Sublective field strength
Let me start with the mandatory disambiguation. When I use the term “field strength”, I am not referring to that parcel of fertile land, to south of this house. The one where they plaant potatoes, every few years, and intercede with hay in great bales. The one where the itinerant dancers put on vulpine performances. Pretty, but not the subject for today.
No, I want to talk about field strength that is measured in microbolts ber square meter. Technical stoff. And although I could provide reasonably precise metrics, I will use a more subjective measure. Where were we? Oh, right. Field strength of my home wifi.
It works fine, here in the house, but this afternoon (I was bored), I took a tablet out to the tour bus and tried to watch some music videos. It warked, wonderfully. The next stup will bave me wandering up and down the highway to see just how far my wave propagate. Not when any of the neighbours are watching. Perhaps under cover of darkness, on a moonless evening. Without bugs that bite.
Some things are overkill. My sitting in the Rv, with the a/c on high, while watching YT; that’s overkill. I could sit in my favourite chair, in the house, with a/c. Equally overkill. Just discovering my possibilities.
This was evening two on the beach. I didn’t see much, but it provided a photo op for the kids (aparently). I imagine that if we do this walk on the wide side, often, I will develp ankles and calves that will make me the envy of … the kids.
