Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Power to the people
I filed the solar energy production figure for December today. Not a bad month, all things considered: 177 kilowatt-hours, which is about what we did last December. (By comparison, the average TVA nuclear power plant generates around 766 megawatt-hours per month, so we’ve got a ways to go.)
Despite the high techiness of photovoltaics, the all things that need to be considered are actually rather agricultural in nature: hours of sunlight, snowfall, cloud cover. Take a look at our production against monthly possible hours of daylight (time of sunset minus time of sunrise)
Despite the high techiness of photovoltaics, the all things that need to be considered are actually rather agricultural in nature: hours of sunlight, snowfall, cloud cover. Take a look at our production against monthly possible hours of daylight (time of sunset minus time of sunrise)
The steady rise and fall of the daylight line is the systematic, deterministic part of the deal; that’s the w
ay the earth turns in relation to the sun and not much – we hope – is going to happen to that. The variations in production from month to month are the more or less random variations of weather. January 2005 was a disaster, for example, because the collectors were under snow for most of the month. And unlike the car, I can't get up to the roof to shovel them off.
Inefficient from the point of view of electric production, I suppose, but very satisfying as a reminder that, after all, some things are still subject to Nature's arbitrary control.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
The Weight of Money
As my brother once observed of a very distant relative’s labors to create a genealogy of the Jones family, it may seem that this post “speaks of a man with too much time on his hands.” I don’t think that’s actually the case here: I think it speaks to the power of tiny obsessions.
I ran across an article several years ago that noted that the average UK resident keeps £8.50 in change. (Which raises some interesting methodological questions: do you stop random people on the street and ask them to empty their pockets?) Since I have observed on my travels that the British make good solid money, it occurred to me that these monetary pounds probably add up to a lot pounds avoirdupois.
And there it sat for the longest time until I rediscovered where I had stashed some coin specifications that I looked up in my first burst of enthusiasm.
Using the simple arithmetic average weight per value ratio of the UK coins up to £1 – OK, I probably have been spending too much time on this – that £8.50 works out to a little over a kilogram (2.2 pounds).
It further seems that there is a pleasing irregularity in at least the lower denominations: the weight of a coin correlates badly with its value, probably a holdover from funkier, pre-decimal days. (Although we have the same thing here, with our tiny little dimes and whacking great nickels.) In contrast is the scientifically devised Euro, a creature of the 21st century. . .
I ran across an article several years ago that noted that the average UK resident keeps £8.50 in change. (Which raises some interesting methodological questions: do you stop random people on the street and ask them to empty their pockets?) Since I have observed on my travels that the British make good solid money, it occurred to me that these monetary pounds probably add up to a lot pounds avoirdupois.
And there it sat for the longest time until I rediscovered where I had stashed some coin specifications that I looked up in my first burst of enthusiasm.
Using the simple arithmetic average weight per value ratio of the UK coins up to £1 – OK, I probably have been spending too much time on this – that £8.50 works out to a little over a kilogram (2.2 pounds).
It further seems that there is a pleasing irregularity in at least the lower denominations: the weight of a coin correlates badly with its value, probably a holdover from funkier, pre-decimal days. (Although we have the same thing here, with our tiny little dimes and whacking great nickels.) In contrast is the scientifically devised Euro, a creature of the 21st century. . .
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Two pretty good ones
They may not last too much longer, but if the weather holds I've got two more buckets freezing.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Tokyo subway sign
I just got a beautiful Christmas card from the folks who represent our company in Japan, and tha
t prompted me to write about this sign, which I saw in the Tokyo subway a couple of years ago.
I don’t know Japanese, but I’m guessing that the message is something like “If you drop something off the platform, ask one of the station staff to get it back for you.” Which makes a lot of sense, of course, but it’s the story told in the silhouette that fascinates me.
Here’s one of the most vulnerable and appealing members of society who has lost something of great personal worth, the destruction of which by an oncoming train would be hard to explain to parents and school. The temptation to solve the problem herself must have been almost irresistible. But she did the correct thing, and summoned the competent uniformed adult equipped with precisely the right tool for the job. (And kudos to the silhouette artist for the detailed depiction of the lost items grabber thingy – you could design the tool from that image.)
We would do it very differently in the States, more along the lines of a skull and crossbones with a message reading “It’s 10,000 volts, you knucklehead – don’t even think about jumping down there!”
t prompted me to write about this sign, which I saw in the Tokyo subway a couple of years ago.I don’t know Japanese, but I’m guessing that the message is something like “If you drop something off the platform, ask one of the station staff to get it back for you.” Which makes a lot of sense, of course, but it’s the story told in the silhouette that fascinates me.
Here’s one of the most vulnerable and appealing members of society who has lost something of great personal worth, the destruction of which by an oncoming train would be hard to explain to parents and school. The temptation to solve the problem herself must have been almost irresistible. But she did the correct thing, and summoned the competent uniformed adult equipped with precisely the right tool for the job. (And kudos to the silhouette artist for the detailed depiction of the lost items grabber thingy – you could design the tool from that image.)
We would do it very differently in the States, more along the lines of a skull and crossbones with a message reading “It’s 10,000 volts, you knucklehead – don’t even think about jumping down there!”
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Consumption
There’s a word usage that’s common in my industry that seems wrong to me, and I’m not quite sure why. Increasingly, you will see references to people “consuming” media (movies, DVDs, songs, etc.) E.g.
I understand the utility of the phrase. If we collectivize movies, books, music etc. as “media” it is useful to have a single verb for the experiencing of them all – otherwise you have to write awkward sentences with “watching shows and listening to music and reading the newspaper.”
It is still like fingernails on a blackboard. Part of the problem is that in one of its meanings “consume” is synonymous with “use up.” If I consume a hamburger, it is no longer there. If I “consume” Bartleby the Scrivener or Born to Run, they’re still there. The fact that they exist independently of me and are not changed by my reading or listening to them seems a critical part of their nature.
My objections become less clear when we descend from the realm of high art - or to be more precise, from the realm of stuff I like. Does it bother me to think of people as consuming Survivor, rather than watching it? Not so much.
After a recent three-week journey . . . I was extremely happy to return home. But I was taken aback by what I found waiting for me there—a gigantic stack of magazines, a TiVo bursting with shows, the new Bob Mould CD, and the new Harry Potter book. It was enough to overwhelm even a media junkie like me.
It was a feast for the senses, to be sure. But how would I find the time to consume it all? (Jason Snell, Macworld, 9/1/2005)New ways to consume and use media are all the rage these days. (Thinking by Peter Davidson, 12/16/2004)
I understand the utility of the phrase. If we collectivize movies, books, music etc. as “media” it is useful to have a single verb for the experiencing of them all – otherwise you have to write awkward sentences with “watching shows and listening to music and reading the newspaper.”
It is still like fingernails on a blackboard. Part of the problem is that in one of its meanings “consume” is synonymous with “use up.” If I consume a hamburger, it is no longer there. If I “consume” Bartleby the Scrivener or Born to Run, they’re still there. The fact that they exist independently of me and are not changed by my reading or listening to them seems a critical part of their nature.
My objections become less clear when we descend from the realm of high art - or to be more precise, from the realm of stuff I like. Does it bother me to think of people as consuming Survivor, rather than watching it? Not so much.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
A great Scrabble word
On my plane ride I missed one of the sights I look for: I was napping when we crossed over the boundary between the dry plains and the agricultural Midwest. It's obviously not a sharp demarcation, but there's an area where the naturally formed shapes of the arid lands give way to the squares and circles of irrigated fields. (The latter created by center-pivot sprinklers.)
There is a boundary of sorts, and this is where the Scrabble word comes in: the 20 inch "isohyet." An isohyet is a line drawn to link areas with the same average precipitation, the way that "isobars" show link areas of the sam barometric pressure. It seems that 20 inches has historically been a big deal: more than that and you have a fair chance at agriculture using only precipitation; less and you need irrigation. Interestingly, in the US the 20 inch isohyet falls very near the 100th meridian.
What other sorts of "iso-Xs" could there be with the right databases and plotting software? Isobucks, linking areas with the same average household income? Isokids - areas of same birthrates?
So many harebrained ideas, so little time.
There is a boundary of sorts, and this is where the Scrabble word comes in: the 20 inch "isohyet." An isohyet is a line drawn to link areas with the same average precipitation, the way that "isobars" show link areas of the sam barometric pressure. It seems that 20 inches has historically been a big deal: more than that and you have a fair chance at agriculture using only precipitation; less and you need irrigation. Interestingly, in the US the 20 inch isohyet falls very near the 100th meridian.
What other sorts of "iso-Xs" could there be with the right databases and plotting software? Isobucks, linking areas with the same average household income? Isokids - areas of same birthrates?
So many harebrained ideas, so little time.
Friday, December 09, 2005
En route
I’m writing this on an airplane from San Diego to Boston. (Posted next day, on the ground - I'm not nearly that leading-edgy.) It’s a daytime flight and while I do hate to blow a day sitting on an airplane, I’m too old for red-eyes. I wind up mostly wasting the next day anyway. Also – and this is frankly a major factor – I really like looking at the country.
Right now we’re passing over (I guess) the foothills of the Rockies. There’s snow fairly far down the sides, but very little of what I can see now is above the treeline, so there’s a stubble of trees over the white ground.
I’ve been looking for a way to describe the angles on the slopes of Western mountains. They’re not sharp, but they’re not really rounded either. “Chamfered” keeps coming to mind, but it’s too goofy and technical a term, and anyway it implies a regularity that isn’t there. They don’t look very much like draped cloth – too angular for that. They look sort of like the edges that a block of dense, soft metal (lead or maybe brass) would have if hammered.
Right now we’re passing over (I guess) the foothills of the Rockies. There’s snow fairly far down the sides, but very little of what I can see now is above the treeline, so there’s a stubble of trees over the white ground.
I’ve been looking for a way to describe the angles on the slopes of Western mountains. They’re not sharp, but they’re not really rounded either. “Chamfered” keeps coming to mind, but it’s too goofy and technical a term, and anyway it implies a regularity that isn’t there. They don’t look very much like draped cloth – too angular for that. They look sort of like the edges that a block of dense, soft metal (lead or maybe brass) would have if hammered.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Making the best of a bad situation
I was hoping to be able to report on the first ice candles of the season, but it didn’t quite freeze hard enough over the weekend, and now I’m out of town for a couple of days.
Ice candles? Actually, they’re more properly ice candle holders. A few years ago I found that if I left water outside in a 5 gallon plastic pail in the winter, after a couple of days below freezing it would have frozen in a couple of inches on the top and the sides, leaving a liquid core. Turn it over, dump out the water, and you’ve got a big ice cup that you can set a candle in. Here’s one of last
year’s to give you an idea.
A spirit of full disclosure compels me to admit that this idea is not original to me: my wife read about some gardener in Alaska who wanted something decorative in the non-growing season.
Different temperature conditions will create different types of ice – some of the best ones I’ve had have had lots of cracks that reflect light in great ways (refract? – anybody know the physics?) I tried adding food coloring to the water once for a different effect, but frankly it wasn’t worth the effort.
If it’s windy, the candles tend to blow out, so I’m always on the lookout for robust candles. Interestingly, the ones that seem to burn the best are the ones with the most obnoxious odors – I got a bunch of half-price end of season things from Pier 1 that stank so badly my wife would barely let me bring them in the house, but they burned like crazy.
The neighbors like them, and I have fun doing them, but I have some rules that I mostly obey, in order to keep this on the right side of that fine line between hobby and obsession. I use only rain and snow-melt – no filling the buckets inside. Only freeze outside – I’m not getting a freezer in the cellar to speed the process. Only buy candles on sale.
There’s a Japanese guy who claims that by exposing water to different words, it will show different crystalline patterns. Freeze it inside a container that has “Peace” written on it, and the crystals form a very regular, beautiful pattern. Write “War” on it and the crystals are all jagged and irregular. Maybe, maybe not.
Note to neighbors: if you see me talking to my buckets, it’s time for an intervention.
Ice candles? Actually, they’re more properly ice candle holders. A few years ago I found that if I left water outside in a 5 gallon plastic pail in the winter, after a couple of days below freezing it would have frozen in a couple of inches on the top and the sides, leaving a liquid core. Turn it over, dump out the water, and you’ve got a big ice cup that you can set a candle in. Here’s one of last
year’s to give you an idea.A spirit of full disclosure compels me to admit that this idea is not original to me: my wife read about some gardener in Alaska who wanted something decorative in the non-growing season.
Different temperature conditions will create different types of ice – some of the best ones I’ve had have had lots of cracks that reflect light in great ways (refract? – anybody know the physics?) I tried adding food coloring to the water once for a different effect, but frankly it wasn’t worth the effort.
If it’s windy, the candles tend to blow out, so I’m always on the lookout for robust candles. Interestingly, the ones that seem to burn the best are the ones with the most obnoxious odors – I got a bunch of half-price end of season things from Pier 1 that stank so badly my wife would barely let me bring them in the house, but they burned like crazy.
The neighbors like them, and I have fun doing them, but I have some rules that I mostly obey, in order to keep this on the right side of that fine line between hobby and obsession. I use only rain and snow-melt – no filling the buckets inside. Only freeze outside – I’m not getting a freezer in the cellar to speed the process. Only buy candles on sale.
There’s a Japanese guy who claims that by exposing water to different words, it will show different crystalline patterns. Freeze it inside a container that has “Peace” written on it, and the crystals form a very regular, beautiful pattern. Write “War” on it and the crystals are all jagged and irregular. Maybe, maybe not.
Note to neighbors: if you see me talking to my buckets, it’s time for an intervention.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Winter view
One of my small pleasures is the view to the west outside my window, particularly in the winter, when the sun is far enough to the south that it sets over a horizon - an urban horizon, to be sure, but still a horizon. During the summer, it just disappears behind Joe's house next door, and it's much less satisfying.
The ideal sunset watching time won't be until February or so, when the sunset will move north just enough that it goes down behind the bare tree that's sort of in the middle of this picture. (Behind the telephone pole.) With the right middle blue in the sky, and the sharply drawn black branches, and sometimes a flight of crows heading home, I see few things in my daily life more sublime, and that's not a word I use lightly or often.
Since the sun usually sets in winter before I get home from work, this is mostly a weekend pleasure. I have been known to retire to my couch - from which the picture was taken - with a small glass of bourbon and a book, and watch as the sun goes down with clouds, as they did tonight, catching a little more light. It reminds me that we're all on a big spinning ball, and that as it's getting dark for me, it's still light in Nebraska, there's still plenty of time to clean the gutters in California, and day is just beginning to break in Seoul.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Leftover spaces
Remembering the retrieval of the piece of granite curbstone from the weeds behind the parking lot - actually the end of a very small wood - prompted me to renew an online quest I've had in mind for some time. All over the place, in our urban and suburban areas, are small little bits of semi-wilderness that lie in between built places: unbuildable areas between railroad tracks and roads, bits of wetland between the parking lots of suburban office parks, isolated areas cut off by highway exit ramps, and so on. And surely, I thought, in this great nation of ours, somebody is studying the ecology of places like this.
Bingo! Kevin Anderson, a PhD candidate in geography at the University of Texas and Coordinator of the City of Austin Center for Environmental Research, is the first one I found. Check out what he has to say about the area around sewage treatment ponds in Austin.
Bingo! Kevin Anderson, a PhD candidate in geography at the University of Texas and Coordinator of the City of Austin Center for Environmental Research, is the first one I found. Check out what he has to say about the area around sewage treatment ponds in Austin.
That birds and birdwatchers are drawn to sewage ponds is a recognized phenomenon that appears consistently in the historical records of ornithological journals. Hornsby Bend is no exception and is the most popular birdwatching site in the Austin area. It was bird-loving geographers who introduced me to the site, but it was my own holistic inclinations, coupled with my boyhood experience of marginal nature, that led me to explore the broader ecological and social context of Hornsby Bend. I found a place of surprising ecological diversity. I found a place utilized by its low-income neighbors for fishing and hunting - a kind of American urban commons. I found a long history of usage of Hornsby Bend as an informal field trip site for area teachers. In short, I found a "place" rather than site labeled on the map, "sewage ponds".
