In this era of shopping online, the absence of a tracking number means that the delivery is unexpected. Like this afternoon, when I heard the van door slam on another of the anonymous fleet that services this territory (on behalf of Purolator). A box, with my name on the label.
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With all the enthusiasm spring can muster, I removed a couple of things from my list of things to do before it no longer matters. The RV is now ready to visit somewhere. Yes, the range of possible destinations is limited, but I wanted to get rid of my plumbing antifreeze. Hence, time spent rediscovering the various valves and spitcocks that hide behind things.
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Welcome to warmer weather. Right now, it’s 25C, inside and out. The “chiller” has been switched to the run position, and my chair is under a curtain of cold air. Now we wait for the rest of the house to catch up. Sleep comes quickly when we aren’t confusing the mattress with a sunny afternoon at the beach.
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Sometimes, it’s just nice to know. I’m referring to the ability to track a parcel in transit. It won’t get things to my door any faster, but I take great pleasure in using the tools now available from the various transporters.
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At a certain point, some things aren’t needed. I spent part of the afternoon doing a cost-benefit analysis on a particular product. Now, I am not a consultant, so the accuracy of my study is questionable. No matter.
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Help me to understand.
I belong to a couple of hobby groups that are regulated but various government ages. SCUBA diving: had to spend a whole winter to train for that. Passed written and practical tests. Proved I could swim for about a half kilometer in the pool. And then, I had to dive to a minimum depth of ten meters. Yes, it really is cold and dark down there. I received my cards; without them, I cannot refill my air cylinder. Literally, I cannot buy air.
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For a few minutes, life almost got exciting here. A truck, going down the hill, with a license plate that seemed “foreign”. Could this be the tip of the tourist invasion. We sent our best scout down there, and about ten minutes later the facts were made clear. No need to call out the home guard, or find a supply of quarantine potatoes. This was just the annual visit by the flyspray team. Off to check for standing water that might host mosquitoes, come summer. Stand down the alert!
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In my “toybox”, I have some SDR. Assume the lack of an “s” is because, like the SDR, much of what you is virtual. Anyhow, the newest is the RSP1A, which I believe to be the best I can afford to own. Hardware wise, this is a black box. Literally. Forget the dials and such; you get an antenna connector, a USB port and that’s it.
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This afternoon, I loaded a copy of CHiRP. In the world of amateur radio, this is one of those software packages that makes configuration of a digital radio into a simple task. After a half hour of entering frequencies, callsigns and the related tones for each repeater, my little handi-talkie was ready for life, here in the Maritimes. Or it will be, as soon as I move beyond the rubber ducky antenna.
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This is the week where millions read long chapters of scripture; the historical (sic) sections, rather than the contemplative. I know, I’ve been there. Anyhow, one reference always left me wondering. That bit about the refreshing beverage, also known as vinegar. I’ve tasted vinegar (on my fries, thank you). Not exactly thirst-quenching. But, let me continue.
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