Off into the sunset …

My issue with Twitter

My issue with Twitter: my propensity for polysyllabic verbosity (and parenthetical comments) means what I want to say won’t fit in 140 chara

12 of 12, May 2012

Today was a Saturday, normally a day to seek excitement, adventure and really wild things*.

So I did.

I was in Launceston for day 2 of the annual conference of the Mathematical Association of Tasmania, where I presented a session for teachers on “Fermi problems” and getting students to engage and work with large numbers and mathematical modelling.** I also attended presentations on a variety of maths topics, before doing the 200km drive back to Hobart (where I got one of my passengers to take over photography duties for 12 of 12, since I was the designated driver but I still wanted to capture some photos of the light and rain effects as we sped homewards down through the Midlands).

And then I went to see what my Scouts were up to (poor freezing souls).

You know what to do: click here for the collection with commentary.

*HHGTTG

** What do you mean, you don’t think this is “excitement, adventure and really wild things”? You need to get out more!

Moods of the Mountain #1

As I have mentioned elsewhere in this blog, Mount Wellington is something of a touchstone for my psyche, and when I was house-hunting prior to my move back to Hobart, having a view of the mountain was one of the requirements (although someone has since pointed that it’s actually quite difficult to find a place in Hobart without a mountain view of some sort!). Anyway, I was blessed to find a place with a good view, with a smidge of river and bridge thrown in for good measure.

The ever-changing weather means that the mountain’s moods are always altering, and so I’m not always sure what it’s going to look like when I glance in its direction*. One of the first things I do when I get up is to have a look at the mountain to see what the weather is going to be like. The mountain’s appearance is generally a good indicator for what to expect weather-wise in the next few hours.

I have decided to document some of its mood changes with a recurring themed photo-based blog post. The “rules of the game” are simple: the photo just has to be taken from my balcony, and, of course, must include the mountain.

This morning I was up before sunrise, and the year’s biggest full moon (since the moon is at its closest to earth at the moment) was just setting over the mountain as the sun rose behind me, washing the mountain with a warm red glow. A few minutes later the glow had changed colour, and the moon had sunk closer to the horizon above the “Lost World” (an interesting area of the mountain hiding behind the lower clouds on the right).

Future “Moods of the Mountain” posts will appear at random as the mood takes me, and the collection of photos (which include a few taken before now) can be found here.

* What these mood photos cannot document are the longer term changes. When I was a kid the mountain always appeared to be blue-grey from a distance, because the devastating 1967 bushfires had destroyed most of the vegetation, leaving ghostly white skeletal trees and exposing the blue-grey dolerite. In the intervening years the regrowth has gradually changed the colour of the whole mountain, so that now it has a definite green tinge when viewed from a distance (except when it blushes in a pink sunrise!).

Unhelpful security questions

Dear Apple

I presume there is a sensible and Very Important Reason for suddenly requiring me to select some security questions for my iTunes store account.

However, you appear to have failed Designing Security Questions 101. In fact, you appear not to have even enrolled in it.

I struggled to pick suitable questions from your options for my first two questions, but eventually I settled on a couple. However, then I was supposed to pick a third and final question. I presume you thought that giving me five options would increase the chances of finding one that would suit me. Well, let’s explain what’s wrong with that theory.

Which of the cars you have owned has been your least favourite?
I liked them all. And, besides, if I decide that it was my Lamborghini Countach*, will it matter if I spell it with upper or lower case letters, and what if I decide to recall it as my “Lamborghini” or my “Countach” instead of “Lamborghini Countach”? Where is the guarantee of uniqueness in my answer?

Who was your least favourite teacher?
I don’t have one. Or if I did, I can’t remember who it is/was right now. And there’s certainly no guarantee that I will remember tomorrow (or, if I do remember a least favourite tomorrow, it may not even be the same person!). This question can’t guarantee a unique answer either.

Where was your least favourite job?
I haven’t had a least favourite job, either. Or, if I go with “garbage collector”** then is the answer to “Where?” (i) “the streets of Laredo”, (ii) “Texas”, or (iii) “back of a garbage truck”? Too much ambiguity, again.

In which city did my father and mother meet?
Since I don’t know for sure, I suppose I could ask them but there’s no guarantee that I’d remember anyway. And who said it was a city? There goes option number four.

Where was I on January 1 2000?
I can’t remember. As it happens, however, I am a chronic chronicler, which means I can find out. So I went and looked it up, and apparently I was in several places: Paris, Moscow, New York, Cape Town, Shijiazhuang, and Murdunna***. Which one do I pick?

Finally, you have not even given me the option to construct my own question.

So, Apple, although I have quite appreciated some of what you have offered, my failure to pick a third security question seems to render me unable to further partake in the iTunes experience.

Which is a pity, because I need to update Angry Birds.****

Yours sincerely

Helen

* Alright, it was a Porsche 911.

** Alright, I haven’t been a garbage collector (and certainly not in Texas; this came about because “on the streets” suddenly sounded better as “the streets of Laredo”), but I’ve had a cleaning job, and it was quite satisfying.

*** Alright, although it was several places, it was none of those listed. Not even Murdunna.

**** Alright, I’ve mostly given up Angry Birds. But you know what I mean.

Wellington Falls

With a good forecast for today, and the weather likely to get worse as we head into winter, I convinced my brother that we should cycle along the Pipeline Track beyond the Dragon’s Lair to see what we could see, and maybe head around to Wellington Falls. I can’t remember when I last made it right to the end of the track; I suspect it’s 20 years or more. On our way in we took a detour into St Crispin’s Well (the first photo), which is a little cascade and water catchment about two-thirds of the way along the track, and one of my favourite “pretty places” on the mountain.

As it happens, you can’t get to the end of the Pipeline Track anymore, owing to a landslip, and so we didn’t get to see the weir and the upper reaches of the North-West Bay River. What I hadn’t realised, however, is that there is a “new” walking track to Wellington Falls (by “new” I mean it’s been built in the last 20 years, although it has such a great design that it looks like it’s been there forever). We parked our bikes and made our way along the well-formed track, and were rewarded with a great view of the falls at the lookout (the second photo). The falls face south, which means that the sun is rarely at a good angle for viewing them, but they still looked impressive. (I’ve had trouble finding any height information but one site suggests 80m or so for the full drop, although you can only see the top section here.)

What was striking was how different the place appeared compared to my recollections of my last visit: back then we’d been able to get much closer to the falls, and the area was much more open with the tumbled boulders and outcrops more obvious. Of course, there has been 20 years’ worth of growth since then, and what were once young eucalypt saplings making their recovery after the 1967 bushfire are now quite sizeable gum trees.

It’s dramatic countryside with the dolerite cliffs and well worth the visit (and it’s much nicer to cycle most of the way instead of doing it as a long pretty-but-tedious walk).

12 of 12, April 2012

Ooh, that’s a bit embarrassing.

The last post was a 12 of 12 post as well, which means it has been a month since the last blog entry.

I can’t believe that it’s been such a long time, but it’s been a hectic month, and I guess I’ve been busy doing stuff instead of blogging about stuff. There are plenty of things on the blog agenda, but it’s going to be a matter of finding time to do something about them.

Until then, however, at least the routine of doing “12 of 12″ guarantees an entry every few weeks.

This month’s 12th falls on a Thursday, and is the first time we’ve had a “regular” weekday on the 12th since I’ve moved back to Tassie. You will get to see some work stuff, my new recreational involvement, and the longer-term (and by no means worst!) consequences of a bout of food poisoning.

The photos are here.

12 of 12, March 2012

Having joined up with a Scout troop in the last few weeks, it was nice to be able to attend a camp not long after (it’s much easier to do all that mutual “getting to know you” stuff in a camp situation, especially because I think kids are more accepting of the fact that a new leader is slightly “eccentric” when this is encountered on camp rather than over several regular troop nights).

Thus it was that I attended the 49th (and my first) Scout and Guide regatta down at Snug, about 30 minutes south of Hobart, on the March long weekend. Since the 12th fell on the early part of the March long weekend last year, and because of the way the calendar works, the 12th still fell on the March long weekend this year despite the fact that I have now moved and the Scout camp I am attending is different (the date thing wouldn’t have been true several years ago, when Tassie and Victoria had their March long weekends at different times).

One of the nice things about joining a Sea Scout group is that I get to learn a whole bunch of new water-y things, such as sailing and rowing and stuff. (In fact, this is one of the cool things about being a Scout leader (or being “in” Scouts) in general: you get to do things you might not otherwise have a chance to do.)

So, on this 12 of 12, the blue tent attends another camp, I go rowing, I deal with the post-camp necessities, and I receive good news from my old Scout troop who were also camping this weekend. The photos are here.

Moonlight investiture

One of my “moving” tasks was to find a new Scout troop as soon as possible after settling in. It took a few phone calls, plus three weeks for mutually checking each other out, but it would appear I can now tick off this task.

Ironically, I am back in the Scout hall I left some 13.5 years ago, with Clarence Sea Scouts. This group was formed not long after I moved to Melbourne, as a result of the merger between 1st Geilston Bay, which had a green-and-white scarf, and my old group 1st Montagu Bay, which had a red scarf. The group took over the old 1st Montagu Bay hall, and at some later stage 1st Bellerive, with its red-and-white scarf, was also absorbed. This history is commemorated in the Clarence Sea Scout scarf which is green and white, but with a red anchor at the apex on the back.

Being a Sea Scout group this means doing water kind of activities (although I am reminded of the joke about the somewhat dopey Sea Scout whose tent sank), and with the March long weekend being the annual state-wide Scout and Guide regatta, this seemed like a good opportunity to go away with the kids and get to know everyone a bit better.

It was a good weekend (and there’ll be more details in the March 12 of 12), but the best bit was on the Saturday night.

There were two new Scouts who needed to be invested and so as dusk turned to dark we crossed the bridge over the outlet of the Snug River and went up onto the low cliffs of the headland overlooking North West Bay. As the nearly full moon began to rise over Bruny Island we invested the two new boys, and gave them their scarves and the badges that come with joining that tell where you belong.

With not a little sadness I then took off my well-loved 17th Essendon scarf* and was presented with the Clarence scarf and name tape, after which I reaffirmed my Scout promise: to do my best to do my duty to my God and to Australia, to help other people, and to live by the Scout law. It’s nearly 30 years since I first made this promise (and the words have changed a little since then), but it’s still important to me, and it was very atmospheric and moving to be reciting it again at a camp, as I stood on a clifftop above the sea by moonlight**, with a bunch of other Scouts and leaders, new and old.

* In addition to meaning a great deal to me, my 17th Essendon scarf is probably the most expensive scarf in the history of Scouting. A few years ago my original 17th Essendon scarf had become a little too well-loved and was in need of replacement, but the group stockpile was depleted and no one was making new ones at the time. In the end I bought a sewing machine — thinking that it would be of use for other things — and made my own new scarf. I’m not sure that the sewing machine has been used since.

** I wish I’d had my good camera and tripod with me because the moon photo does not begin to do the evening justice: it was light enough to see the silhouette of Bruny Island on the horizon, and there were clouds lit up across the face of the moon. It was just one of those amazingly beautiful nights.

Bad pun 4

Non seguetur: When you’re listening to music (radio or some playlist) and one track is followed abruptly by another that is stylistically and thematically totally unrelated.

By the way, this is post number 300. I’ve decided, apathetically, that this is not worthy of any special celebration.

Car window stickers

You’ve probably seen them around lately, slapped onto the rear windows of cars: sets of white stick-figure people (and pets) in various poses or engaged in characteristic activities that are supposed to represent the car owner’s family.

As a single person with no pets this trend wasn’t working for me … which seems to be true of me and most trends that come along, when it comes right down to it! I should point out that I have a perfectly good extended family who could probably be represented in such a way, but they don’t often travel in my car, and this kind of seemed a cop out.

Now the fact of the matter is that I don’t really want to put a bunch of stickers on my rear window … but if I did, what could I do?

So, at right, is my personalised rear-window “family” sticker.

Then it occurred to me that there is a bunch of people who have travelled in my car on a regular basis, who are kind of like family.

My Scouts.

So, here they are, arranged in accordance with the trend convention: from one side of the back windscreen to the other (and then some, most likely!)

Since you can’t really see that (and I apologise to those with narrow monitors), here is a close up, arranged less conventionally.

And even though there are many more Scouts and activities that could be depicted, I have spent far too long mucking around with my new drawing tablet, so I’m outta here.