It’s annoyingly warm this weekend. 32 yesterday, 33 today. And they reckon it’ll be almost 40 by Tuesday. I’m telling you, I seriously need to move to Hobart.

In any case I suppose I’d better say what I’ve been up to. About the only interesting things (apart from major Ben Knapinski Framed Print induced headaches) were catching up with Rebecca who’s just started her new job selling gyprock, and with Andrew who’s back from Vegas.

Both took place after work on Thursday. Rebecca had a work dinner on in the city that evening and rather than drive from Welshpool down to South Freo (where she and Dom are renting) then back into the CBD she sensible emailed me to see if I wanted to meet up for coffee (or in my case hot chocolate) on my way through. This seemed like a good idea to me *g* so we agreed to meet up at the train station at 5:00. I was apparently to watch out for her work uniform, specifically the top which she described as being so offensively yellow I wouldn’t be able to miss her.

As it turned out, she was right. It’s very, very yellow. Fluro yellow. Even from the other side of the station concourse it shone out like a gigantic radioactive highlighter. Apparently it’s so the workers won’t get run over by forklifts while walking through dimly lit areas of the warehouse, but I suspect it also provides protection from any passing 747s, and possibly even the space shuttle. In bright sunlight it could probably strike you blind.

Anyway we headed down to the historically themed Merchant Coffee House (or whatever it’s called, the one with the very historical looking but fundamentally useless electrically driven* and go in my normal clothes as a ‘guy’. Ali has suggested I do the same but claim to be a geek instead, which is an equally good idea. Or I may just go totally left-field and come as something completely insane. We’ll see.

I’ve also been thinking about that whole theodolite thing on and off for the last few weeks. I think I’ve come up with a pretty good design that would be fairly easy to build and operate – at least given access to a few decent tools to shape some parts. The big problem was coming up with a way to keep the whole thing level and get an accurate reading.

I was thinking about multiple spirit levels, but that would have been a nightmare (not to mention the cost). I then realised that if you fixed the protractor onto the viewfinder you could use a plumb line to take accurateGeorge de Mestral and his burdock burs? Anyway an old man with a broken leg got on the train at Perth and leant his wooden crutch against the wall at an angle. I took one look at it and was hit by the realisation that if I extended the forks holding the eyepeice forwards on an angle the plumb line would fall completely clear of tripod with no need for a hole. I immediately whipped a notepad out of my bag and feverishly scrawled down three or four pages of designs – incidentally startling the man sitting next to me who seemed to think I had suddenly gone insane (he may have had a point 🙂

So, I now have complete plans in my head (and notebook) for a homemade theodolite. It’s just a case of finding the time, money and motivation to build it. And use it. Ho-hum 🙂

To finish up I thought I’d transcribe some more lyrics, specifically those of All for Swinging you Around by the New Pornographers. It’s currently my second favourite track off Electric Version, after the mighty The Laws Have Changed of course. So, here goes (as far as I can tell :)…

The New Pornographers

Exploding international, the scenes, the sounds,
And famously the feeling that you can’t squeeze round,
While tearing off another page of loose change, outrage,
It’s another perfect day,
Until the night shows…

Exploding international, the wind did howl,
The sky above was thick with rings of smoke, and clouds,
And hanging on the bleeding end of conscious, who’s this?
Was there anything I missed?
As far as you know, as far as you know,

Was it all for swinging you around?
All for swinging you around?

Exploding international the sun, the sights,
The moments you are viewing through a beam of light,
Propel you through the golden age, we crash land the first page,
On a crumbling world stage,
Into the front rows, into the front rows,

And all for swinging you around,
All for swinging you around,

And off your feet, all the love you found, spinning ’round,
And off your feet, all the love you found, spinning ’round,
And off your feet, all the love you found, spinning ’round,
Spinning ’round,
Spinning ’round,

We’re twisting incognito with no time, can’t talk,
Can’t tell if this is fantasy or culture shock,
Or remnants of a golden age that’s near mint, unplayed,
Or a welcome overstayed,
Beneath the lightshow, beneath the lightshow,

All for swinging you around,
All for swinging you around,
All for swinging you around,
All for swinging you around,
All for swinging you around,
All for swinging you around,

Oh yeah, almost forgot…

Intransigent DNA Influenced Cute Woman of the Week: Ummmmmm… how about that crack addict leading Nick Kline into evil ways on The Bill last night? Yeah, she’ll do 🙂

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