What The Rabbit Heard in the Test Equipment Room

"Ok, new theory. It wasn't working because you were the one holding it."

Oops

So one of the strain gauges on a test grader needed to be replaced today. There was a "pick a number" contest to see who got stuck with it, however I volunteered to do it anyhow because really, having something to do beats having nothing to do.

This job was more ummm... "interesting" than originally putting the strain gauges was because the grader has been reassembled. So instead of standing on the floor (well I'm short, so a box) and reaching inside the frame I was climbing up onto the tandem case and squishing in between the frame and the wheel. Squishing is really the right word, too. As in it's what butyl rubber (which cover all the strain gauges after they've been put on) does to jeans. More accurately, it's what butyl rubber does into jeans.

When I started to move and realised I was stuck I called for the engineer who was right there and explained what had happened. After wincing he told me to just pull myself off the side of the grader. And let me tell you, I have aim (I believe of the kind that one would call bad). In pulling the cover away from the strain gauge I took two wires with me. Not so bad, except that the wires decided to bring the solder pads from the strain gauge. The engineer was very nice about the fact that I had just ruined some expensive test equipment (to wit, the strain gauge), although he did seem to enjoy explaining that that stuff doesn't come out. (He was wrong. My jeans are in the dryer with no black patch now).

Actually it's not killing that strain gauge that bugs me. It's that when I went to glue the strain gauge to the inside of the frame (I had to try twice) I managed to kill it - popped a pad off. At that point I declared that I wasn't gluing any more strain gauges. I had already soldered two (one at least was done well, it was posited that I may have not had a good enough connection to the sink and the heat warped the pad). And I prepped the surface (sanded it with acid until it was smooth) twice on one side (once for the replacement and once after the strain gauge that I killed) and once on the other (for the first strain gauge I killed).

Given that it's probably close to half an hour to prep the bonding surface normally, plus soldering the leads to the strain gauge, gluing it to the grader, testing everything, etc., and that I had to squirm around behind the wheel, it's rather understandable that it took most of my day. What took the largest part of the rest was scrubbing my hands. And my face. And my wrists. See, not only was this grader (still) covered in coal dust, but a) my hair falls out of its braid all the time, so I constantly have to wipe it away from my face, to the point where only the part under my safety glasses wasn't grey, and b) my shop coat is too large, so I have to push it up quite a ways to keep it out of my way.

Oh, well. At least I've stopped rubbing black on other things.

What the Rabbit Heard as we Watched the eDAQ Output

"So what's the voltage now?"

"4.76...7...8... it's still going up."

"What about now?"

"5.37...8...9... still going up."

"That's odd."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I just unplugged the ground."

What the Rabbit Didn't Hear

I just couldn't come up with a way to turn this into a "What the Rabbit Heard".

After having been out on the floor for probably 15 minutes, covering three strain gauges with a butyl rubber coating (quite fun) and chatting with the test engineers and the shop guy who were showing me how to do this and actually doing the work...

*touches face*

"I'm not wearing my safety goggles"

*head for door*

"Yeah, good call"

City Kid

So I was out at the track running some tests today. We're right at the edge of town. Fairly literally actually... to the North it's semi-industrial park, to the South and East it's fields and bush. It's just open enough to make me FREEZE while I was out there, this being the cold time of year - just warm enough to be damp, and we're still used to summer.

So anyway, I was out at the track when I hear a sudden bang. I wasn't too worried about it, because we weren't running a test at the moment, we were in fact backing the graders up after running a test. However it's still not normally a good thing, and this was from the direction of the bush - the only thing between me and it was graders, so I couldn't think what else could have caused it. I asked the test engineer, who looked markedly unworried (another good sign). I'm sure he was amused when he told me what the noise was.

Hunters.

How I know I still look too young

“And this is our co-op student, Christine”
…

*as people walk away*

“So she’s in high school? Or college?”

Such Good Friends

This is Charlie:This is Sophie:
Cute li'l beggars, ain't they? Sorry about the picture quality by the way, they aren't very big on holding a good pose long enough for me to get a shot in. What they are big on, however, seems to be me. Seems that they've discovered that I'm a sucker for cute things. Unfortunately this coincides well with their enjoyment of attention. I say unfortunately because they seem to think that I'm fair game no matter what.

Charlie is quite skilled at being petted. Or rather at drawing pets out from people. He will walk up to anyone stationary and jab his head into a convenient protrusion (such as my chin while I'm doing push-ups) and then drag his body along. Sophie isn't quite as pushy. She's more a fan of coming and sticking her nose in my knitti- my lap. I'm not sure I want to find out what her plans where when she followed Charlie into my room while I was doing push-ups, but I'm beginning to regret setting a bad precident last night.

What did I do last night? Well Sophie apprently really doesn't like thunderstorms. Like the one last night. And I don't like her growling and whining. Like she does at thunderstorms. So I used logic - comfort is good. Unfortunately the reason I needed her to stop whining was that I was trying to sleep. So I opened my room door and told her to come in. It worked, she was happier curled up beside me taking up half the room on my mattress. That wasn't really a problem though, I'm in a queen-sized bed. At least, it wasn't a problem until Charlie decided to come join us.

I think that tonight I'm going to close my door. Just like I had to do this afternoon to be able to finish my push-ups.

As I am now, so you will be

I'm trying to make good use of my time here in Goderich for the workterm. I've gone swimming once (cold) and intend to do so again (I never claimed that I was sensible). I also went out with one of my landlords' dogs this morning along a walking trail that goes over the river across the old CPR bridge.

It's quite the nice trail, old rail beds tend to be great for lazy people like me (when I have a purse and a dog I never feel like doing anything interesting, those two take up all my energy and strength). I went as far as the tomb of "Tiger" Dunlop (Dr. William Dunlop), one of the founders of the Canada Company. He and John Galt had a lot to do with the founding of the town of Goderich, as the port was developed for the settlers on the lands of the Canada Company.

Because of this history the tomb is something of a known attraction. Off the trail there is a little path leading up the hill.

After the level trail with fine gravel this little path with just dust and larger stones seems out-of-the way and untended. (Unless you're a lot more of a city kid than I am it's not). But once you get up to the top of the path there's a grassy clearing with a few pine trees. You can see that people obviously come up there not infrequently, because the grass is worn in a narrow band leading to a couple of benches set up by the tomb itself.

I read the plaque and took a little break, gave the dog some water and had some myself. I didn't sit though. I've never really been one to take long walks in graveyards, around the earthly remains of people I never knew. It set me to thinking - How would I feel if I knew that, after my death, my grave became what is essentially a minor tourist attraction? Are we showing respect or a lack thereof for Tiger Dunlop by trekking out to his lonely tomb and reading the plaque? He was more than incompetence and mismanagement, more than a town founder and politian. As I am now, so once was he. But just who am I?

What the Rabbit Heard at the Office

IS: Hello. I'm Brian, I'm here to steal your computer.

co-op: oh-kay...

EIT: *snicker* So polite!

IS: Hey! I introduced myself first!

No, that's a digger!

Ok, it wasn't a digger. But I got to drive it! This is officially the best co-op term EVER. I'll take being stuck out here for the chance to drive heavy machinery. I took one of the graders out for a couple of hours this afternoon. Got to move some dirt around, and then took it out to the track. I discovered that if you go over 30 or so it gets really bouncy. So you have to floor it and go up to top speed (48).

In other news the Grad Student Association seems to be stalking me. They sent me an e-mail today to come to a presentation about grad studies. I wonder if it would do any good to point out to them that a) I'm out of town this term, b) I'm really not cut out for grad school, and c) I can't stay in Waterloo after I get my bachelor's. Yeah. Right.

Suuure You Can't

You may or may not be familiar with Stephanie's story of sitting in the hospital, knitting, and encountering a brain surgeon who was amazed that anyone would have the patience to do something that picky. (Yes, I'm somewhat worried by that too.)

I snickered when I read this (and again when I heard her tell the story when I went to hear her speak). People just don't think, right? Too bad that there wasn't time for that poor woman to realise what she'd said. Of course I'm sure you're all snickering at me now, being that foolishly naive.

My job at the moment is involving long periods of sitting and waiting, so I decided to take advantage of that to catch up on my knitting. (What with having a somewhat immovable deadline for this shawl that I'm working on the time is useful). The engineer in the office with me noticed me knitting & was amazed. He stated that men just don't have the patience to do that sort of thing. Now, while I agree that men and women have different skills, let's examine this. Starting with the fact that my boyfriend has knit a garter stitch scarf well over 2m long, and finishing with the fact that this is an electrical engineer talking. He designs chips. (The computer kind) for professors.

For those of you who haven't had to do it yet, working with electronic components is much finer work than knitting. Especially knitting on 5.5mm needles. And no, none of this sank in during our extended conversation on this. I guess it just serves me right for daring to doubt the Yarn Harlot.

Workterm

Not that I'm counting the days or anything...

I figure that this is an appropriate time (if one ignores that I've known this for more than a week) to announce that I'm in Waterloo next term as I got an RA job with one of the mech eng profs.

I will be in Waterloo and not run off my feet! More importantly, I will be in Waterloo when the yarn harlot comes to talk to the K-W knitters' guild. (Must remember to join). (No offense Amy. You're cool, but you're not Steph).

Don't actually have time now to write more. Scott may have fixed numerical methods (we have a bouncy ball. Well... when we don't have flubber that is), but I still have 2B to survive. (Hopefully).

On that note - I will talk to you when I invite you to the halfway point party. If not before.