Not a banner day, but a damn good one. My Scottish friend Andy in the Carolinas again; we did lunch, and other interesting things. Tinkering with my favorite toy, the Masterwood MW310 cnc machine. I wouldn't mind having one in my home workshop to play with. Don't have a spare half a million bucks to blow though....
"Got it?" "Almost..." I look like the "Borg" from Star Trek. You know, "We will assimilate you. Resistance is futile." Oh well, if you don't know I'm too tired to explain. I've got on a cell phone headset so I can talk to the Italian techs hands free, along with a magnifying eyepiece and LED light. I'm fishing with a 24" mirror, like a dentist's mirror, and an extension magnet feeding a pnuematic line through a tiny opening. We're installing a more powerful vac pump and it's myriad of systems....
"Let me noo when it's home. I'm going to have a shit." "TAKE a shit, you mean." I mutter, not taking my eyes off my somewhat unsteady object, and sweating as it was eighty degrees today. "I'll be stealing nobody's SHIT. You Americans are joost daaaaft...."
No snow yet. Probably won't get any this year. I am reminded now of it's silent, blanketing beauty. I'm remembering trudging in another's footsteps in a powdery drift, each step sounding strangely like a FART. The auroras in Dutch Harbor in the Aleutian Islands shimmered in green cascading curtains, a magnetic buzz you could feel tingling in your spine.... The powdery crystals absorbed all sounds of the ships in the harbor below, now only distant lights. Just our breathing and determination, to make it to the supply depot over the mountain which was cut off from the trucks due to so MUCH snow. No where else we could spend our horde of money. A million stars that night. My breath fogged and I had popsicles in my beard. "Dude. You guys think we can make it before dawn?" "Don't know." "Then what the fuck are we doing?" I gasp. "You rather be back on the boat? Watching the same old fucking movies we've seen a hundred times?" Carl had a point. Our biologist/observer(not a crewmember), who was struggling to keep up said, "I'm going back. Fuck THIS." He was so tired he stumbled and ended up sliding down the mountain on his stomach....
We all looked at each other then, and within a second everyone dove headfirst down that slope, our raingear acting like boogy boards....
We never did make it to the supply depot....
"Got it?" "Almost..." I look like the "Borg" from Star Trek. You know, "We will assimilate you. Resistance is futile." Oh well, if you don't know I'm too tired to explain. I've got on a cell phone headset so I can talk to the Italian techs hands free, along with a magnifying eyepiece and LED light. I'm fishing with a 24" mirror, like a dentist's mirror, and an extension magnet feeding a pnuematic line through a tiny opening. We're installing a more powerful vac pump and it's myriad of systems....
"Let me noo when it's home. I'm going to have a shit." "TAKE a shit, you mean." I mutter, not taking my eyes off my somewhat unsteady object, and sweating as it was eighty degrees today. "I'll be stealing nobody's SHIT. You Americans are joost daaaaft...."
No snow yet. Probably won't get any this year. I am reminded now of it's silent, blanketing beauty. I'm remembering trudging in another's footsteps in a powdery drift, each step sounding strangely like a FART. The auroras in Dutch Harbor in the Aleutian Islands shimmered in green cascading curtains, a magnetic buzz you could feel tingling in your spine.... The powdery crystals absorbed all sounds of the ships in the harbor below, now only distant lights. Just our breathing and determination, to make it to the supply depot over the mountain which was cut off from the trucks due to so MUCH snow. No where else we could spend our horde of money. A million stars that night. My breath fogged and I had popsicles in my beard. "Dude. You guys think we can make it before dawn?" "Don't know." "Then what the fuck are we doing?" I gasp. "You rather be back on the boat? Watching the same old fucking movies we've seen a hundred times?" Carl had a point. Our biologist/observer(not a crewmember), who was struggling to keep up said, "I'm going back. Fuck THIS." He was so tired he stumbled and ended up sliding down the mountain on his stomach....
We all looked at each other then, and within a second everyone dove headfirst down that slope, our raingear acting like boogy boards....
We never did make it to the supply depot....
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no PC or internet at the house yet though... so it'll be a bit long before we're able to share a beer or two and you can (hopefully) fill me in on what there is to do here in NC.