Monkeyshines

Day 161: I have had a busy morning. Thanks to an internet friend who sent me a pair of "Red Heel" socks, I now have a sock monkey of my very own. I even knit him a little hat just in case it started snowing again while he was posing for his portrait. I can see a few places where I want to improve on the traditional construction. The most major change would be in the length of the white portion of the arms. They seem too long to me, and that's even with shortening them a bit for this version. I would also cut down the toe which forms the dome of his head. It might be fine with a size Large sock, but with the Medium, there's too much crown. The hat conceals it, though.

Age 10 And Up

Day 36: I was much younger than 10 when my mother helped me plant my first garden of Magic Rocks, and I still remember the fascination I felt as I watched them grow right before my very eyes. This simple science project was revisited on several more occasions while I still lived at home, but when I reached my teens and my living situation changed, I found myself subject to the mind-set which said, "Science isn't for girls." I pursued my interests covertly, smuggling copies of Scientific American into my personal library, concealed in school notebooks and only read when I knew no one was around. At school, biology was a requirement, and I participated in the experiments with glee. Chemistry and physics were electives, and although I was not allowed to enroll, I seized upon science whenever it availed itself to me, regardless of its form. At recess when my classmates were chatting, the teachers could find me off to the far side of the field, picking garnets out of schist, examining bryophytes with my nose to the spore capsules to make up for the lack of a hand lens, or looking for insect larvae in a small pond at the bus stop. For all of their encouragement of my curiosity, the dreaded phrase "Science isn't for girls" even fell from their lips. I never got the chemistry set I coveted, but I never forgot the Magic Rocks of my early years.

Some time after I reached adulthood, I stumbled across Magic Rocks on a store shelf, identical to those of my youth. I think I bought three or four packages, enough that if they became unavailable, I'd have some to play with several years hence. I planted one batch, and was rather surprised by the fragility of the crystals. Thinking back, I suppose my mother had done the handling of the chemicals, and I'd only watched the process. After making a mess of one grouping, I was more careful with my second lot, but even though the planting was a success, I placed the crystals in a bright window (the better to see the colour) and they soon faded to white.

In the intervening years between then and now, I've grown a number of "Depression Plants" (shown in my October 30 post), and the process always reminded me of Magic Rocks. A couple of weeks ago, I was looking for kid-level science projects on Amazon, and Magic Rocks popped up on the screen! I couldn't resist.

The Fourth Doctor

Day 159: For all of the fact that I deplore both commercialism and plastics, occasionally some "must-have" object crosses my radar and my resolve collapses. As my readers know, I am a huge fan of Star Trek (particularly the Next Generation) and during my less anti-plastic years purchased as many action figures as my budget would permit. For the most part, they now live in a large computer-paper box and only come out for special occasions like photo shoots. That said, I am also a Doctor Who fan and have watched almost every episode of the original series, and naturally have found my favourite Doctors. I bought a Tardis and a Dalek early on and added Doctor #10 to bring substance to the scenario playing out on top of my dresser, but was recently tempted to add Doctor #4 in person of Tom Baker who truly defined the role for all time. What surprised me when I purchased these four toys was the quality when compared to the tacky figures marketed with the Star Trek logo. They resemble the characters with much greater accuracy and are proportionally correct, without the outsized hands designed to hold cumbersome and poorly executed tools seen in the Trek action figures. The joints are designed better and are less obvious as well. If mass-marketing can be done this well, why do things on American shelves have to be so sleazy? The answer, I think, is that these are made to be cherished and handed down to the next generation of Who fans, not discarded upon inevitable breakage. We should take a hint and cultivate a culture which embraces durability rather than planned obsolence. Then perhaps plastics wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Why It Goes

Day 143: I hadn't really thought to make a series of this, but since yesterday was "Who," today I bring you "Why," as in "Why do the vanes in a radiometer spin when it is exposed to light?"

The widespread notion that the rotor is impelled as photons strike the white sides and are absorbed by the black is not scientifically accurate. Were it so, the spin would always be in one direction: away from the black faces. Stick a radiometer in a sunny window until the rotor is spinning rapidly and then move it to a cooler bright location; you will soon prove that this is not the case, although some pressure is definitely supplied by radiation. In actuality, the amount of vacuum within the radiometer is critical, and it is the transfer of heat in this partial vacuum which supplies the action. As the vanes heat, the radiometer spins in one direction, and as it cools, the spin reverses. Try it! These cool science toys are readily available on the internet and at the very least, will make your guests ask why you have a non-lighting lightbulb in your window.

Who's Your Doctor?

Day 142: Who's your Doctor? I am nearing the end of all Doctor Who DVDs (current and historic) with the exception of a handful featuring Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy, only available through Amazon. I think I am qualified to say that "my" Doctors are David Tennant, Tom Baker (although it pains me to admit it), Peter Capaldi, Jon Pertwee and William Hartnell, in that order. Oh, and let's don't leave out the War Doctor, John Hurt, who passed away earlier this year. I was not particularly taken with Patrick Troughton's interpretation, nor am I impressed with Colin Baker so far. The remaining Doctors fall somewhere in between, spins which I like in some ways but not in others. Yes, David Tennant would be "my" Doctor, although it can't be denied that Tom Baker defined the role, but Baker's off-screen personality is off-putting, if what can be ascertained from commentaries and interviews is representative.

Of the companions, it is Donna Noble who rises to the top of the list. Her story's bittersweet ending was exceptional in its conception. Otherwise, I prefer the Doctor to remain aloof, and therefore Rose Tyler's involvement with him seemed like a toss-off to capture female viewers. Villains? Why, the Daleks, of course, and the Master, who has undergone almost as many regenerations as the Doctor himself. The introduction of Missy was brilliant, and is played to mad perfection by Michelle Gomez.

Unfortunately, most of the earliest episodes of Doctor Who would be accessible only if we could catch a ride in the TARDIS. They were made in the days before tape, and even those which were recorded later were thrown out by BBC, bag and baggage, rather than being archived. No one knew that Doctor Who would become a world-wide phenomenon, and arguably one of the best science-fiction series ever made.

Lego My Doctor!

Day 74: I am not one to endorse products ordinarily, but I cannot recall ever having been so favourably impressed with the quality of an item as I am with Legos. I bought the "Doctor Who" set after seeing it at at friend's (still in the box), although I did so with some reservation because it looked rather complicated for someone who had no prior experience with the brand. I grew up with wooden TinkerToys and in those days, Legos were not much more than bricks with bumps. Modern Legos are infinitely more complex, with tiny pieces which take the craft into a realm not too unlike model ship building. I'd fiddled with a handful of pieces from the huge bins maintained by Kevin's two sons, but quickly became frustrated when I couldn't put them together to make anything recognizable. I didn't realize you needed a blueprint. However, when you purchase a kit such as this, Lego comes through with the most thorough and clear assembly instructions I have ever seen, and does so without the need of language. The manual for this kit is a book, literally. The illustrations are large and are from perspectives which utterly annihilate any possibility of confusion. I've been taking my time this morning, but at this point, I have the TARDIS about a third of the way completed, and am finding that I am greatly enjoying the building process. Move over, jigsaw puzzles! I think I've found a new sport.

Puzzle Puzzle 10

Click to enlarge

Day 362: It's dreary and wet, so I'd like to present a little something to keep you amused. There are ten differences in this pair of puzzling photos. How many can you spot? Each puzzle is considered an object with respect to determining if something has been removed or rotated, although in some cases, only a single piece may have been moved or had its color altered. Have fun!

Closet Whovian

Day 298: A couple of months ago, I caved in to peer pressure and started watching Doctor Who, beginning with the 2005 series. I had some background on the premise and wasn't sure how I was going to take to a show where the main character changed rather frequently, and grilled my friend Kevin as to whether or not subsequent actors were able to successfully portray enough personality traits to make it believable. On his assurance that I would "see" the Doctor in each regeneration and that the one villain I knew something about would recur, I decided to give it a go. I am happy to say the series did not disappoint. I liked Christopher Eccleston as the Doctor and had no trouble adjusting to David Tennant's assumption of the role. Best of all, there were Daleks: "Exterminate! Exterminate!"

Now this is quite a leap for an old Trekkie. Initially, I had a hard time believing that any series could hold a candle to Star Trek, but my other favourite (Farscape) proved to be a strong competitor for my loyalties. I liked the fact that Farscape's story was an on-going one, unlike Trek's stand-alone episodes. Many of the episodes of Doctor Who appear to be isolated stories, but subtle hints dropped here and there begin to stack up to a larger plot. I haven't quite pulled Farscape down from its pre-eminent position nor dropped ST:TNG below second place, but Doctor Who is definitely running a strong third. I will save judgment until I've survived another regeneration. For right now, I'll say that David Tennant's "slightly mad from having seen and done so much" Doctor will be hard to lose.

Build-Your-Own Kaleidoscope

Day 185: Kaleidoscopes are fun, and it's even more enjoyable to build one yourself. I'm sure there are other kits on the market, but mine was purchased from Edmund Scientifics several years ago and came with simple, illustrated instructions for assembly. However, it contained only a very small selection of little colored plastic bits. Not having any glass chips, I decided to add to it from my stockpile of beads. Even as thick as some of the material is, what passes for daylight in the Pacific Northwest is quite sufficient for a decent display. The best feature of this kit is that only a few parts are glued together. Any time you want to change out the "light show," it's as easy as opening a jar.

Angry Fun

Day 167: I recently made a couple of pair of fingerless mitts for my sister-of-the-heart Mousie (Alison). I sent the first pair off as soon as I finished them to give her a chance to suggest changes to anything she didn't like about the pattern...cuff length, fit of the hand, and so on...and when she received them, she said they were perfect. I immediately started the second pair and mailed them out a few days ago in the last little box I had. With another pair of full mittens to make for my other sister-of-the-heart Patty, I figured I'd have to go box hunting.

Well, today one of the boxes returned home, stuffed with a pair of Angry Birds "pencil toppers" (finger puppets in my book) and a catnip toy for my two kitty kids. Everybody knows how much I love those Angry Birds, especially the black one! Look out, pigs! Here comes Da Bomb! Thanks, Mousie!

Mater's Wrecking Yard

Day 108: A young friend's birthday gave me the opportunity to make a portrait of one of my favorite movie characters. I found him hard at work in his wrecking yard, but quite willing to show me around. Radiator Springs has become a popular destination since Hollywood put it on the map, and of course the additional traffic has led to an upswing in accidents as well. Mater would be more than happy to help you find that used part whether you're driving a Ferarri or a dump truck. Just pull up to the gate and honk!

A Sound Memory

Day 350: It was one of our first Christmases together. My husband and I were still learning about each other, and errors of judgment when it came to gift-giving were inevitable. I had discovered to my dismay that Bruce was not an avid reader, for example, and he had figured out that stylish clothing was simply not my cup of tea. We both knew we were on safe ground when it came to gadgets and toys, so presents often took the form of weather instruments, electronics kits, puzzles and other useful but unnecessary things with which to fiddle. We stuck religiously to proscriptions regarding box-shaking and squeezing when specified lest we spoil a surprise, but many items were fair game for tantalizing examination. We often included materials meant to mislead in our wrapping: a few beans here or there, marbles, a bag of sand, anything to put the recipient off the scent of the real object.

After we had distributed our acquisitions under the tree, we observed a nightly ritual of rattling and prodding selected parcels. Bruce handed me a box which I held up to my ear and gave a gentle shake. "Can I rattle it harder?" I asked, and got the expected approval. My memory leapt back twenty years at the sound, but in an era of plastics, I knew that what I was recalling could not be. The words jumped out of my mouth although I was sure the product was no longer made. "That sounds like the little metal cash register bank I had when I was a kid!"

Bruce concealed his reaction beautifully. He made me wait to open it until Christmas morning, too.

Buzz Lightyear To The Rescue

Day 219: Oh, no! The evil Zurg has cowboy Woody and Becky Thatcher tied to a caterpilla...cata...cat...oh, catapult!...and he's going to launch them into far outer space beyond Saturn and Neptune! His Deadly Dinosaur is chewing on the rope! They're going to launch! Oh, but here comes Buzz! Lightyear! To the rescue! Biff! Pow! Bash! Stomp! Take that, you Deadly Dinosaur! Now Becky and Woody can go free! Buzz! Lightyear! Saves the day!

Being the child that I was, I woke up one morning when I was about ten years old to the frightening realization that I was losing my ability to truly IMAGINE as only a child can do. I'm not talking about thinking up games and inventing plot-lines for toys. I'm talking about something greater than simple visualization and creativity. I am talking about the ability to believe in the happenings within a non-existent world. At that moment, I made a conscious decision to hold onto my imagination as long as I could, or as some might put it, I vowed never to grow up.

Now you have to admit that this rather existential concept was somewhat beyond the average ten-year old, but then I had always been an adult in a child's body. The dilemma I then found myself in was how to become a child as my body grew older. I set about practicing, exercising my imagination every day. By the time I'd reached my late teens, I could see what a substantial portion of the ability I'd lost. I am happy to say that the decline ended there, though. Now as an adult, I am more childlike than I was when I was young, if perhaps not as innocent.

So what happens when you close the door at your house? Do your toys come to life, leading a secret existence to which you are only given brief and tantalizing glimpses? Mine do, and there's no way you can convince me otherwise, not in an Infinity or Beyond!

Mine!

Day 198: The seagulls in "Finding Nemo" have nothing on this guy! He gets very cross when you try to take his Angry Birds gummy candies away from him!

As I confess my Angry Birds addiction to more and more of my acquaintances, I discover that many of them also enjoy the game, and even like this black bird best. He's the one who gets the least press, though. Excluded from any package of fridge magnets I have yet to see, omitted from the array of Easter candies, at least he appeared as a stuffie which, in a moment of impulse, I purchased. For the record, he is the only Angry Birds stuffie I own, although other bits of merchandise are sifting into my collection a little at a time. That said, the gummies were a gift from Kevin, who got me started on this silly, wacky, goofy game. And guess what? He's in there, in grape flavour! Gonna be hard to eat those...