Categories
Money

Do not toss that Netflix wrapper

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I enjoy Origami, the art of Japanese paper folding. I originally started practicing Origami as a way of enhancing my skills when working with paper. A favorite hobby of mine is bookbinding, but the materials, such as handmade papers, can be quite expensive. Origami helped me to get a “feel” for working with paper. Over time, though, I began to enjoy Origami for its own sake.

There’s something very soothing about the tactile feel of the paper, and following the steps in a diagram. Origami is also an inexpensive hobby, even if you’re using traditional Japanese Origami papers. And if you muck up, the result is recyclable.

There’s no cost to trying your hand at Origami if you’re a Netflix subscriber. The Origami Netflix web site provides detailed Origami diagrams that are tailored to the shape and size of the wrapper that gets torn off from the Netflix DVD envelope. I took at shot at the glider, which made it all the way through my living room and into the dining room, before coming to a sudden stop against Zoë, my cat.

I also made a Netflix Origami shirt, though I have to be more careful how I tear the sheet loose, as you can tell from my snapshot of my effort. Still, the tear does add a grunge feel to the work.

Netflix Origami shirt

Categories
Money

Making do is making green

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I’ve been experimenting with a few simple household items in order to replace more expensive bath and kitchen items. For instance, distilled white vinegar in a shallow dish will dissipate over a couple of days and help eliminate persistent, bad or stale odors in a room. Baking soda sprinkled on a carpet and allowed to sit overnight before vacuuming will do the same for a carpet. Best of all, there’s no fake, cloying, floral scent left over.

I’ve also been experimenting with replacing more complex products, such as dishwasher soap. One popular formula mixes equal parts of baking soda and Borax (such as Twenty Mule Team Borax), though I’ve been having better luck with a recipe consisting of washing soda, Borax, and sugar free lemonade Koolaid (citric acid helps to prevent white deposits on dishes), based on a recipe found at The New Homemaker. My main modification is that I don’t add the essential oils.

The primary advantage to these home mixes is that they’re typically cheaper, but a secondary advantage is that most of the alternatives are also much better for the environment. They don’t contain bleach and potentially other, harmful chemicals, and though something like Borax is toxic if ingested, most cleaning material is toxic when ingested. What happens to the material when it hits your sewer system and your water supply is what makes the difference.

As I find recipes that work, I’ll post them online. In the meantime, the St. Louis Post-Dispatch has posted a list of unusual uses for ordinary objects you might find both interesting and helpful. For instance, to remove the chlorine discoloration from hair, dissolve eight aspirin in a glass of water, work into your hair, leave on for ten minutes, and then rinse. Much cheaper than exotic shampoos, and better than turning your silver hair blue.

(Note, the P-D does have a habit of changing URLs over time, so you might want to print the page.)

Categories
HTML5

HTML4 is to markup

In an interview at WebScienceMan titled, XHTML Users: Grow up!, the interviewee, Sitepoint’s Tommy Olsson answers a question as to whether he likes XHTML with, Grow up! 🙂 Seriously, XHTML is long dead, due to a decade of horrible abuse. Not even the bleached bones remain..

Mr. Olsson believes that we should be using HTML 4, strict HTML 4, because HTML5 is still a bit of whimsy, and XHTML is a pile of dead bones. As I wrote in comments, HTML 4 is to markup, like 8-track is to music.

8-track cartridge

Categories
Photography Places

From the Archives

I have been scanning old negatives, many of which are starting to deteriorate, years earlier than I expected. The trouble with color film is that over time, the color fades and the film gets grainer and the picture can begin to degrade, especially if the film is not carefully preserved. The deterioration is hastened if the negative is put into an ill fitting plastic sleeve. No film does well when stuck to the sleeve and after having to be pulled out by force.

Luckily most of the negatives are salvageable, including some of my favorites. They are damaged, but a little careful work with Photo Shop hides much of the damage. It’s funny really how easy it is to fix a scratch with Photo Shop, because years ago, when I used to work for photographer in Yakima, one of my jobs was to use dyes and pencils to correct dust spots and damage in color photos or to add tints to black and whites. When I showed both an aptitude and interest for this type of work, the photographer had me trained in Seattle by a professional lab. It was less expensive to have me to do the work and I enjoyed it–better than doing books and waiting on customers, trying to get them to buy cheap wooden frames, while lying to them about how good they looked in their photos.

I worked for Bob off and on for four years, and in the last year all I did was freelance photo correction work for him, using a studio I created in my Dad’s garage. You couldn’t do the work in the house because the fumes from the sprays used to provide a work surface on the photo were nasty without a protective mask.

Now, tonight, a little Photo Shop magic helps me fix the scratches in an old photo in ten minutes that used to take me hours. Sometimes progress is a good thing.

forest05.jpg

This photo sure brings back memories.

I grew up in a small town dominated by an old fashioned saw mill. Some days the smoke from the mill would be so thick that our eyes would water, and an acrid taste would form in our throats, causing us to cough. Driving to and from our farm 12 miles outside of town we would pass big lumber trucks along the way; we kids would yank our arms up and down and the drivers would catch the hint and pull the cord for their horns, letting loose huge blasts of sound, smiling at our delight.

The risk and threat of fire was a part of our lives living in and among the trees of the national forest area. Once a fire got close enough to our place to leave scorching on our garage, like the dark spit from the tongue of a giant rapacious lizard. I grew up in and among those trees, spending more time in with them than with people.

(I imagine this accounts for my shyness at large parties and formal gatherings–after a few hours I am overcome with a strong urge to find the nearest stand of trees and quickly disappear from sight. Heck, give me a large enough bouquet and I’ll make a run for it.)

Of course, this explains my love of hiking. When I’m out on the paths, I’ll sometimes see a particularly big and beautiful tree, and I’ll just have to stop and admire it. After checking carefully around to see that I am quite alone, I’ll reach up my hand and touch the rough bark, lay my head against the surface, and listen to the heart of the wood; breathing deeply the wonderful brown-green and slightly pitchy gold smell. I used to think in more fanciful moments that I could actually sense the tree pulse with life.

Trees have the most wonderful feel to them.

I moved to Seattle in my teens, then away, then back after I was married. I and my husband used to explore all the wonderful forested area in and around the city and on the Peninsula. Driving toward the ocean, we’d see stands of trees surrounding the roads and it would make us itch to get out and explore.

One day we decided on impulse to follow a lumber road into the hills to see if there might be good hiking. After we crossed over a small hill separating the trees from view of the road, the sight that met us shocked us both into silence. Ahead of us was what was left of a once proud and old forest, now clear cut with only a few trees left standing among the barren and ripped fields.

We parked the car, got out, and just stood there, not saying a word to each other. I grabbed the camera I always carried with me and shot this photo along with others.

I’m glad I was able to preserve the image with my scanner, and correct the damage with Photo Shop. Wouldn’t want to lose it.

Yes, progress is a good thing.

Categories
Money

The Frugal Algorithm: What it is

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Some say our world faces the worst economic times since the Great Depression. Maybe so, maybe not, I’m not an economic expert. If we are facing the worst economic times since the Great Depression, then perhaps we should look to the lessons from that time in order to help us cope.

People did survive the Great Depression. Not only survive, but developed a physical and cultural heritage that still enriches us to this day. We ride on roads built during the times; our older citizens do no go penniless into retirement, nor lose everything they’ve saved when some bank fails; electricity spread, from city streets to remote farms, as did the population, from south to north, east to west. The greatest change of all, though, was in our government. The little fiefdoms of state, county, and town merged, under one federal government, which went from being a minor nuisance, to a major, and unifying, power. If you think that such action was wrong, spare a thought for the Civil Rights movement in order to understand why a strong, federal government is important.

The Depression inspired the writer, painter, and musician. John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath is still required reading in many schools, as is Of Mice and Men. Documentary photography reached its zenith in the 1930s, thanks in large part to grants from the US Farm Security Administration (FSA). The 1930s have also been termed the golden age of Hollywood, with the release of such classics as Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, The Wizard of Oz, monster favorites Frankenstein and King Kong, and dramas, such as Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Hell’s Angels, and Jezebel—not to mention Horse Feathers, from the Marx Brothers.

If people escaped the troubles of the times with movies, they embraced the Depression with the music of the time, including the bitingly satirical, We’re in the Money, and the song which became anthem for the times: Brother, Can You Spare a Dime, covered by artists ranging from Bing Crosby to Rudy ValleeCharlie Palloy to Al Jolson. The reference to soldiers in the song reflects the anger felt by many World War I veterans, who felt betrayed by the country they served during war, and who participated in a protest now known as the Bonus March on DC in 1932, demanding immediate redemption of service certificates. Many of these veterans were now homeless, without jobs, and set up camp in a *Hooverville, a shanty town named for President Hoover, and located not far from the White House.

The lyrics of Brother, Can You Spare a Dime said much about the times.

"Brother, Can You Spare a Dime," lyrics by Yip Harburg, music by Jay Gorney (1931)

They used to tell me I was building a dream, and so I followed the mob,
When there was earth to plow, or guns to bear, I was always there right on the job.
They used to tell me I was building a dream, with peace and glory ahead,
Why should I be standing in line, just waiting for bread?

Once I built a railroad, I made it run, made it race against time.
Once I built a railroad; now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?
Once I built a tower, up to the sun, brick, and rivet, and lime;
Once I built a tower, now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,
Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,
Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,
And I was the kid with the drum!

Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.
Why don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?

Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,
Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,
Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,
And I was the kid with the drum!

Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.
Say, don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?

Like the literature, and the roads, the music survives to this day, as George Michael will attest. Fortunately, the song will survive the experience.

I created The Frugal Algorithm for the same reason people sang Brother, Can You Spare a Dime in the 1930s—to face today’s difficult times head on. Rather than curl up in a fetal ball, waiting for some miracle to make the current economic situation go away, the Frugal Algorithm embraces the economy of today, and celebrates it as a way to redefine who we are.

We are too often seen as consumers in a disposable society, whose primary interest is what new toy to buy, and how much garbage we generate. When faced with difficult times, we buckle down reluctantly, anxiously waiting when the times are better and we can return to a time of “prosperity”, prosperity in this context meaning buying more stuff. Our societies are based on the concept that worth is measured in goods, and the ultimate health of the collective is based in gross national product and balance of trade. We work to buy, and we buy to work.

But what if we broke the cycle?