Today marks the beginning of TV Turnoff Week. Taking part isn’t so difficult for me, as I might be averaging about 3-5 hours a week these days. Trying to lump in my internet use may be a bit more difficult, though I’ll keep with the current trend of relatively light posting here (except, maybe, for the daily haiku).
My brother-in-law sent me this YouTube link the other day. Click here for a video of the Lego Trebuchet.
When I was young, we had a train set. It was an HO set with an oval track and some buildings and landscape fixtures molded to a large board that traditionally went under the tree every Christmas.
I used to love playing with those trains, even though my father cringed every time I got near the controls. He would often direct me to be more cautious with the speed of the train, especially around the bends, but try as he might, I had my own ideas about speed (as well as a budding fascination with derailment).
Every once in while, usually between Christmases, he’d take me with him to the hobby store to buy new cars, accessories, or parts for dysfunctional locomotives that I’d “help” him repair when we got back home. I always enjoyed the repair sessions, though I’m afraid I wasn’t much help most of the time. Still, I recall the experience fondly.
I don’t know what’s become of the old set. I know the old board was in need of replacement years ago, and I have no clue as the whereabouts of the power supply or the trains themselves. (I should ask my father sometime, I suppose.)
I was reminded of the train set this past Christmas when the son of a friend of mine was given a set by his grandfather. The thought of a grandfather setting up a train set with his grandson makes me smile.
I had thoughts of going with my friend to see a local model train display yesterday. I was expecting a call sometime in the late morning or early afternoon regarding when we’d go. The call never came – or should I say the phone never rang.
At some point between Friday night and Saturday morning I apparently turned off the ringer, so I didn’t realize when the call came on early Saturday afternoon. While I was putting around waiting for a phone call, my friend was probably wondering why I was neither answering the phone nor calling back.
If you’re reading this, I’m sorry for the mix-up. I really wanted to go see the trains.
First, an article on how to be an expert on anything, by the only man who would know. (via Cziltang)
Second, the “On Notice Board” generator. (via Matt)
I won’t have time to get to carried away today, but tomorrow may be a different story.
(Trivial Update: My “On Notice Board” lingers below the break.) [Read more →]
I was on a trip up to the Lehigh River Gorge to go biking last weekend.
Being amateurs in the area, we elected to use the services of Pocono Mountain Biking, which offers packages allowing riders to ride north to south in 25, 15 and 9 mile increments along the Lehigh River. The packages include shuttle service to and from the starting and ending points, respectively, as well as bike rental if needed.
We took the 15 mile ride, which we finished in a somewhat leisurely two hours and fifteen minutes (not counting an additional 30-40 minutes of total shuttle time). It was a nice ride. And our timing worked out fairly well, too, as it had been raining for much of the car ride up, but the rain seemed to stop almost as soon as we got there.
The part of it that I found most fascinating were the various points along the trail where water was flowing down the sides of the valley wall to our right (the river was to our left). The water flow at these points ranged from a trickle down the rocks to the level of a small waterfall. Some of them were visually obscured by foliage, though their cooling effect could be felt as we passed them. Buttermilk Falls, pictured above, was less than a quarter mile north of the 15 mile point of the riverside path. We took the short ride up there before heading south; it made for a good lunch spot.
A few of the photos I took along the way can be found on Flickr (though, regretably, my camera was not sufficiently powered to take as many as I would have liked). A map of the entire 25-mile stretch can be found here.
