cereal that smells funny. In fact why would people buy cereal with lining that smells funny. Something's not right. I retrieved the box again and looked at the "use by" date. January 2007. Hmmmmm. Maybe the paper wasn't supposed to smell like that. So, cringing a bit at the waste, I tossed the cereal in the trash. My aim was a bit off, though, and some cereal landed on the floor. That's when I saw the bugs.
From the beginning of time, Durf has laughed at my neurotic reluctance to throw away food. He watches me put what he thinks are empty peanut butter jars back in the cupboard. I explain to him that there is at least a half of a bagel's worth of peanut butter -- or jam or butter or whatever -- still in the jar. So when I told Durf I just ate some bugs, what could he do? He laughed.
I always thought those "use by" dates were a scam. Not any more. I guess I'm going to have to quit buying my cereal at Costco!
So anyway, I had poured my cereal, added milk and was shoveling it down when I noticed a funny smell. I stopped eating and retrieved the box. Yep, the paper/plastic (?) lining definitely smelled funny. I decided it was some new fangled type of paper. So I finished my cereal.
A few minutes later I thought, hmmmmm, I'm not sure I want to eat cereal that smells funny. In fact why would people buy cereal with lining that smells funny. Something's not right. I retrieved the box again and looked at the "use by" date. January 2007. Hmmmmm. Maybe the paper wasn't supposed to smell like that. So, cringing a bit at the waste, I tossed the cereal in the trash. My aim was a bit off, though, and some cereal landed on the floor. That's when I saw the bugs.
From the beginning of time, Durf has laughed at my neurotic reluctance to throw away food. He watches me put what he thinks are empty peanut butter jars back in the cupboard. I explain to him that there is at least a half of a bagel's worth of peanut butter -- or jam or butter or whatever -- still in the jar. So when I told Durf I just ate some bugs, what could he do? He laughed.
I always thought those "use by" dates were a scam. Not any more. I guess I'm going to have to quit buying my cereal at Costco!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Odd Days: Freedom to be a lunatic
You can get away with a lot when you live in Colorado. Even the democrats seem to have a libertarian bent. But let's face it, that bent could be construed as a free pass to some bent people.
In the somewhat benign category of bent people in Colorado, you have the guy who rode his horse into a bar in Boulder. In the terminally weird category, you have the frozen dead guy in Nederland for whom authorities carved out an exception to the laws against storing dead bodies. And in the scary crazy category, you have the guy who shot an unarmed burglar in the back to test Colorado's famous Make My Day law.
In the simple "Aw leave her alone" category, there's our crazy newspaper lady. Surely I have mentioned her before. She's the one who found it impossible to deliver our newspaper (at 3 in the morning) without driving through our landscaped stones so that she could get really really close to the mailbox. Soon her car tires had dug a hole so deep that the neighbor kids asked if they could ice skate around our mailbox.
Because I was loathe to greet this woman at the mailbox (at 3 in the morning), I simply filled in the hole with rocks and boulders, whereupon she left me a note asking me to move the boulders because she could no longer get really really close to the mailbox. I demurred, so she moved them herself (at 3 in the morning).
So I called the paper and said I would prefer that our bent newspaper lady not drive in our stones and that if it was too tough to put the paper in the mailbox, she should toss it into the driveway. No problem.
It was then that her boss said, "Oh Geez, I don't know. She really does get kind of riled up when things don't go her way. I'll tell her, but I hope she doesn't do something -- like to your house or something. She probably won't. I'm just saying...."
WHAT?????
"Well, she's a single mom and everything. I really don't want to fire her. But she is kind of...rowdy, I guess you would say."
CRAP!!!!
In the end I stood my ground and left the boulders in place. She in turn continued to put the paper in our box. But she also TP'd our ash tree. Did you get that? She wrapped our ash tree in toilet paper!
Give me a few more years in the wild west and I'll clear out those boulders and put some spikes in that hole.
In the somewhat benign category of bent people in Colorado, you have the guy who rode his horse into a bar in Boulder. In the terminally weird category, you have the frozen dead guy in Nederland for whom authorities carved out an exception to the laws against storing dead bodies. And in the scary crazy category, you have the guy who shot an unarmed burglar in the back to test Colorado's famous Make My Day law.
In the simple "Aw leave her alone" category, there's our crazy newspaper lady. Surely I have mentioned her before. She's the one who found it impossible to deliver our newspaper (at 3 in the morning) without driving through our landscaped stones so that she could get really really close to the mailbox. Soon her car tires had dug a hole so deep that the neighbor kids asked if they could ice skate around our mailbox.
Because I was loathe to greet this woman at the mailbox (at 3 in the morning), I simply filled in the hole with rocks and boulders, whereupon she left me a note asking me to move the boulders because she could no longer get really really close to the mailbox. I demurred, so she moved them herself (at 3 in the morning).
So I called the paper and said I would prefer that our bent newspaper lady not drive in our stones and that if it was too tough to put the paper in the mailbox, she should toss it into the driveway. No problem.
It was then that her boss said, "Oh Geez, I don't know. She really does get kind of riled up when things don't go her way. I'll tell her, but I hope she doesn't do something -- like to your house or something. She probably won't. I'm just saying...."
WHAT?????
"Well, she's a single mom and everything. I really don't want to fire her. But she is kind of...rowdy, I guess you would say."
CRAP!!!!
In the end I stood my ground and left the boulders in place. She in turn continued to put the paper in our box. But she also TP'd our ash tree. Did you get that? She wrapped our ash tree in toilet paper!
Give me a few more years in the wild west and I'll clear out those boulders and put some spikes in that hole.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Crab controversy.
I think I'd better stomp these rumors before they get out of control.
First, according to the National Institute of Health, there are several ways to acquire crabs:
I don't know where I adopted my little friends, but it certainly was not from sexual activity. I had split with my girlfriend well before leaving Syracuse, and I hadn't had any kind of sex (with another person) in an uncomfortably long time. My first stop was in Woodbridge, VA, where my sister, a Marine, lived with her partner and fellow Marine. I stayed there a few weeks and, although I did have some rather strange experiences in Baltimore, I did not have sexual contact with anyone. By the time I arrived at my next stop, Oklahoma City, I had severe itching in the place. While in the bathroom there I saw one of the little buggers jump off, and I knew what was wrong. My host was definitely NOT pleased.
Anyway, the crabs in question appeared in the middle of a long dry spell, sexually speaking. Whether they came from bedding or outer space, I don't suppose I'll ever know. I certainly didn't try on any bathing suits in a store.
I also avoid as much as possible toilet seats in public places. Those of you who have experience with men's rooms know why. Twila tells me that women's rooms are squeaky clean and smell like flowers, which I can't verify, but I can attest that men's rooms do not smell like roses.
First, according to the National Institute of Health, there are several ways to acquire crabs:
Pubic
lice are small, six-legged creatures that infect the pubic hair area
and lay eggs. These lice can also be found in armpit hair and eyebrows.
Causes, incidence, and risk factors
Pubic lice are known as Phthirus pubis. Lice infestation is found mostly in teenagers and usually spreads during sexual activity.
Sometimes,
pubic lice can spread through contact with objects such as toilet
seats, sheets, blankets, or bathing suits at a store. However, this type
of spreading is rare.
I don't know where I adopted my little friends, but it certainly was not from sexual activity. I had split with my girlfriend well before leaving Syracuse, and I hadn't had any kind of sex (with another person) in an uncomfortably long time. My first stop was in Woodbridge, VA, where my sister, a Marine, lived with her partner and fellow Marine. I stayed there a few weeks and, although I did have some rather strange experiences in Baltimore, I did not have sexual contact with anyone. By the time I arrived at my next stop, Oklahoma City, I had severe itching in the place. While in the bathroom there I saw one of the little buggers jump off, and I knew what was wrong. My host was definitely NOT pleased.
Anyway, the crabs in question appeared in the middle of a long dry spell, sexually speaking. Whether they came from bedding or outer space, I don't suppose I'll ever know. I certainly didn't try on any bathing suits in a store.
I also avoid as much as possible toilet seats in public places. Those of you who have experience with men's rooms know why. Twila tells me that women's rooms are squeaky clean and smell like flowers, which I can't verify, but I can attest that men's rooms do not smell like roses.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Odd Days: Ha Ha Ha Ha...
...hahahahhahahah.
I'm laughing at the part of Durf's post where he says his crab infestation was *not* caused by sexual content. Even though that infestation took place before we met (really, I swear!), I have never believed that story. It's not that I believe Durf is untruthful. He is so truthful, it is usually quite painful. Nonetheless, when I was young(er), my father told me people get crabs from having sex with other people. When I argued that a friend of mine got crabs from a toilet seat, he laughed so hard *I* was embarrassed and I wasn't the one with crabs. I'm sure there's a good explanation for Durf's crabs, though. Pretty sure, anyway.
Hey, does this count as a blog?
I'm laughing at the part of Durf's post where he says his crab infestation was *not* caused by sexual content. Even though that infestation took place before we met (really, I swear!), I have never believed that story. It's not that I believe Durf is untruthful. He is so truthful, it is usually quite painful. Nonetheless, when I was young(er), my father told me people get crabs from having sex with other people. When I argued that a friend of mine got crabs from a toilet seat, he laughed so hard *I* was embarrassed and I wasn't the one with crabs. I'm sure there's a good explanation for Durf's crabs, though. Pretty sure, anyway.
Hey, does this count as a blog?
Dental pain.
In 1971 I loaded my mangled MG Midget with as many of my possessions as I could fit and, with $40 in my pocket and a bank trying to repossess my car, left Syracuse, NY, for whatever adventures awaited in San Francisco. It was a lovely trip, enhanced by a rather annoying infestation of crabs (which I did *not* acquire from sexual contact). I was so broke that having lost my gas cap in Albuquerque, I had to stoop to stealing one from a used car lot, an act of which I am not proud. When I arrived in S.F. my best friend, the only person I knew west of the Mississippi, told me to go home.
Somehow I survived, got a job, got rid of the crabs, made the back payments on my car, and moved into an apartment. When I was somewhat back on my feet I made a long overdue dental appointment. The dentist's name was L. Barry Thielke, whom someone had recommended.
The first sign of trouble occurred when, while examining my mouth, the good doctor called his nurse into the room and said, “Look at this!” She gasped.
A short while later I was sitting across from him at his desk to discuss what work I needed. Facing me was some kind of video device, which was off. He pushed it toward me and told me to look at it. I did, but he told me to get even closer. When I did he switched it on and I was looking at the most horrifying mouth I’d ever seen, with black teeth and bloody gums. I think there were maggots, too, but I’m not certain about that. Dr. Thielke asked, “Do you want to look like that?” He told me that I had serious periodontal disease and was on the road to dental ruin. But for $750 he could fix me up like new.
That was a serious sum for me, so I decided to think it over. A short while later I had a girlfriend and went to her dentist, who was much less dramatic and who told me that, aside from a small cavity, my mouth was fine. I continued to go to that dentist for several years and had no serious dental problems. I probably should have filed some kind of complaint against Dr. Thielke, but I didn’t.
When Twila and I arrived in Colorado, we went to a dentist who was recommended by the real estate agent who sold us our house. She was very aggressive in recommending optional procedures and Twila didn’t like her. Also, she was expensive and we didn’t have dental insurance. We opted to switch to a franchise dental group with sort-of insurance, Comfort Dental.
There is something to like about the minimal approach offered by Comfort Dental. They do x-rays whenever you let them, of course, but cleanings are super easy. Instead of a hygienist jabbing and poking for an hour and doing the pocket measurement thing, at CD the hygienist starts by polishing your teeth. Then a dentist comes in and does two or three scrapes. The entire process takes less than 20 minutes. They gave me a couple of crowns and the surfaces are convex rather than concave, which annoys my tongue, but in general I had few complaints and apparent good oral health.
Early this year I saw a Groupon for a full introductory service at the Loveland Dental Group - checkup, x-rays, cleaning and whatever for $29 - a $639 value! I thought it was a good opportunity to see how well CD had been taking care of my teeth.
I went there a couple of weeks ago. Loveland Dental Group is only a few months old, and the group consists of one dentist, one hygeniest, and a secretary. They were all courteous and professional. Their equipment is very modern. I have a couple of cracked fillings - knew that. I was encouraged when the dentist said they only need to be refilled - CD had said one of them needs a crown. But he also told me I have periodontal disease and that I would be in truly deep dental doo-doo if I didn't let them laser my gums. Total cost: $1500. When I left their office I was thinking, "Yep. Should do this."
But then I remembered L. Barry Thielke.
I decided to do some research. Loveland Dental Group is part of Smile Generation, a franchiser. Their reviews are all over the place, from "best dentists ever" to "false diagnosis of periodontal disease".
Now my plan is to go back to CD for my routine cleaning and ask them to check my pocket numbers. It's kind of pitting one possible evil against another. Probably I'll do that this week.
Stay tuned.
Somehow I survived, got a job, got rid of the crabs, made the back payments on my car, and moved into an apartment. When I was somewhat back on my feet I made a long overdue dental appointment. The dentist's name was L. Barry Thielke, whom someone had recommended.
The first sign of trouble occurred when, while examining my mouth, the good doctor called his nurse into the room and said, “Look at this!” She gasped.
A short while later I was sitting across from him at his desk to discuss what work I needed. Facing me was some kind of video device, which was off. He pushed it toward me and told me to look at it. I did, but he told me to get even closer. When I did he switched it on and I was looking at the most horrifying mouth I’d ever seen, with black teeth and bloody gums. I think there were maggots, too, but I’m not certain about that. Dr. Thielke asked, “Do you want to look like that?” He told me that I had serious periodontal disease and was on the road to dental ruin. But for $750 he could fix me up like new.
That was a serious sum for me, so I decided to think it over. A short while later I had a girlfriend and went to her dentist, who was much less dramatic and who told me that, aside from a small cavity, my mouth was fine. I continued to go to that dentist for several years and had no serious dental problems. I probably should have filed some kind of complaint against Dr. Thielke, but I didn’t.
When Twila and I arrived in Colorado, we went to a dentist who was recommended by the real estate agent who sold us our house. She was very aggressive in recommending optional procedures and Twila didn’t like her. Also, she was expensive and we didn’t have dental insurance. We opted to switch to a franchise dental group with sort-of insurance, Comfort Dental.
There is something to like about the minimal approach offered by Comfort Dental. They do x-rays whenever you let them, of course, but cleanings are super easy. Instead of a hygienist jabbing and poking for an hour and doing the pocket measurement thing, at CD the hygienist starts by polishing your teeth. Then a dentist comes in and does two or three scrapes. The entire process takes less than 20 minutes. They gave me a couple of crowns and the surfaces are convex rather than concave, which annoys my tongue, but in general I had few complaints and apparent good oral health.
Early this year I saw a Groupon for a full introductory service at the Loveland Dental Group - checkup, x-rays, cleaning and whatever for $29 - a $639 value! I thought it was a good opportunity to see how well CD had been taking care of my teeth.
I went there a couple of weeks ago. Loveland Dental Group is only a few months old, and the group consists of one dentist, one hygeniest, and a secretary. They were all courteous and professional. Their equipment is very modern. I have a couple of cracked fillings - knew that. I was encouraged when the dentist said they only need to be refilled - CD had said one of them needs a crown. But he also told me I have periodontal disease and that I would be in truly deep dental doo-doo if I didn't let them laser my gums. Total cost: $1500. When I left their office I was thinking, "Yep. Should do this."
But then I remembered L. Barry Thielke.
I decided to do some research. Loveland Dental Group is part of Smile Generation, a franchiser. Their reviews are all over the place, from "best dentists ever" to "false diagnosis of periodontal disease".
Now my plan is to go back to CD for my routine cleaning and ask them to check my pocket numbers. It's kind of pitting one possible evil against another. Probably I'll do that this week.
Stay tuned.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Odd Days: Dracula Part III
Today Durf and I decided to take Dracula out for a real spin, putting him through his paces while we took turns as captain and stoker.
We reviewed all of Lauren's instructions and pushed off with Durf as captain. The first thing he says is, "I think you're wiggling." "No I'm not," I retorted, whereupon Durf veered toward the steepest downhill in our neighborhood, laughing like Vincent Price. All the way down the hill, I'm shouting, "Slow down!" And still he laughs. We survive somehow and reach the main road. But then the pedal wars begin. "You're pedaling too fast!" he shouts. "No I'm not," I retort. Next thing I know my feet go flying off the pedals and I look this:
More demonic laughter.
Ah but soon it was my turn to be captain. We switched and pushed off without incident. "You're wiggling," I said. "No I'm not," he said. "Quit pedaling so hard," I said. "I'm not," he said.
You get the idea. Next time we're going to ride like this:
We reviewed all of Lauren's instructions and pushed off with Durf as captain. The first thing he says is, "I think you're wiggling." "No I'm not," I retorted, whereupon Durf veered toward the steepest downhill in our neighborhood, laughing like Vincent Price. All the way down the hill, I'm shouting, "Slow down!" And still he laughs. We survive somehow and reach the main road. But then the pedal wars begin. "You're pedaling too fast!" he shouts. "No I'm not," I retort. Next thing I know my feet go flying off the pedals and I look this:
More demonic laughter.
Ah but soon it was my turn to be captain. We switched and pushed off without incident. "You're wiggling," I said. "No I'm not," he said. "Quit pedaling so hard," I said. "I'm not," he said.
You get the idea. Next time we're going to ride like this:
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Odd Days: Dracula Part II
We had the great good fortune to have our friend Lauren visiting us for the last few days. Not only is she good company but she just happens to be one of the best bike riders in the U.S. I'll give you her creds another time, but suffice it to say that she wasn't in the house 24 hours before Durf and I pressed her into service. Durf got stoker lessons. 
Lauren was trying to demonstrate worst case scenarios and tilted the bike far to the right to show Durf that in case of catastrophe, he could simply put his foot down. That was hilarious because Durf was simultaneously demonstrating that he could stay on the bike regardless of how far it tipped, and he kept his feet resolutely attached to the pedals. Unfortunately, I didn't get a shot of Durf and the bike in the horizontal position. But soon Lauren and Durf demonstrated the success of Lauren's tutelage.
Then it was my turn. I wanted captain lessons. As you will see in this short video, I started out as stoker so that I could watch Captain Lauren's biomechanics. You will also see/hear that I couldn't stop giving orders even while she was trying to give me instructions!
Lauren was trying to demonstrate worst case scenarios and tilted the bike far to the right to show Durf that in case of catastrophe, he could simply put his foot down. That was hilarious because Durf was simultaneously demonstrating that he could stay on the bike regardless of how far it tipped, and he kept his feet resolutely attached to the pedals. Unfortunately, I didn't get a shot of Durf and the bike in the horizontal position. But soon Lauren and Durf demonstrated the success of Lauren's tutelage.
Then it was my turn. I wanted captain lessons. As you will see in this short video, I started out as stoker so that I could watch Captain Lauren's biomechanics. You will also see/hear that I couldn't stop giving orders even while she was trying to give me instructions!
Monday, September 19, 2011
Spiders.
I took a close-up of one of our spiders to help identify it. I don't think it's a wolf spider, and Tineye couldn't find anything similar (hopefully Carl will jump in at any moment).
When I was doing spider research, I came upon the following:
That really blew my mind. I mean, what are the chances we'll see that spider? Heck, it's probably dead by now.
When I was doing spider research, I came upon the following:
Odd Days: Go Broncos
I like sports. I always have. I'm not sure when it all started, but I remember being recruited to play baseball (using a real baseball) with some boys after school when I was in the fourth grade. Actually, they just needed someone to stand in the outfield. And of course they didn't have a glove for me. But I was a girl and couldn't catch anything anyway. In spite of that, when the first batted ball came flying right at me, they all screamed "Catch it!" Did I cringe and cower? No, I was stupid. I reached out to catch the ball. Ouch! Ah, but then I enjoyed my first (and last) few moments as a sports superstar!
I tried many sports (badminton, volleyball, hockey, soccer), but I finally settled on basketball for a very simple reason. I was only an average athlete but a standout when it came to heart and histrionics. You might be surprised by how well that works on a basketball court.
I went on to play basketball through high school, a bit in college and more after college. Later I coached JV basketball (and softball!) in high school. As a coach, I lost my voice during every game. And that experience set the stage for my becoming an enthusiastic spectator.
Enthusiastic spectating is a requirement for living in Colorado. But on Sundays during football season, Durf pretends he doesn't live in CO. ACK! That leaves it to me to stock up on Broncos paraphernalia, don an orange hoodie and blue knit cap on Sundays and sit before a second TV to cheer on the worst team in football.
We won yesterday!
I tried many sports (badminton, volleyball, hockey, soccer), but I finally settled on basketball for a very simple reason. I was only an average athlete but a standout when it came to heart and histrionics. You might be surprised by how well that works on a basketball court.
I went on to play basketball through high school, a bit in college and more after college. Later I coached JV basketball (and softball!) in high school. As a coach, I lost my voice during every game. And that experience set the stage for my becoming an enthusiastic spectator.
Enthusiastic spectating is a requirement for living in Colorado. But on Sundays during football season, Durf pretends he doesn't live in CO. ACK! That leaves it to me to stock up on Broncos paraphernalia, don an orange hoodie and blue knit cap on Sundays and sit before a second TV to cheer on the worst team in football.
We won yesterday!
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