tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-276146432024-03-05T05:07:50.558-06:00Jeremy's Blog$ tail -f /dev/mind > blogJeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.comBlogger455125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-48360027385449787232022-01-04T15:39:00.000-06:002022-01-04T15:39:37.282-06:003D Printed Stargate Atlantis<p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0-0Ocayp254P-jlEVQMfnq-QAZaNcxgLaMGPuBjRw8RX6AA6pzYXE68dpNqfVrUR2r6EmWp4C-3Xx4M0-0K8BUkuWWetdZcCUhd-3kD2qPwVG33l8IrktJ6S3JnFVFy2fwOeCP5kC5kmYPcGHs_GEcPzXO918QfOJMR4cnzScsqmDKjTPlw=s4032" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0-0Ocayp254P-jlEVQMfnq-QAZaNcxgLaMGPuBjRw8RX6AA6pzYXE68dpNqfVrUR2r6EmWp4C-3Xx4M0-0K8BUkuWWetdZcCUhd-3kD2qPwVG33l8IrktJ6S3JnFVFy2fwOeCP5kC5kmYPcGHs_GEcPzXO918QfOJMR4cnzScsqmDKjTPlw=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The completed gate</td></tr></tbody></table>After finishing my <a href="https://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2019/10/3d-printed-stargate-journey.html">Stargate SG-1 gate</a> and <a href="https://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2020/12/3d-printed-warp-core.html">warp core</a>, my next project was <a href="https://www.thingiverse.com/thing:3153542" target="_blank">Glitch's Stargate Atlantis model</a>. This one's taken me just shy of two years, owing to, once again, many multi-month breaks in the middle. My preferred coping mechanism is avoidance with a touch of procrastination, and so after having a "smoke event" (where the magic smoke escaped my almost-fully-assembled gate), I had a difficult time overcoming my inertia of doing nothing in order to repair things. And then even after that, I avoided plugging the re-assembled gate in for a long time, rendering it what I called a "Schroedinger's Stargate" (simultaneously worked and broken, until I plugged it in and found out). One might wonder why I'd delay for so long just to find out, and the answer is quite simple: if I plug the gate in and it works, then there's no problem, I can go on to the next programming challenge. But if I plug it in and suffer another smoke event, would I have the emotional energy in that moment to cope with that demoralizing blow? After a string of long days/weeks/months at work, the answer to that second question remained "no," and so the gate waited until I'd built up some energy reserves.<p></p>
<p>I share that first because I found myself telling that story a lot over the past year as I talked to various friends about the gate project, and also as a reminder in this social-media-highlight-reel-of-people's-lives world that there are also grittier down-swings behind the polished presentations. And while I generally do polish up my work before writing about it on this blog, I think it's important to acknowledge the full breadth of the journey.<br /></p>
<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6ERrgLRTfrung5G6wkQrwKhS8Pzq97Hj9XJ4pZ5QGdz_AX3bggIXD_i1NviKfB2nKxry4dNrY6bVZPKtcvIyT1v7fe8hQMm2aECcvdhgy6xSTO09pAb2w1w1M3nZFzyuB5fxSA241B52pdfdY8N_UqC_uXltfoY9SHh-bSjeI5awiIeNROA=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6ERrgLRTfrung5G6wkQrwKhS8Pzq97Hj9XJ4pZ5QGdz_AX3bggIXD_i1NviKfB2nKxry4dNrY6bVZPKtcvIyT1v7fe8hQMm2aECcvdhgy6xSTO09pAb2w1w1M3nZFzyuB5fxSA241B52pdfdY8N_UqC_uXltfoY9SHh-bSjeI5awiIeNROA=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charred wires after the "smoke event"</td></tr></tbody></table>In any case, I did eventually plug in the gate, it worked (no smoke!), and I was able to move on to the coding. Unlike the SG-1 gate, no one had built one of these Atlantis gates before, and Glitch (the designer) hadn't published his source code. For my SG-1 gate, I had added functionality to Dan Clarke's (aka Boogle's) code, and I used that as a starting point for the Atlantis code. It's hard to say how much of Dan's code is left in the finished Atlantis product, but the basic structure is definitely still his, so he deserves a lot of credit for how much effort he put into creating the original and documenting it well enough that I could come along and keep improving it.<p></p>
<p>One of the most satisfying challenges to overcome in this project was the combination of having both addressable LEDs (my gate has 211 WS2812B LEDs) and sound, both controlled by a Raspberry Pi. While that might seem like a "so what?" kind of question, "everyone" on the internet said it couldn't be done. "They" said you can have a Raspberry Pi with sound, or you can have a Raspberry Pi with addressable LEDs, but you can't have both, because both the LEDs and sound want to use the same interface for communication, and interfere with each other. The only solution the internet proposed was to use a separate microcontroller (like an Arduino) to drive the lights, while the Pi drove the sound.</p>
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3vnFZF1CaG1CJH-1KX1a2d8WuB5TneXLYRAejzK3YKRHFN-pOiAGUA2MmoQH8FP5EuSV70D0IyyVoeygHCDd_2EQ8QG4OSqOANvPevTmOouJZhf9lyNc5pv-c4X8lPc_yvjFbZmofP3yjC_I7GIin08arxRLzCrU0dRFpI6yszd4OxK6mUQ=s4032" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3vnFZF1CaG1CJH-1KX1a2d8WuB5TneXLYRAejzK3YKRHFN-pOiAGUA2MmoQH8FP5EuSV70D0IyyVoeygHCDd_2EQ8QG4OSqOANvPevTmOouJZhf9lyNc5pv-c4X8lPc_yvjFbZmofP3yjC_I7GIin08arxRLzCrU0dRFpI6yszd4OxK6mUQ=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div>I stubbornly couldn't believe there was no way to make this work without the use of an extra device. To work around this suposed limitation, I spent some time working with a 74AHCT125 chip and was able to get the lights to light up, but no sound. Eventually, after a LOT of Googling and trying out several python RGB LED libraries, I found one that worked by using the SPI bus for the LEDs instead of the I2S, which is what the sound board uses. I was giddy and recorded a short video of my Pi playing sound AND turning the LEDs on, and sent it to my parents with a brief explanation, along with our family line of "I drew a star!". (Regular readers may already remember the story from my first Stargate post, but I'll include it here, too: when my Dad was first getting into computer programming (in the early days of personal computers), he excitedly called my Mom into the room so he could show her that he'd drawn a star on the computer screen. My Mom lovingly said (or maybe just thought to herself), "so? If you give me a paper and pencil I can draw a star for you," until Dad explained more about how complicated the programming was, etc. Since then, it's been a comical story my parents tell whenever something looks easy but in fact took an incredible amount of time/effort. As was the case with drawing my "star"[gate].)<p></p>
<p>My other sort-of-new-to-me experience was designing some of my own printed circut boards, or PCBs. Previously I had made some tweaks to Boogle's PCB designs for his warp core and SG-1 gate, but this was my first time designing my own from scratch. Fortunately, these were not complicated.</p>
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgofHEjatorMJBwCcK8caH1Uxal4tV4GeY5MMs8ZIJ_IbZPIIoPueRnPkCggCG07JEIj_6ig2nToDlLKzJqd2SP4aSNR9a__lQfdmG6TQmbHK5n_b7nhpJWuWjzv7jJyhzs57WkkFqdUkz8_gzG0j2gQcZAwDfCox4n6cQSim2yY0eqmhMxQ=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgofHEjatorMJBwCcK8caH1Uxal4tV4GeY5MMs8ZIJ_IbZPIIoPueRnPkCggCG07JEIj_6ig2nToDlLKzJqd2SP4aSNR9a__lQfdmG6TQmbHK5n_b7nhpJWuWjzv7jJyhzs57WkkFqdUkz8_gzG0j2gQcZAwDfCox4n6cQSim2yY0eqmhMxQ=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifPihVrYxyGzc0LccMc_ibGKIf83FsLQxM8cmjV8wwm5Jg_jPD8LaGvY0tzCzdtPCDMR7CBrtfWq4WTwdfI6udLXwsRWdiIJOFxJpAePbOfC21-Z5ulWihKYaNUamG5N72qohFzfCXkXt1FXxe4ISebSros8ZYgRut3DAGm2tRhwjb5-daWQ=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifPihVrYxyGzc0LccMc_ibGKIf83FsLQxM8cmjV8wwm5Jg_jPD8LaGvY0tzCzdtPCDMR7CBrtfWq4WTwdfI6udLXwsRWdiIJOFxJpAePbOfC21-Z5ulWihKYaNUamG5N72qohFzfCXkXt1FXxe4ISebSros8ZYgRut3DAGm2tRhwjb5-daWQ=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br />The first was just a small board to sit on top of the Pi, with connections for the power supply coming into the board and going out to all the LEDs, along with a couple capacitors. The remainder were for mounting the LEDs. The WS2812B LEDs are very tiny (5mm square) and melt easily when trying to solder wires onto them. As noted above my gate has a total of 211 (though in fairness 61 of those are on a pre-made flexible strip, mounted inside the ring for the wormhole effect; so technically only 150 LEDs if I was hand-soldering them). That was, I decided, more delicate soldering than I felt qualified to tackle. Instead, I opted to design a series of custom PCBs for each specific area of the gate:<p></p>
<ul>
<li>a single LED (but with easier-to-solder connections, since it was on a tiny circuit board)</li>
<li>a three-LED Chevron board, to use on the nine chevrons around the outside of the gate</li>
<li>a 15-LED rear-window board</li>
<li>Eight different stair PCBs, but all combined into one larger design so they didn't have to be ordered separately</li>
</ul>
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjoCSx_6z74hVmhzN9JzJWWYgbWby3uavQvNBwwNBbfu1QRA-rKoqirgYFMNJ4Z8ZVVFkSDT6WNAdkb7o2Li5kmnVk3n2uiQH0B8Q79SSbxKnMZ81ZYX2qZqQHfvX--qmvOdKO8w2JtDbQk9030303RbE4SaIanWxR4UKPy4LA2mfnvpzpekg=s4032" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjoCSx_6z74hVmhzN9JzJWWYgbWby3uavQvNBwwNBbfu1QRA-rKoqirgYFMNJ4Z8ZVVFkSDT6WNAdkb7o2Li5kmnVk3n2uiQH0B8Q79SSbxKnMZ81ZYX2qZqQHfvX--qmvOdKO8w2JtDbQk9030303RbE4SaIanWxR4UKPy4LA2mfnvpzpekg=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div>I might have gotten a little carried away, but having these easier-to-solder (and already pre-assembled) boards did make my life a lot easier when it came to assembling the gate. I put on some good audiobooks while soldering and the time went quickly.<p></p>
<p>I mentioned earlier I had a "smoke event" after assembling the gate. At first, I tried to fit the Pi and all the wiring into the base of the gate, as I'm under the belief that somehow that's what Glitch did in his original model. Well, I have no idea how he fit everything in there, because I couldn't. Well, I guess, I *did*, but in doing so smooshed some of my wires loose and caused a short, and some small amount of smoke. It was at that point I decided I would move the Pi and speaker into an external control box, to make the base less crowded. I learned the basics of using TinkerCad (a free online 3D modeling software) and designed a simple box in that.</p>
<p>It was also around this time that I did some math and realized my power supply was woefully under-rated for what I neeeded. Seperately from the smoke event, I think I actually burned out a small power adapter receptacle - all I know is it used to work, and then I turned a bunch of LEDs on, and then it no longer worked. Turns out that particular adapter was only rated for... 2 amps? I forget now, but it was definitely less than the possible 12 that I could draw with this many LEDs. Thus began my rabbit hole journey about power supplies and wire gauges, and redesigning my Pi's PCB with much thicker traces that could handle the necessary current.</p>
<p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEOXyjTdMU77tSo5Y6L_V6kKdbOstyPi1N7gjPNPOMnDIYvoA2OPtclKfDTi2sz1kk-NYbzKMA_YIT8j2FFsfP0Cz1-mq7CsEcUuCjCM8Rjy5nR1X9fL1GCY0QJmDN8vPum8MrrdfxJrgzbOdhY1_dpiC8KBS1SkLUWO3TWl6N5OoVnDeKAg=s4032" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEOXyjTdMU77tSo5Y6L_V6kKdbOstyPi1N7gjPNPOMnDIYvoA2OPtclKfDTi2sz1kk-NYbzKMA_YIT8j2FFsfP0Cz1-mq7CsEcUuCjCM8Rjy5nR1X9fL1GCY0QJmDN8vPum8MrrdfxJrgzbOdhY1_dpiC8KBS1SkLUWO3TWl6N5OoVnDeKAg=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note the fancy orange power button on the left side of the box</td></tr></tbody></table>Eventually, everything was assembled, re-soldered, and the control box even has a fancy power switch (it's such a simple little thing but I'm really in love with the fact I made something with a power switch; makes it feel more "real"). Then it was just down to programming. If you're really bored and want to get a glimpse into some of the issues I ran into, you can check out this <a href="https://github.com/jeremygustafson/StargateAtlantis/blob/master/Troubleshooting.md" target="_blank">Troubleshooting document</a> I wrote for future builders to reference. There were many hair-pulling issues, but the one I'll share here that it took me hours and hours to solve, was the story of LED #192.<p></p>
<p>I still don't know for sure if it's a physically bad LED, or something wonky in the LED software package, or something else entirely. I had an issue where when I turned on the LEDs to the left of the staircase, the topmost LED would flash on for a split second, then turn off, while all the other LEDs remained on. If I turned the LED on by itself, it stayed on. If I did a strand test that turned on ALL the LEDs in the entire gate, the LED worked fine. If I coded it to turn red, green, or blue, it worked fine. If I turned on the side LEDs followed by turning on the wormhole, for instance, the single LED would flicker as if it was being told both to turn on and off at the same time. I'm pretty sure at one point I replaced the LED, though I'm not 100% sure so I can't completely rule out a hardware issue. In any case, it was baffling.</p>
<p>After many hours of troubleshooting and experimenting, I eventually tried setting the 4 LEDs in that side panel to a different color, and the top LED stayed on. So, for reasons I don't understand, that particular LED (#192 on my strand) simply can't be set to the particular color "Color(128,128,128)". Pretty much any other color and it'll work fine. I lost track how many hours it took me to figure that out.</p>
<p>The mystery of LED 192 was the last bug fix I worked through before publishing my finished code on GitHub and posting my <a href="https://www.thingiverse.com/make:996047" target="_blank">make on Thingiverse</a>, as well as this YouTube video of the completed gate, which I'll invite you to enjoy now, followed by some more photos of my gate under construction!</p>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/u-xM5j7H9AE" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
<p>And a simple strand test:</p>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Bp345T-vP0Q" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
<hr />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHwrDvusHnuiQj8TdUq5U65-eLfVcX0oc5IsrFD8VS3SfF6qsbCGM5RPNkvfJNQTqj3-AWw2mDHTUjAWeYYFgrrCLq_rJw3G9feCC607QqRfxOoQ3fj-xG4SUgnM6O3kQO3MfBht13rbXNukbCkztQ7LOpPCgwjOUspHTYDx3yfLSwzSON_Q=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHwrDvusHnuiQj8TdUq5U65-eLfVcX0oc5IsrFD8VS3SfF6qsbCGM5RPNkvfJNQTqj3-AWw2mDHTUjAWeYYFgrrCLq_rJw3G9feCC607QqRfxOoQ3fj-xG4SUgnM6O3kQO3MfBht13rbXNukbCkztQ7LOpPCgwjOUspHTYDx3yfLSwzSON_Q=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Completed gate, with control box</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCsgSc01heURHeNQf7ymjoBIUvXVh5j-acThvMrKqyehz6eKQXqkkBjVNqEC0YLRVFcr-KTL-QjVRHsxyYss5b-HpgLHQcS1NGGdIbPhhVcU2NmM_7Di0dlabi7dUcz3XVWpLnS5jkTheo7q1tv9uuyZMp9MPyW58tWLRNarVenZSm0LjBqg=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCsgSc01heURHeNQf7ymjoBIUvXVh5j-acThvMrKqyehz6eKQXqkkBjVNqEC0YLRVFcr-KTL-QjVRHsxyYss5b-HpgLHQcS1NGGdIbPhhVcU2NmM_7Di0dlabi7dUcz3XVWpLnS5jkTheo7q1tv9uuyZMp9MPyW58tWLRNarVenZSm0LjBqg=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spray-paint test for "wormhole" inner LED strip</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOszw8S9_a5euZG4a9Cu_KC5DI5eOkzWXVI8HJf3BcnimRVyzUEdRD5bHF-OruuPVMAGrsguA3jBmcGIkETMPEVtN59Z4S0HG1_rm_XfxijBYn0comoSbT-4lbT-oxExz20Z8rbFxgSwES9V1C-c7uSffOkKgp9WIKDwcBmO9kUseZ_1OwZQ=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOszw8S9_a5euZG4a9Cu_KC5DI5eOkzWXVI8HJf3BcnimRVyzUEdRD5bHF-OruuPVMAGrsguA3jBmcGIkETMPEVtN59Z4S0HG1_rm_XfxijBYn0comoSbT-4lbT-oxExz20Z8rbFxgSwES9V1C-c7uSffOkKgp9WIKDwcBmO9kUseZ_1OwZQ=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hand-soldering individual LEDs is fiddly!!!</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJ9aIS_NOYSikSlJCTBhQFbDGOt7eNNoY_68sBMLZdim_-17buRzEt-ZtYtfkXUeTqTz2JhcFGJTQ82QUBfJ0ILJA8Z5OEEI49TB_ylekvMoKgxAnWvMdKLTFvPw2V_vzC4r27RJNzvsxpmTO0-YwJVmVAqtQP-tnlwsaSpTZiNTtk74Ltjg=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJ9aIS_NOYSikSlJCTBhQFbDGOt7eNNoY_68sBMLZdim_-17buRzEt-ZtYtfkXUeTqTz2JhcFGJTQ82QUBfJ0ILJA8Z5OEEI49TB_ylekvMoKgxAnWvMdKLTFvPw2V_vzC4r27RJNzvsxpmTO0-YwJVmVAqtQP-tnlwsaSpTZiNTtk74Ltjg=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back of the staircase</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg3BaXQx2uySvBfkWaAJjDqanajCOk85J1GqMHzFEISUx3JQ_9Nge2Ajs4UnIH9w8CQzANbm2rYPAXE7qsx-Z2InsDXahkjDzobsRKKIARJDZNYDbbcGE2Z1pbRvpJgjWwN9q911bELoRKBTlhfIMamuTTkY7BqCOjsabjPZ-Q2ZgEtHbdtug=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg3BaXQx2uySvBfkWaAJjDqanajCOk85J1GqMHzFEISUx3JQ_9Nge2Ajs4UnIH9w8CQzANbm2rYPAXE7qsx-Z2InsDXahkjDzobsRKKIARJDZNYDbbcGE2Z1pbRvpJgjWwN9q911bELoRKBTlhfIMamuTTkY7BqCOjsabjPZ-Q2ZgEtHbdtug=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Testing LEDs during assembly</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgyznzY1LouWcdh4YWFxSKQ9nXMihRh6kFFQZqORzF2M7_iGf7ybGfLR0vb30nyW5Gd8wRZTwUZx-BMUNG_cd6e0ZYnuDNxhOVub4bCVRNamdICCYKsdfyDwy13NHVcV9LTOnWAkFI9BUUK5dv4NtcMH2UW-Mny1BnvQMGuxF6tLIBji5cRhA=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><br />Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-23652086023787917252021-11-03T23:16:00.004-05:002021-11-04T08:46:54.399-05:00Revised 3D Printed Stargate, now with blue LEDs!<p>A couple years ago I started diving into the world of 3D printing, and also electronics, in order to produce a 3D printed Stargate from the TV series, Stargate SG-1. You can read about that journey on my original blog post here: <a href="https://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2019/10/3d-printed-stargate-journey.html">https://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2019/10/3d-printed-stargate-journey.html</a></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirT_K7PFzqNbVE2YiivhE875RVthJIGhcaWRIBqTrIZm8UGTVqjV4HlPvx34wDCKfzn6YChwK3RYNxC4zRow-Wrh_jbW6dGzMjW1Ei71nRDUMK2aOeGjV1pBPfTxW1VOJXh2Vi/s2048/IMG_1647.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; clear: right; float: right;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirT_K7PFzqNbVE2YiivhE875RVthJIGhcaWRIBqTrIZm8UGTVqjV4HlPvx34wDCKfzn6YChwK3RYNxC4zRow-Wrh_jbW6dGzMjW1Ei71nRDUMK2aOeGjV1pBPfTxW1VOJXh2Vi/s400/IMG_1647.JPG"/></a></div>
<p>After publishing my <a href="https://www.thingiverse.com/make:749261" target="_blank">Make on Thingiverse</a> and posting a video of the gate on YouTube (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1-aj0O4Irc" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1-aj0O4Irc</a>), many folks commented that I should add a strip of blue LEDs in the center ring to make the wormhole effect more, well, worm-hole-y.</p>
<p>It took a while for me to get around to it, but I tweaked Dan/Boogle's original circuit board design to add an additional connection (and transistor) for the LED light strip, as well as tweak a couple other things about the board that had confused me as a newcomer to electronics, so hopefully now it's ever-so-slightly more beginner-friendly. I also spent a lot of time verifying and updating my instructions for the latest Raspberry Pi software, until I could successfully start from scratch and copy-paste my own instructions to set up a fully-functioning Stargate Pi.</p>
<p>My new circuit boards arrived from China this past summer-ish and there they sat, waiting for me to get over a weird energy hurdle required to "just start." As I've discovered about myself, avoidance is my preferred coping mechanism, and it takes being in a healthier emotional/mental place in order to get my bum in gear and start working on a project I'm nervous about. Why was I nervous? Because I'm terrified of failure. I'm working on getting over that.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXdiR0H6jrai2AfabjF0Nj0AYp0PkNb3GUgL1vcI2fk4hpsAFqsQqO3bNRzZwsYJFYSszE5tNWIkcDl9hCvtUi3YjV2iUbn0m73armuWiVEiACwntcdyXoCqMVSnn8-V6m-5R5/s2048/IMG_1649.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 1em 1em 0; text-align: center; clear: left; float: left;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXdiR0H6jrai2AfabjF0Nj0AYp0PkNb3GUgL1vcI2fk4hpsAFqsQqO3bNRzZwsYJFYSszE5tNWIkcDl9hCvtUi3YjV2iUbn0m73armuWiVEiACwntcdyXoCqMVSnn8-V6m-5R5/s400/IMG_1649.JPG"/></a></div>
<p>One of these failure hurdles mentally blocking me from working on the stargate was that I still hadn't fixed my <a href="https://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2020/12/3d-printed-warp-core.html">3D printed warp core</a>, which developed some flaky wiring issues almost immediately after I wrote about it. If I literally pushed on the whole warp core stack in a particular direction, all the lights worked, but if I let go or pushed it the other way, the bottom section of lights went out. I put that one off for ten months, then in October thought of a different, more reliable way I could wire the lights. I disassembled the whole thing, completely re-wired three quarters of the lights (one of the four sections still seemed sound, so I left it as-is), and re-assembled, all in less than a week. It was done in time to put on display when we had friends over for Halloween.</p>
<p>Succeeding at one project seems to give an energy boost, so I took advantage of that and jumped into the Stargate re-wiring. I hit some roadblocks with bringing the code from python2 (old, unsupported) to python3 (new, supported), namely that the new software drivers for the stepper motors somehow made the gate movements more... "chunky" is the best word I can describe it as. It sounded really horrible. I tried tweaking any number of settings but it just wasn't as good as the previous software. And, without wanting to bore you too much with programming details, there's one annoyance that can be easily explained: in the old software, you could say "move this many steps, and at this particular speed" and the stepper motors would move that many steps and at that particular RPMs. Easy. In the new software, they removed both of those features; you could only ask it to move one step at a time, and there was no speed control. Seems stupid. So I wasted a lot of time adding for-loops and "sleep"s to try to get the motors to run like they did before, to no avail.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoMaCM6EsKPT0HjNTo2ASSJMNUnkRPivY2Qe9nYVrpEaU3PAnJiuwOgmjBl2yDpGt_POQWtsUpVIDi4KZZh2zI8BSiKKa3B-EEKKxMOutyfExWY-mM3xsw4tSy3jN5AOPZjFaU/s2048/IMG_1650.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="600" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoMaCM6EsKPT0HjNTo2ASSJMNUnkRPivY2Qe9nYVrpEaU3PAnJiuwOgmjBl2yDpGt_POQWtsUpVIDi4KZZh2zI8BSiKKa3B-EEKKxMOutyfExWY-mM3xsw4tSy3jN5AOPZjFaU/s600/IMG_1650.JPG"/></a></div>
<p>Eventually, I said "this new software sucks, lemme see if I can get the old version of this to run under python3." Fortunately, it ended up being easy. When I tried doing this before, I only paid close enough attention to see the software throwing errors, and I foolishly assumed I wasn't smart enough to debug those. As it turned out, the only - and I do mean only - issues in this particular code, was that some of the formatting changed between python2 and python3. For instance, instead of something like this:</p>
<pre>print "Some message"</pre>
<p>It now needed to be formatted like this, with parentheses instead of a space:</p>
<pre>print("Some message")</pre>
<p>Once I understood that was literally the only issue, updating the old code to work was easy, and I was pretty much done. All that was left was polishing my documentation, uploading the new code, making a new video for YouTube, and writing about it (here, and also on Thingiverse). And with this project complete, now I can move on to <em>finally</em> finishing my <a href="https://youtu.be/Shppe15uds4" target="_blank">3D printed Stargate Atlantis</a>.
<p>But for now, I'll leave you with this video of the revised SG-1 gate in action:</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="QFIIHH2THN4" width="600" height="498" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/QFIIHH2THN4"></iframe></div>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-51011103382100142672021-06-27T22:22:00.001-05:002021-06-27T22:22:49.133-05:00Aquaponics<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9mMc2EFLabisbkPVrvOqYsnZkaWeI1I_nNEF0mHZRlJgUSLmGRgbysEGR6-1rXzhzbBw9qHYE3OVXTI5lTGx8OhJuxUuhwlA339Q2e1pnLbq7VQ_MKj9OhwPHYZFuN7_-2rxI/s2048/IMG_0767.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9mMc2EFLabisbkPVrvOqYsnZkaWeI1I_nNEF0mHZRlJgUSLmGRgbysEGR6-1rXzhzbBw9qHYE3OVXTI5lTGx8OhJuxUuhwlA339Q2e1pnLbq7VQ_MKj9OhwPHYZFuN7_-2rxI/w300-h400/IMG_0767.JPG" width="300" /></a>A few years ago, Alissa and I saw an aquaponics display at the State Fair (in the hexagonal "hunny building" as I call it, though I'm sure it has a real name). As I often find myself saying, I exclaimed "that looks neat, let's do that!" Alissa agreed, and thus began a multi-year journey.</div><div><br /></div><div>For the uninitiated: aquaponics is simply using fish poo to feed bacteria (and optionally worms), which produce nitrates to feed the plants, which then filter the water before it gets returned to the fish tank. You can grow pretty much any veggies or other plants you want, as well as edible fish such as tilapia. This can make aquaponics appealing and useful in extreme food deserts, since the only "input" you really need is sunlight and fish food.</div><div><br /></div><div>Since we are lucky enough not to suffer from food scarcity, our aquaponics goals were much less ambitious; basically we just wanted a "free"<sup>1</sup> source of fresh veggies for our bunny rabbits, Luke and Daisy, during the winter months when our outdoor garden is frozen.</div><div></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP-YSdHEECrJs2mLQslnzjChm9OvozMpwJ4cMmyMGL4eI0-umAjZwZmYz5q3CAvQNORNs8MpkrLQleylPn3LHF6xmMFhymXbMde37LZIHcEFRHweVIny-c7PJvVI1heiHbbCeK/s2048/IMG_3622.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP-YSdHEECrJs2mLQslnzjChm9OvozMpwJ4cMmyMGL4eI0-umAjZwZmYz5q3CAvQNORNs8MpkrLQleylPn3LHF6xmMFhymXbMde37LZIHcEFRHweVIny-c7PJvVI1heiHbbCeK/w400-h300/IMG_3622.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>To that end, I started researching. Somewhere along the way, I discovered Sylvia Bernstein's book <i>Aquaponic Gardening, A Step-By-Step Guide to Raising Vegetables and Fish Together</i>, which was, I must say, the most amazing and helpful resource I could have possibly imagined. It was <i>exactly</i> what I wanted. Each chapter discussed a new aspect of system design, and listed the pros and cons of each option you might choose. For instance, the choices between a basic flood-and-drain system vs a bell-siphon; whether to have a sump tank, and if so, having one or two water pumps; what grow media to use; which type of fish to raise; what kinds of lights to use; and so on. Each chapter simultaneously revealed to me how much I didn't know that I didn't know ("unknown unknowns," you might say), yet also gave me the confidence to make an informed decision. As I read, I collected quite a lengthy set of notes for later reference when I reached each step. My favorite piece of advice from the book was the reminder that water weighs a lot (8.33 pounds/gallon), as can your growing media, and so she advised locating your aquaponics on the lowest level of your building, so that your system doesn't start on the second floor and end up relocating itself to your basement.</div><div><br /></div><div>After finishing <i>Aquaponic Gardening</i>, I drew a pencil and paper sketch of what I thought our system should look like. In fancy lingo, it would be a slightly modified "CHIFT-PIST" design, which stands for "Constant Height In Fish Tank - Pump In Sump Tank.” ("slightly modified" in that we have an additional pump in the fish tank, too). The main benefits of this design are that the fish tank water height remains constant (changing water height can stress the fish), and both pumps are constant-on (turning a pump off and on can shorten its life). If you're really into the nitty-gritty details, you can also read this footnote: <sup>2</sup></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPUdDB5Stcof5rZKK6u21AWWuPwkeo90t4OuDqYtwxulP2rsBG5InlBevNfMFuyb0NqheBWNeJfn8QFAXVJAWrCBlpcRpWbK5BGcqf3DkOw6-d16h1IaXHIRRLv13Iewd9MU-5/s2048/IMG_6693.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPUdDB5Stcof5rZKK6u21AWWuPwkeo90t4OuDqYtwxulP2rsBG5InlBevNfMFuyb0NqheBWNeJfn8QFAXVJAWrCBlpcRpWbK5BGcqf3DkOw6-d16h1IaXHIRRLv13Iewd9MU-5/w300-h400/IMG_6693.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>It's been long enough that I forget exactly what came first, but among our first tangible steps for physically creating this thing were: hauling over one of my parents' old fish tanks that they'd been saving for us (a 46-gallon bow-front, with display pedestal), purchasing a heavy-duty wire-frame shelving unit from Menards, and ordering two of these hefty <a href="https://www.theaquaponicsource.com/shop/grow-beds-media/media-beds/aquabundance-spacesaver-aquaponics-grow-bed-bell-siphon-2/">grow beds</a> (they weigh a figurative ton - shipping alone was $100 for the two beds!). I also scoured the internet to find the best price on hydroton, a clay-pebble growing medium for the plants; I eventually found Greener Gardens in Richfield had a good price, and Alissa and I had a fun outing there to purchase 400 pounds of the stuff.<sup>3</sup></div><div><br />Alissa's sister Abby helped us rinse all the hydroton as we added it to the grow beds on January 4, 2020. (Er, excuse me, Winnie reminded me <i>he</i> actually was the one who did all the work. My mistake.) By this time I'd also made countless trips to Menards to acquire various PVC pipe fittings in order to assemble the plumbing, as well as spent countless hours researching grow lights.<sup>4</sup></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvYD5mLjh6LLJYPPuGiYk6gW2iXuDFAd2_0etzQl9B5PXzSM-Io8NGaX2M8xr6VhQKWdbB-NTZvyfBgWgx_HAX-jMX9GnQtvvzZ2cpcsW7x1__9NfcQRPik6AnO-zL7qYABpu/s2048/IMG_6703.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvYD5mLjh6LLJYPPuGiYk6gW2iXuDFAd2_0etzQl9B5PXzSM-Io8NGaX2M8xr6VhQKWdbB-NTZvyfBgWgx_HAX-jMX9GnQtvvzZ2cpcsW7x1__9NfcQRPik6AnO-zL7qYABpu/w640-h480/IMG_6703.JPG" width="640" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MGmg0faooBzvKODuvt2X-WHRM362cCcP02dQFed6RMV6hoObDx-mp6U7KQ5fL4VeH6V7KJFxHd-EnZXfFP5P6wglWsvsmofivHrE3mLjzqAG7RDABzbMU5WzJdYohn1YWVQj/s2048/IMG_6701.JPG"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MGmg0faooBzvKODuvt2X-WHRM362cCcP02dQFed6RMV6hoObDx-mp6U7KQ5fL4VeH6V7KJFxHd-EnZXfFP5P6wglWsvsmofivHrE3mLjzqAG7RDABzbMU5WzJdYohn1YWVQj/w640-h480/IMG_6701.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgchMxXBRmhY84hqRxUlfCIQfmhqYsOVJ8XvialGUtsq7FVfD5rvVrIOSqSjBl-otaAzphV8dtnsTZq5xdf_N8AzQEVQTGltbO-xURBogHs5IR07ASuSi6P9pYYtNuEjaU3Iwqa/s2048/IMG_6706.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgchMxXBRmhY84hqRxUlfCIQfmhqYsOVJ8XvialGUtsq7FVfD5rvVrIOSqSjBl-otaAzphV8dtnsTZq5xdf_N8AzQEVQTGltbO-xURBogHs5IR07ASuSi6P9pYYtNuEjaU3Iwqa/w480-h640/IMG_6706.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRiyFqV1afoiENyK-7WKTLvrmR0Vnk-6QMXh4_OxtIYWT0PFaF6MqTX45yDPWo47ussCCFHYd5_OeycV37nzqDWpS3_bnihWt1HPfJSwUbv-7pMvx65cQhwhohasTsLoiqVRN0/s2048/IMG_7308.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRiyFqV1afoiENyK-7WKTLvrmR0Vnk-6QMXh4_OxtIYWT0PFaF6MqTX45yDPWo47ussCCFHYd5_OeycV37nzqDWpS3_bnihWt1HPfJSwUbv-7pMvx65cQhwhohasTsLoiqVRN0/w300-h400/IMG_7308.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>With the hydroton and plumbing in place, on March 14, 2020 I connected a hose to our utility sink and added 100 gallons of water to the system and turned the pumps on. It was very exciting to see water flowing through everything for the first time! As expected, I needed to tweak things, all the way from realizing I should <i>probably</i> use a food-safe PVC glue, to more minor adjustments of the water valves leading into the grow beds. My two most frustrating challenges over the following months were getting the siphons to stop after draining each grow bed (eventually solved by altering how far down into the sump tank the drain pipes went), and removing a super-annoying gurgling noise from one of the pipes coming into the grow bed (solved by running <i>more</i> water through it, rather than less, I think resulting in less empty space for air to come back into the pipe).</div><div><br />Once water was flowing, I started "cycling" by adding Ammonium Chloride (in the absence of fish waste) to encourage bacteria colonies to take up residence, and somewhere in here we added our first plants, too. I tested the water almost daily to watch for nitrites (which would indicate the presence of ammonia-eating bacteria), and then waited not-so-patiently for nitr<i>a</i>tes to appear, indicating that the tank was fully cycled and ready for fish. After days then weeks of testing but not seeing any nitrates, I kept adding more and more Ammonium Chloride, to no avail. I was baffled.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeD-bo4jXuOvOyFPQwO593VD3YHcXBTCxvDyv4IFX3ujinjtOOhOgyVWPLd3VLQ5KtsFcEv-7dxCPYWHS39kGtzhTiROxfHBliygA_cmXzIX8_wS5Vgqki2nwDqET4_MSearqu/s2048/IMG_7402.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeD-bo4jXuOvOyFPQwO593VD3YHcXBTCxvDyv4IFX3ujinjtOOhOgyVWPLd3VLQ5KtsFcEv-7dxCPYWHS39kGtzhTiROxfHBliygA_cmXzIX8_wS5Vgqki2nwDqET4_MSearqu/w400-h300/IMG_7402.JPG" width="400" /></a></div></div><div>I bought some cheap water test strips from Amazon and was shocked when I dipped the strip into the water and saw a nitrate reading off the charts (like, 140+ or something). I went back and re-read the directions in my original water test kit, and realized I'd been testing for nitrates completely the wrong way; while with the pH test you just have to invert the test tube a couple times, for the nitrate test you have to shake one of the solution bottles for 30 seconds before adding to the test tube, and then shake the test tube a full 60 seconds afterward. I'd done none of that. Once I actually followed the directions, the test tube clearly showed an overabundance of nitrates.</div><div><br /></div><div>This was both good and bad news. Good in that it meant the tank was, indeed, fully cycled, but bad in that we couldn't add fish until the nitrate level was back under control (down into the 10-20 range or lower). It took several months of partial water changes, adding plants, and adding a canister pump/filter with nitrate-reducing pads, before the nitrates decreased enough so we could add fish.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibGcJIK3GUL0uVCZv4o_qmLJ9srzTKEPTPVtql8pFtFHUfwJTPOopumgIb56yIwIFLM5SCmZOT90iTNYq0VvPUZt8sbvN77zmv8stCuq5NhefYMZr_gLxjcDacrkkf7pCCMv2Y/s2048/IMG_9291.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibGcJIK3GUL0uVCZv4o_qmLJ9srzTKEPTPVtql8pFtFHUfwJTPOopumgIb56yIwIFLM5SCmZOT90iTNYq0VvPUZt8sbvN77zmv8stCuq5NhefYMZr_gLxjcDacrkkf7pCCMv2Y/w400-h300/IMG_9291.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>From the beginning Alissa has insisted that "fish are friends not food," so we opted for fancy goldfish (specifically, Shubunkin), which are not edible. We made an outing to Aqualand on February 7, 2021, and brought home three fish we named Huey, Dewey, and Louie. Sadly, one fish died within a few days after being sucked into the pump (I immediately added a grating cover around the pump to prevent that happening again). Another developed "fin rot," which, had we known the warning signs, we might have been able to treat, but because we didn't know to look for it, we didn't realize something was wrong until it was too late.</div><div><br /></div><div>We worried about our water quality but after re-testing (and bringing a sample to the pet store to test, too), there didn't appear to be anything obviously wrong. We went back to Aqualand and bought one more goldfish, whom we named Silver (because he was all silver), and enjoyed his presence for about a week before he disappeared. There weren't many hiding spots in the tank, but we spent over an hour trying to find him. At one point, I turned off the pumps and a whole bunch of biologic-looking "stuff" came out of the fish tank pump, so we assumed he must have gotten sucked into there, or died/was eaten by Dewey and these were the remains. I used the canisters pumps suction to get most of the debris out and then turned everything back on.</div><div><br /></div><div>A day or two later, I went down to feed Dewey and... there was Silver! We determined he must have been hiding in the fish castle (I could have sworn I saw a fish tail in there when we pulled it out of the tank, but then when we looked again we didn't see anything, so he must have been hiding way up in the tower spire or something). He was looking quite worse for wear, with his top fin gone - presumably torn off in trying to escape the castle decoration's interior. I put him into a bucket with tank water and medicine and a bubbler, and he died a few hours later. To the degree you can emotionally bond to a fish, I was really sad to lose yet another one. And we did remove the castle ornament so if/when we get yet another fish, there's no risk of it getting stuck in there.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirsqwBkz_-R2aafwnVwrnySzh29NuOMEocJV0sC2xbYaKiBGNbHVCBSXtb0wZReBOCNSoqP7C6BINef6LBLE1tUyumSPUnKYaFZLHCa0xGZQOJP4s2ym1CzwjST4UEUFvi9dAx/s2048/IMG_8208.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirsqwBkz_-R2aafwnVwrnySzh29NuOMEocJV0sC2xbYaKiBGNbHVCBSXtb0wZReBOCNSoqP7C6BINef6LBLE1tUyumSPUnKYaFZLHCa0xGZQOJP4s2ym1CzwjST4UEUFvi9dAx/w400-h300/IMG_8208.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Separately from the fish and water quality adventures, this project wouldn't be a Jeremy-project without me wanting to over-complicate things. My ambition from the beginning was to set up a Raspberry Pi with sensors to monitor pH, oxygenation, temperature, light, and water-level, that could email and text us within minutes if something started going "out of whack." While I planned for (and purchased) plenty of redundancy (two water heaters, spare water pumps, multiple air stones, and a UPS for the air pump), I also knew stuff could still go wrong.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ultimately I've been able to achieve three of my five sensor goals. Let's talk about the successes, first. Once a minute the Pi checks for water temperature, lights on/off, and water height, and logs those values into a MySQL database. If the temperature goes out of bounds, or one of the grow lights is off for more than 15 minutes during the day (perhaps because we went to harvest kale and forgot to turn the light back on when we were done), or if the sump tank's water height falls below a certain level for an extended period of time (due to overall evaporation from the system), then the Pi emails me so I know something needs attention. I've also added a small LCD display to the front of the Pi box that will print warning messages.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNuYRoD00uwCuJ2tjcJ-mFT5Zy1nHUBzHeFIOVXLfLst05wmpAV9qfIyf-D3eOU8JX6LBdTnHcZuP1_K3UjZCVEOJ_UCRZfYgqtS_o6U8BIZgorKZq-WB4zpagxbHGtQHjRcs-/s2048/IMG_9181.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNuYRoD00uwCuJ2tjcJ-mFT5Zy1nHUBzHeFIOVXLfLst05wmpAV9qfIyf-D3eOU8JX6LBdTnHcZuP1_K3UjZCVEOJ_UCRZfYgqtS_o6U8BIZgorKZq-WB4zpagxbHGtQHjRcs-/s320/IMG_9181.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Water evaporates surprisingly quickly, which is why I spent a lot of time thinking about the water height sensor. I think it's quite interesting, so I'm going to risk boring you with what I consider some fascinating details. I bought this expensive <a href="https://www.adafruit.com/product/464" target="_blank">liquid level sensor</a> from Adafruit, allowing the Pi to measure the water height in the sump tank. Unlike the fish tank (which maintains a constant height of water), the sump tank water level is quite variable. As both grow beds fill with water over the course of 5-10 minutes, the sump tank will slowly get emptier; when a grow bed is full, it will dump all its water back into the sump tank in less than 30 seconds. So, looking at the sump's water height at a single point in time isn't very helpful, because, for instance, if both grow beds are nearly full of water the sump tank water height will be fairly low, but that doesn't necessarily mean we're short on the total amount of water in the system, it just means the grow beds are full and about to siphon their water back down. So instead, I have the Pi look at the past 12-hours of water height data and find the highest water level during that time. I make an assumption that both grow beds will have emptied near-simultaneously at least once during that timeframe. After adding a "fudge factor" and doing some math based on the dimensions of the sump tank, I can know that if the highest water level was below 9 inches, that means we need to add 5 gallons of water. If I ignore the warning messages for a couple days and the highest measurement dips below 7 inches, that means add 10 gallons. And so on. By design, the Pi gets more insistent / annoying about it's warnings the longer I ignore them.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivzNT3UQQvzcARMXmke8Y__j3FvgCijOTunjagOu2OllzweVoM4GVLKn1bjliq83_GR1hoIJSMFmr0xDlChL9vevHX8Ii4rSWPAWiad-PPxa3BeS7nyrH3foSQGt_XVx85ZDtS/s2048/IMG_7888.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivzNT3UQQvzcARMXmke8Y__j3FvgCijOTunjagOu2OllzweVoM4GVLKn1bjliq83_GR1hoIJSMFmr0xDlChL9vevHX8Ii4rSWPAWiad-PPxa3BeS7nyrH3foSQGt_XVx85ZDtS/w400-h300/IMG_7888.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>As for the sensors I <i>couldn't</i> get working, there's not a whole lot to tell other than... spoiler... I couldn't get them working. Oxygenation sensors run around $200 and once I discovered that price tag it was easy to say "hard pass." (I have enough air stones and water movement - particularly from the splash bar - that I'm not worried about oxygenation, and especially not $200's worth.) The pH sensor, on the other hand, cost only about $40 (though I later found a cheaper source)... plus hours and hours of frustration. While the small pamphlet included a list of common household items and their respective pH's, there was no guide on mapping the sensor's voltage reading to specific pH values. Nor could I find any help online to that effect. So, I sat down at the dining room table with a spreadsheet, and glasses of orange juice and distilled water and eye-droppers of pH Down and pH Up and so on. I wrote a short loop that simply printed the sensor's voltage reading once per second, and then I stuck the sensor into the various liquids and started recording values for each. The values were frustratingly not 100% consistent, and unfortunately because I wanted to measure pH's specifically within the 6.5-7.5 range, there wasn't a lot of "room" between the voltage readings in that narrow range. So, I didn't have a high level of confidence. Nevertheless, I thought I'd gotten it "close enough" and went ahead and stuck the sensor into the aquarium.</div><div><br /></div><div>Apparently the sensor requires the water around it to be still, instead of swirling with currents like there are in the aquarium, because I got readings that were <i>all</i> over the place (one minute it might say 4.3, the next 2.6, and the next 11.5). I toyed with the idea of buying some little pumps that would every-so-often pump water out of the fish tank into a small testing container, take the measurement with the pH sensor, then pump the water back out and pump distilled water in. But, honestly, that seemed like over-engineering a solution that wasn't a huge hassle just to do manually. Using the test tube kit it takes 1-2 minutes to test pH and clean up, and it only needs to be tested every few days or once a week, so... I gave up on the pH sensor idea.<br /><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmxiqziaMN2kJoYcxsfM5wWdF2NCQ0Srx2ekErUkxuPyOud7dqeoHrlTjqStwpRJF-S6JIeTqlnKw-HgYvAicQ0DwlqEtkqSq8Cj2dbHyakyh94HN0M1BRKls7MeBKX3y1NwcU/s2048/IMG_8279.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmxiqziaMN2kJoYcxsfM5wWdF2NCQ0Srx2ekErUkxuPyOud7dqeoHrlTjqStwpRJF-S6JIeTqlnKw-HgYvAicQ0DwlqEtkqSq8Cj2dbHyakyh94HN0M1BRKls7MeBKX3y1NwcU/w400-h300/IMG_8279.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Overall, I'm pretty happy with how things have turned out. It's a fun bragging thing to say we've got an aquaponics setup (though I wonder what the neighbors think at night when they see this purple glow emanating from the basement windows). We are able to harvest some amount of kale and basil and parsley and so on, though still working through some possible nutrient deficiencies (I've been adding phosphorus weekly to try to help the plant leaves grow better). And our wanna-be-vegetarian dog Robin loves going downstairs to bark at her kale vending machine until Mommy or Daddy dispenses some kale into her mouth.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgViDtfkckbkjfPA8WBOlG3OpmcqyOvQGUkRmnuWKi0iijkO3qx5fZH0EXtQIULYHFaEvBWwrBkUaF4D2zvTtRHCfWVhwgFY6q9MAgl4AgQy5iFz9-awLFbUEWfNKN6t7wq8CFJ/s2048/IMG_8280.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgViDtfkckbkjfPA8WBOlG3OpmcqyOvQGUkRmnuWKi0iijkO3qx5fZH0EXtQIULYHFaEvBWwrBkUaF4D2zvTtRHCfWVhwgFY6q9MAgl4AgQy5iFz9-awLFbUEWfNKN6t7wq8CFJ/w640-h480/IMG_8280.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>
<hr />
<h3>Footnotes</h3><div><br /></div>
<div><sup>1</sup> "Free" like a puppy. When you add up the cost of electricity, water refills, various pH balancing chemicals, etc, it's probably more expensive than just going to the grocery store.</div><div><br /></div><div><sup>2</sup> In this design, water (and fish poo) is pumped constantly from the fish tank into the two grow beds (and also through a splash bar back into the fish tank, to help with aeration). Each grow bed has a bell-siphon, which means when the water in a grow bed reaches a depth of 10" or so, physics happens and the water gets siphoned down the drain to the sump tank (underneath both grow beds). Once the grow bed has drained, air enters the pipe, breaking the siphon until the grow bed fills up again. A pump in the sump tank, meanwhile, is constantly pumping water from the sump back into the fish tank. To prevent the main fish tank from overflowing, there's an overflow box hanging off the back which drains excess water back to the sump tank; the overflow box also has a small, self-priming pump attached so it never loses siphon. Lastly, the fish and sump tank pumps are each connected to mechanical water level sensors that will cut power to a pump if the water level drops too low in that tank, thus avoiding dry-pumping which would damage the pump.</div><div><br /></div><div><sup>3</sup> Regular readers might recall our puppy Winnie writing about "Clifford kibble" in a previous blog post.</div><div><br /></div><div><sup>4</sup> One wonders what Google makes of my search history sometimes. I'm sure they think I'm growing pot; for the record: we're not, but I will say the marijuana farmers on the internet know a lot about what are the best grow lights for indoor plants.</div>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-82556412669253059462020-12-04T16:33:00.001-06:002020-12-05T16:07:56.642-06:003D Printed Warp Core<p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IfBCaB8EV8Vzc5_0Lnn1D8qN2qFLCUcviQ-S9EHRUM_6tHCAfi7RI1GRSStU1a5XzV-ja8t8Pu6jadu9IreBIC0pQ8PI89IpGRDKI1yb1u-P-oG3WEUVEWvQrOqYqikjDnU6/s2048/IMG_8897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IfBCaB8EV8Vzc5_0Lnn1D8qN2qFLCUcviQ-S9EHRUM_6tHCAfi7RI1GRSStU1a5XzV-ja8t8Pu6jadu9IreBIC0pQ8PI89IpGRDKI1yb1u-P-oG3WEUVEWvQrOqYqikjDnU6/w300-h400/IMG_8897.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The finished product<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>After finishing my 3D printed Stargate (<a href="https://www.thingiverse.com/make:749261" target="_blank">https://www.thingiverse.com/make:749261</a> and <a href="https://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2019/10/3d-printed-stargate-journey.html">https://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2019/10/3d-printed-stargate-journey.html</a>), I started looking at the other 3D printed things that "Boogle" (the guy who's Stargate build I'd based mine off of) had printed. That led me to this creation: <a href="https://www.thingiverse.com/make:589779" target="_blank">https://www.thingiverse.com/make:589779</a> - a warp core from Star Trek: The Next Generation. Where the original design had blue-only LEDs, Boogle had expanded upon the electronics to include multi-color lights (RGB LEDs), a web-based control interface to change the light patterns, and Bluetooth connectivity to play sound effects through a speaker.</p><p>I also saw Boogle's comment that: "If there's much interest I can put up the source code and PCB files for the brave and the crazy but it won't be anywhere near as well put together as [the original warp core designer's] guide :("</p><p>Naïvely counting myself amongst "the brave and the crazy," and since I already had a correspondence running with Boogle (aka Dan) from my Stargate build, I wrote and asked if he'd share his Warp Core PCB (printed circuit board) and source code with me. He did! And then even more graciously, he cheerfully and patiently answered my dozens of questions over the months as I attempted to tweak his circuit board to be more novice-friendly (an attempt I later abandoned, but I learned a LOT along the way), and shared numerous other pointers to help in my struggles.</p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_ndui9aUlRQlkrGpNpefMTYRhHjfDpi_aJjKzoJCpPecG0N36_P8PYsoqSIYjQHbQfHin01C0C3Zw9QnB_bxc9iByTqhtdx9p8pRwaDkZo-Z6jerFKjCNRNPGPahNepn4zXv/s2048/IMG_8337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_ndui9aUlRQlkrGpNpefMTYRhHjfDpi_aJjKzoJCpPecG0N36_P8PYsoqSIYjQHbQfHin01C0C3Zw9QnB_bxc9iByTqhtdx9p8pRwaDkZo-Z6jerFKjCNRNPGPahNepn4zXv/w400-h300/IMG_8337.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Early LED test with a spare Raspberry Pi<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Early on, I could see one of my biggest hurdles was going to be soldering. While I'd grown comfortable soldering small surface mount components during the Stargate project, some of the chips in Dan's PCB had yet even tinier pins, in no small quantity. Since these were expensive chips ($3-ish a piece for some), and since I didn't think I would have the fine motor dexterity to successfully solder them, Dan suggested I could redesign the board to use a different set of chips that had larger pads. "Larger" here is a relative term, meaning "still tiny but roughly the same size as on the other surface mount pieces I'd successfully soldered previously."</p><p>For several months I on-again-off-again worked toward redesigning the PCB with these other chips, and finally in mid-summer, after MUCH hand-holding from Dan, finished that design. The experience was turned slightly anti-climactic while placing the order, because it was at this point I discovered the factory that made the circuit boards would also do some automated assembly/soldering for most of the chips, including the "novice-friendly" chips I'd used in the design. So as it turned out, I paid them money and they sent me almost-completed boards.</p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5XQqTb775vvoQU3pgx8_A55memLemhJoEFO68e2f1MIGTjQPLtmefwYqPZNBuJOWJ7ZQ1KPwxjXqkXODFMHmXzL_nrIxdyvYwslYmTWZv3MXaYag-vp3HVKR_jqOTC5gE4AM3/s2048/IMG_8435.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5XQqTb775vvoQU3pgx8_A55memLemhJoEFO68e2f1MIGTjQPLtmefwYqPZNBuJOWJ7ZQ1KPwxjXqkXODFMHmXzL_nrIxdyvYwslYmTWZv3MXaYag-vp3HVKR_jqOTC5gE4AM3/s320/IMG_8435.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Completed ring section, fully lit!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Nevertheless, as an electronics novice, I learned a LOT along the way, including some rudimentary skill in examining chip data sheets, and perhaps more usefully, how to use a particular online PCB editing tool, which I would later use to design my own Stargate Atlantis circuit boards. (see an as-yet-unwritten blog post about that project!).</p><p>I excitedly awaited the arrival of my circuit boards from China, and timed a summer vacation from work to coincide with when the boards would arrive, knowing I would still need to solder the micro USB connectors onto the boards (those weren't available as part of the factory assembly service), and then thinking I'd be able to completely finish assembling the warp core that same week.</p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFeELrX8xbVFkZT5UMw6TRaraYs0OBQYCGxbGHfmQ0nLLvTBF_McKoh7X-W98IAPUGOR41GAHMkAPNkSCpjR1xbwzC6f2JQ6epVZ2YEOT8CfPRy_nmaU7vk6BYpZ9EPKodLDj_/s2048/IMG_8190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFeELrX8xbVFkZT5UMw6TRaraYs0OBQYCGxbGHfmQ0nLLvTBF_McKoh7X-W98IAPUGOR41GAHMkAPNkSCpjR1xbwzC6f2JQ6epVZ2YEOT8CfPRy_nmaU7vk6BYpZ9EPKodLDj_/s320/IMG_8190.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The magic smoke escaped<br />(and left scorch marks)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Freshly into my weeklong vacation, my Dad graciously allowed me to take over his soldering workstation for a day (which turned into multiple days). Things went south for me almost immediately. After successfully soldering a few capacitors and other components with "large" pads, I tried my hand at the micro USB ports.</p><p>Spoiler alert: this went, shall we say, "poorly."</p><p>After several days of effort, I'd ruined/ripped/burnt the pads on several circuit boards, ruined 6 or 7 USB connectors, and then after I thought I'd finally soldered the ports correctly, I plugged it in, heard a sizzling sound, and cried as I watched the magic smoke escape (fortunately no fire extinguishers were required).</p><p>It was at this point I decided to salvage the remainder of my vacation by taking a break from the warp core for a while. Though, I would be remiss if I didn't also say there was one good thing that came from all the soldering failure, and that was that I got to spend a lot of hours hanging out with my parents, which was truly wonderful.</p><p>Around this time Alissa asked me a question that I still think about: do I want my hobbies to be challenging and frustrating? I really had to stop and ponder. My eventual answer was that I do enjoy challenges... that are within my ability to learn and achieve. The Stargate project helped me learn more about electronics than I’d known since 9th grade electronics class, and this warp core project continued that learning. And in <a href="https://github.com/jeremygustafson/WarpCore" target="_blank">documenting my build process</a> my hope is to pass some of that along so that the next “me” looks at this warp core project and says “yeah, I can learn how to do this.” (for instance, I know at least two people have built Stargates based on my directions I published)<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipGOPcPOPIDGnqwdtCfzr6V9k-GJG_Dld9yJyhWYX9ujVsuUk-Gby48m6DUUylbwZTzD8s2bBIpmLEWrKg2zC25wuIsXpj8cSQ2pqvvgO-ZRkkNHwp1OWo4iJOhnGHFFUpJiuD/s2048/IMG_8805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipGOPcPOPIDGnqwdtCfzr6V9k-GJG_Dld9yJyhWYX9ujVsuUk-Gby48m6DUUylbwZTzD8s2bBIpmLEWrKg2zC25wuIsXpj8cSQ2pqvvgO-ZRkkNHwp1OWo4iJOhnGHFFUpJiuD/w300-h400/IMG_8805.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Partial assembly</td></tr></tbody></table></p><p>Now that I've reached the end, I can definitively say the warp core was both challenging AND frustrating, but that I view it as yet another step in preparation for future projects, like the aforementioned Stargate Atlantis, but also my hopes of perhaps designing a Quantum Link handlink prop (something I've wanted since childhood), and my eventual goal of building a club-spec R2-D2. I think I might have too many hobbies, but the benefit of that is that when one gets a little too frustrating, I can just pause for a little bit and hop to a different hobby to relax (like painting).</p><p>When I eventually came back to the warp core, I'd discovered that I could purchase pre-soldered micro USB boards for only $1.50 a piece. So I did that. I also discovered that the circuit board assembly service could solder the more expensive/faster/better/harder-to-solder chip that Dan had used in his original design, so my entire venture into redesigning the board was basically moot (except for the learning along the way). I went ahead and un-redesigned my PCB back to Dan's original version, except with easily-solderable headers that could connect to these pre-soldered USB boards, and placed an order. I'm sometimes a Scrooge when it comes to spending my personal allowance money, and so I briefly considered just ordering the parts and not paying for the assembly service (which is somewhat pricy), but with Alissa's reminder of "how much is your time worth?", it was an easier decision to pony up the extra cost to have the boards pre-soldered as much as possible.</p><p>Short story short: soldering the new boards went easily and uneventfully.</p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnBijtkizbJ88g-DbPo2RpAKM_yQ-7wrJMg7GR5KqGuaCv6HWcMGr-ODqI_W5EnoP9cF8XJ0yb0C45Tnh9tRG_lVBGYjgHt0g06gKcmByZl-poM3nLhKU92ScVaQ8cber_zdd/s2048/IMG_8836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnBijtkizbJ88g-DbPo2RpAKM_yQ-7wrJMg7GR5KqGuaCv6HWcMGr-ODqI_W5EnoP9cF8XJ0yb0C45Tnh9tRG_lVBGYjgHt0g06gKcmByZl-poM3nLhKU92ScVaQ8cber_zdd/s320/IMG_8836.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Partial assembly<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Turning my attention to the software side of things, the experience was neither easy nor uneventful. I won't bore you more than I already have, but in short, when Dan mentioned to me that he'd had to perform "unspeakable hackery" to get things to work, that rings true to my experience. I documented my steps along the way to make it easier writing a guide at the end, and many of my notes were of the form, "try this. Nope, don't do that, try this instead. Nevermind, that didn't work, try this third thing instead. Screw ALL of that, go back to the first thing, except do this differently, and touch your nose and lick your elbow at the same time." Finally there came a moment where I glanced at my screen and exclaimed, "holy sheep, it worked!" (or something like that).</p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhajCUWltKno1LZucPsmpiAU_AA3GtiFqcQvjBTBhn_Zf9DtODY_u2H7fTQnCLSCC5b-8QfykxwvatEdsraI_DHOqTRlFIQVkJqPnqZ4B-M6At5TbYmYL1OxlXkmpaAKpBUGw/s2048/IMG_8900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhajCUWltKno1LZucPsmpiAU_AA3GtiFqcQvjBTBhn_Zf9DtODY_u2H7fTQnCLSCC5b-8QfykxwvatEdsraI_DHOqTRlFIQVkJqPnqZ4B-M6At5TbYmYL1OxlXkmpaAKpBUGw/w300-h400/IMG_8900.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finished warp core!</td></tr></tbody></table>At the end, I used all those notes to compile what I think is a fantastically thorough guide, along with a lengthy troubleshooting document with all the specific error messages I encountered and how I eventually solved them.</p><p>Late at night on Friday, November 27th, I jokingly (and proudly) posted on Facebook that "Alissa's Thanksgiving wish came true, she'll finally stop having to listen to me talk about "warp core this" and "warp core that". Aka, the warp core is finished!"</p><p>In case it wasn't clear, let me be abundantly clear that I owe so many thanks to Dan for sharing his design and answering my innumerable questions and cheering me on along the way; to my parents for also cheering me on along the way and my Dad especially for letting me take over his electronics bench for almost a week; and of course to Alissa for putting up with my constant "warp core this" and "warp core that," and still loving me through it all.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="438" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/gBLjTkZDCBU" width="527" youtube-src-id="gBLjTkZDCBU"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-56908307197748163342020-07-13T10:32:00.001-05:002020-07-13T10:34:59.848-05:00Saudi Arabian Adventures from 2015Between June 2015 to January 2016, I was privileged to take four work trips to Saudi Arabia, for a total of eight weeks spent in the Kingdom. While my intent had been to publish this blog post shortly afterward, life happened and a lot of my writing... didn't. Now (four/five years later) I've finally dusted off an earlier draft and polished it for public consumption. About half of what you'll read was written in 2015/16, and I've decided to keep some of the in-that-time based language (for instance, the very first sentence below begins with a future-looking "by the end of 2015..."). Apologies for any confusion my time-traveling writing tenses may inflict.<br />
<br />
An acknowledgement: There has been a lot of disturbing news about Saudi Arabia in the past couple years, and while these situations <em>are</em> very troubling, I still want to share some of my own positive stories about my experiences there.<br />
<br />
Now, please journey with me back in time...<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<h2>
Volunteering for a Middle East adventure</h2>
<br />
By the end of 2015, I'll have spent at least 7 weeks in Saudi Arabia.<br />
<br />
When I tell people about my Middle East travel plans, reactions have generally fallen into either:<br />
"Whoa that's so cool, what a great opportunity!"<br />
Or,<br />
"You're doing what‽"<br />
<br />
Myself, I've responded to my own decisions with a mixture of both exclamations.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8iz4Un1RzuuhfBrSPLs8qC-9_eN63vhJ9RT6buNZiP_wLJGsKbiwnGlBl8Hyv9hpN5vVu2h78I9s2tAmMRLHptcUeXDm_G4i6tnKXBMG0WOefOREdNppvNImKPiRn3PxSS4VO/s1600/IMG_4880.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8iz4Un1RzuuhfBrSPLs8qC-9_eN63vhJ9RT6buNZiP_wLJGsKbiwnGlBl8Hyv9hpN5vVu2h78I9s2tAmMRLHptcUeXDm_G4i6tnKXBMG0WOefOREdNppvNImKPiRn3PxSS4VO/s320/IMG_4880.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Newspaper at KAUST, published during my second trip</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In late 2014, my company sold a supercomputer to the King Abdullah University of Science & Technology (KAUST) in Thuwal, Kingdom of Saudi Arabia (<a href="http://investors.cray.com/phoenix.zhtml?c=98390&p=irol-newsArticle&ID=1990096" target="_blank">Cray press release</a> | <a href="http://www.kaust.edu.sa/latest-stories/strategic-investment-in-supercomputing.html" target="_blank">KAUST press release</a>). While I was in Saudi, the system made headlines when it ranked as the #7 most powerful supercomputer in the world, so it was kind of a big deal. [of course, since then newer, more powerful systems have pushed it down on the list]<br />
<br />
For those who have no idea what a "supercomputer" is or looks like, check out this video for a glimpse into the computer bay as they were assembling the system: <a href="https://vimeo.com/123295777" target="_blank">https://vimeo.com/123295777</a><br />
<br />
While the company works on hiring full-time on-site personnel, they've been staffing the site with other employees from our worldwide support teams.<br />
<br />
"But Jeremy," you interject, "you don't work in customer support; how did you get involved?"<br />
<br />
Good question. At an employee meeting back in March, one of the project managers made an ask for volunteers to fill in for one or two-week shifts, while the system was being installed. They also mentioned a bonus, to which my ears perked up; that could sure help pay off my car loan early!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieAVh0tYfX_NB9RB-B0ZAnq2lniznFQ4qpUTIFugGoKQSGxo-stM-IsJ4xPQRwgCWBai0Qd1qLcvgFO2cjMK1LK1KD5e3jxViKr-4fbj9OQ3-oGUokY9tfiXmr7NLnKt3R2Zd3/s1600/IMG_4791.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieAVh0tYfX_NB9RB-B0ZAnq2lniznFQ4qpUTIFugGoKQSGxo-stM-IsJ4xPQRwgCWBai0Qd1qLcvgFO2cjMK1LK1KD5e3jxViKr-4fbj9OQ3-oGUokY9tfiXmr7NLnKt3R2Zd3/s400/IMG_4791.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The computer building at KAUST where I worked each day;<br />
Cafeteria on left, and reflection pond in foreground.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
These employee meetings are optional, and I usually skip them. I don't remember why in particular I attended that day, but please allow me to digress for a couple paragraphs to talk about another way (in addition to the Saudi opportunity) in which that decision was life-and-career-altering. At the meeting, I was joined by a manager I knew from a different group, and we got to talking afterward; she mentioned how she would have an entry-level position opening soon in her group, so if I had any friends just graduating college who might be interested, I should send them her way. "Actually," I told her, "if there's any way you can make that a level II position instead of entry, <em>I'd</em> be interested." "Oh!" she replied, surprised. "Let me see what I can do..."<br />
<br />
Months ago, there had been a similar opening in this same group, and I'd very seriously considered applying. However, at that time I opted to stay put where I was, because I really liked my coworkers and current job responsibilities, and couldn't find peace in my heart about leaving. This time around was different. Literally 18 hours prior to this conversation, my manager broke the news to me that they were shuffling responsibilities, and I'd be losing the half of my job that I really loved. I can't say I was terribly surprised, because the writing had been appearing on the wall for months; nevertheless it was still a disappointing decision. My manager also understood that by telling me this, odds were good I'd start looking for a different job elsewhere in the company. This was true. So, when I heard from new-manager the very next morning about an opening for a job that was 100% what-I-loved-doing, I jumped on it. Long story short: she brought my case to her director, fought for approval to get the position bumped from level I to II, and I started in the new group less than a month later. I miss many of my coworkers from my old group (I still see them, just less often), but this new job is a better fit for where I want to head career-wise, and I'm getting to work side-by-side with some brilliant folks (for instance, there are over 100 years of company experience between just three of the guys on my team). All that to say, attending that one, 20-minute meeting, ended up being QUITE life-changing.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLqOP9W5-nk4VBjjf4-EkcabARAJthO0o5j2ghDRa8e9vvqs00iSnjdq3q7KMwAlk2tTeNaIDEhiVss09x9mruLebhCNwlKn2iai7E5X8pmQt2v4hkDGJHxhZK0xaOMEv1gsI6/s1600/IMG_4564.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLqOP9W5-nk4VBjjf4-EkcabARAJthO0o5j2ghDRa8e9vvqs00iSnjdq3q7KMwAlk2tTeNaIDEhiVss09x9mruLebhCNwlKn2iai7E5X8pmQt2v4hkDGJHxhZK0xaOMEv1gsI6/s400/IMG_4564.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Closer view of Building 1, and the door I went in each day.<br />
Also, there are lots of bikes at KAUST.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I wrote an email to the lead KAUST installation project manager, laying out my skillset and asking if I had any of the skills they needed for the site volunteers. We talked in person the next week and yes, they could use me! After clearing it with my new manager, I offered some possible weeks that I could travel. Originally I'd intended only to volunteer for one set of dates, but they took my "or" as an "and" and scheduled me for both. Being single at the time, with no kids and no pets at home, I think I was kind of an ideal candidate. And fortunately my new boss agreed that supporting KAUST was a high priority and gave me wide latitude to keep pursuing it.<br />
<br />
Preparing for my travels became an adventure in and of itself. First step: get a visa. KSA doesn't let anyone in without a visa (and also a valid passport; I had my first experience with expedited renewal, since mine was expiring soon!), and in order to obtain a visa, you need a letter of invitation from a corporate entity within the Kingdom. We had a local KSA company who was able to provide invitation letters, so this was a smooth process, it just took time. Once we had my invitation, we shipped my passport to the embassy for an official visa. Once I had that back, one of our AAs worked with me to book flights, hotels, taxis from/to the airport, and a gate pass to get into KAUST, which is a secure gated community. I'm extremely grateful for my coworker Joe who went <em>far</em> beyond the call of duty holding my hand through the whole process, making sure I had all my paperwork and reservations in order.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB86y8bmNF1COGkRCurTTf_BqdXGzhqHxYiXWWobtKmTbIypBNC9piksmf3hhFpwskCdMA_Z-SXn1dKaxfEDpUxWSapNJbtd-kW1EFc5fhs42I3RxZS-xrwkDPxfBQK5rafCDw/s1600/IMG_4549.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB86y8bmNF1COGkRCurTTf_BqdXGzhqHxYiXWWobtKmTbIypBNC9piksmf3hhFpwskCdMA_Z-SXn1dKaxfEDpUxWSapNJbtd-kW1EFc5fhs42I3RxZS-xrwkDPxfBQK5rafCDw/s320/IMG_4549.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bay La Sun hotel in KAEC</td></tr>
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During the hotel-booking process, I found out I'd be staying off-campus for the first trip, because the on-campus hotel was fully booked. This made me feel, to put it mildly, "uncomfortable." Having never been to Saudi before, my only knowledge of the country came from news reports about bloggers being sentenced to 1000 lashes for writing anti-King[dom] sentiments, or a woman who was raped being sentenced to lashes for adultery, or the bombings with Yemen. I knew KAUST campus itself was safe (and fortunately far away from Yemen), but didn't feel comfortable staying off-campus. As my parents can attest, I very nearly pulled the plug on the whole trip, but I'm very glad I didn't. After talking with many coworkers and friends and people who'd been there and returned with all limbs attached, I suppressed my nervousness and affirmed my decision to go. A couple days before my first flight, I had a chance to grab coffee with my aquaintance Stefan, the worship leader from my evening church, who has traveled to the Middle East extensively and has numerous friends there; hearing his perspective considerably eased my tension, and also got me really thinking about how founded or unfounded my fears might be. I wrote a blog post at the time but never published it, so I'm going to include that here:<br />
<hr />
<br />
<h3>
Unpublished blog post from 2015</h3>
<br />
This summer I made two trips to Saudi Arabia for work to help with a customer site. To be bluntly honest, I was quite apprehensive about being a Christian (with the word "hope" tattooed on my arm) traveling to an Islamic country, very near Mecca, during Ramadan. A couple Sundays before my trip, though, the worship leader at my evening church told a story about a barber friend/acquaintance of his who was wearing a shirt that said "I'm Muslim, don't panic." Stefan explained the word "Muslim" means "one who follows God." Hearing his story, a lot of my fear went away, and I started thinking about what it must be like for many Muslims who come to live in or visit America - living in the minority, not knowing the language, being feared and judged and harassed because of the actions of a few (or of a country's choices that they don't control).<br />
<br />
That in turn got me thinking about some cultural differences. I can't judge my friends and family for being worried about me as I travel - as I already said I was a bit worried myself - but... here are some thoughts (written before my first flight lifted off):<br />
<ul>
<li>In the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, alcohol is forbidden. In American, some people drive drunk and kill innocents on the road.</li>
<li>Saudi Arabia has been dropping bombs on Yemen. The US has invaded two countries and started how many wars, just within my lifetime.</li>
<li>Smuggling drugs into the Kingdom is punishable by death. In the US, our "justice" system killed 35 people in 2014 [<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_offenders_executed_in_the_United_States_in_2014" target="_blank">citation</a>], 15 so far this year [<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_offenders_executed_in_the_United_States_in_2015" target="_blank">citation</a>], and has over 2600 inmates awaiting death [<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_United_States_death_row_inmates" target="_blank">citation</a>]. And, in the US, our "war on drugs" has cost billions of tax payer dollars, and doesn't seem to have accomplished much [<a href="http://www.drugsense.org/cms/wodclock" target="_blank">citation</a>].</li>
<li>Saudi Arabia hires foreigners to do all the "dirty" jobs. The US tends to do the same.</li>
<li>It's illegal for women to drive in Saudi Arabia [this law was changed in 2018]. In the US, women's suffrage happened less than a century ago, and sexism is still alive and well. (one example I care a lot about: in many churches, women still cannot be ordained or hold leadership roles)</li>
<li>It's illegal to bring bibles into Saudi. In the US we allow douche-tool Christians to protest outside of mosques, mock the Islamic holy Prophet, and hold book burnings of the Koran. Somehow we justify these hate crimes under "free speech."</li>
<li>From <a href="http://www.nationmaster.com/country-info/compare/Saudi-Arabia/United-States/Crime" target="_blank">at least one source</a>, per-1000 crime rate in Saudi is 3.88, vs 41.29 in the US. Now, with that said, reading the Wikipedia page doesn't exactly reassure me: "The Saudi legal system is based on Sharia or Islamic law and thus often prohibits many activities that are not crimes in other nations, such as alcohol or pork consumption, public displays of non-Islamic religious symbols or text, affection between opposite sex, "indecent" artwork or media images, homosexuality, cross-dressing, fornication or adultery." [<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crime_in_Saudi_Arabia" target="_blank">citation</a>]</li>
</ul>
It's been a lot to think about.<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<h2>
Trip #1</h2>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisQ7gDJCeB154togLVQwwrWmRZ9YgUsdQEs-k90uofR6aL5Ws4hNJ8rvhVO0M_92cqW3qHis6kV4xmTg3XjW99-ZoMQFTIQuRXezDpQ6wP-NeWde4cAGz3y2mdR25OZcCwLoHL/s1600/IMG_4531.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisQ7gDJCeB154togLVQwwrWmRZ9YgUsdQEs-k90uofR6aL5Ws4hNJ8rvhVO0M_92cqW3qHis6kV4xmTg3XjW99-ZoMQFTIQuRXezDpQ6wP-NeWde4cAGz3y2mdR25OZcCwLoHL/s400/IMG_4531.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saudia safety pamphlet</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Packing was stressful, largely because I chose to wait until the last evening before & morning of my flight to throw everything into my suitcase. I based my packing list off of my most recent LA travels, plus a few things like passport, electricity adapters, and travel papers that I wanted to have handy when going through immigration. This process was complicated by figuring out precisely what I'd need in my carry-ons (for example, I always pack a set of clothes to carry-on, in case my checked luggage is lost or delayed) and if I'd just done it a few days earlier it would have been so much less stressful; leaving everything until the last minute because I'd been busy, was plain and simple a mistake.<br />
<br />
My flight was divided into two legs: 9 hours from MSP to Charles de Gaulle in Paris, a 3 hour layover, then 6 hours from CDG to Jeddah, KSA. Because my first flight went overnight, I tried to sleep for most of it (though I did finish watching an Apple keynote, and started watching the first Maze Runner movie, while waiting for the first meal to be served). I left Minneapolis on a Friday evening and arrived in Jeddah Saturday night local time, so I basically lost a day. On the plus side, that meant essentially gaining a day later when I came home. A fascinating new-to-me experience on my second flight (operated by Saudia) was while we taxied: following a standard airplane safety video, they then played a travel prayer (with english translation in the video) that Prophet Mohammed prayed when he traveled. It was very soothing.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQe5Qg6BzFJt6vsg1tQdZ1ZEZtd-FXJgZrFIS0sepwx3gPkfo-oIZjYmCkanMndjF5I7GMV6UMzswEqdhjglGxJ8iJlAtuP48kjHNptuJEHlQ4XMQqrW9Rmo2SSVgXuZIDaV-a/s1600/IMG_5310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQe5Qg6BzFJt6vsg1tQdZ1ZEZtd-FXJgZrFIS0sepwx3gPkfo-oIZjYmCkanMndjF5I7GMV6UMzswEqdhjglGxJ8iJlAtuP48kjHNptuJEHlQ4XMQqrW9Rmo2SSVgXuZIDaV-a/s400/IMG_5310.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saudi Arabia from the air.<br />
I kept looking for Sand worms, Banthas,<br />
and Sarlaccs, but didn't see any.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
What <em>wasn't</em> soothing was arriving and going through immigration. I'd been warned by my coworker that the mad rush to get off the plane was... well... mad. At the Jeddah airport, we deplaned in the middle of the desert and loaded onto buses; these took us to the main terminal where the immigration lines are. I succeeded in getting onto the first bus to depart (win!) and then de-bussed reasonably quickly at the terminal, but then... I didn't know where to go, because the signage inside the entrance was not particularly clear. When I got into the large immigration room with lines and lines of people, it took me minutes to figure out which line to wait in, which lost me any advantage I might have garnered being early off the bus. Shoot.<br />
<br />
Immigration took (are you ready?) : two and a half freaking hours. It was a MESS. (side-note: for this and other reasons, the Jeddah airport [JED] was ranked at the time as the <a href="https://www.sleepinginairports.net/survey/2015-worst-airports-world.htm" target="_blank">world's second worst airport</a>) Pilgrims were budging, some lines (like mine) weren't moving at all, other lines people were sailing through. I'd been advised to prepare for a 45 minute wait, because anyone coming into the Kingdom for the first time has to be fingerprinted and photo taken and I'd heard the computer system takes forever (upwards of 10 minutes) to process that information, but I was not prepared to stand there for hours on end, after roughly 20 hours of traveling and being sleep-deprived. While in line at least I could text with my girlfriend (ps I have a girlfriend now, which is one reason I haven't had time to blog much since April! She's worth it though) [update: now she's actually my wife :) ], and I met a guy who spoke both Arabic and English, who tried to get us both into a faster line. I think he might have actually succeeded, but our new line was still abysmally slow compared to another one next to us.<br />
<br />
Anyway. After waiting far too long, I got through, then had to search for my suitcase. This was another panic-moment, since none of the carousels were labeled with flight info. Eventually I broke through my stubbornness/pride and asked someone who worked there; he pointed me to the correct carousel area, where I found my bag in the middle of a large pile of bags all waiting for their owners still stuck back in immigration.<br />
<br />
"Customs" involved sending my bags on an X-ray conveyor and picking them up on the other side, which took a grand total of 30 seconds. Huge relief. Then I finally left the immigration area to find my taxi driver. In the "receiving line" as I call it, there were a lot of drivers holding signs with names; I kept looking at each with hope, and they looked at me in return with hope, only to sadly shake my head, "no, you're not my driver :("... but then at the end of the line I found him! He said he'd almost left without me because it had taken so long. Yikes! And whew! We walked a short distance to the parking lot, loaded my bags into the trunk, and I proceeded to nap in the back seat. It was over an hour drive to King Abdullah Economic City (KAEC) where I would be staying this trip, and then another 15 minutes from entering the city gates until we got to the hotel (long stretches of road dotted with roundabouts, most of which had only two roads intersecting them; the city has been walled off but remained [at the time] largely unfinished within those walls).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGimYUtEfETTS2gjgA5pQj7oTiJg-3-QwMrk2ZLXjhAuGgTH-Ilwn3BuneSnmPusnqCsAlatWS7TDoApWdxLzgpZeLjrv3X4GA7TzWQ2MXCnxHubW8wNDo8oO0ucROMSY0DNFo/s1600/IMG_4573.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGimYUtEfETTS2gjgA5pQj7oTiJg-3-QwMrk2ZLXjhAuGgTH-Ilwn3BuneSnmPusnqCsAlatWS7TDoApWdxLzgpZeLjrv3X4GA7TzWQ2MXCnxHubW8wNDo8oO0ucROMSY0DNFo/s640/IMG_4573.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bay La Sun hotel reception</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYCXe2YzCgpLVstjW8ogU4FcXANobW9FwhjIG9JNXYpXeYIz3j6JrQpZB-MJWbE82ZulQfWUPLXKphOeT0AwvBiy1lIGkUGiMDcRLbuWIkX5Ws0KUZFn2LxaeIbSWRA2nQoTul/s1600/IMG_4532.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYCXe2YzCgpLVstjW8ogU4FcXANobW9FwhjIG9JNXYpXeYIz3j6JrQpZB-MJWbE82ZulQfWUPLXKphOeT0AwvBiy1lIGkUGiMDcRLbuWIkX5Ws0KUZFn2LxaeIbSWRA2nQoTul/s400/IMG_4532.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome message on the hotel room TV</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For all the stress of pre-trip uncertainties and agonies of travel and immigration, Bay La Sun hotel marked a turning point toward awesomeness; as my Grandma Sue would have said, it was "very deluxe" (and for almost $300/night, it'd better be!). Of course my first night all I really cared about was the bed :) I got to the hotel about 10:15 that night and unpacked somewhat, showered, prepped my briefcase for the next morning, and fell asleep. Jetlag kept me from sleeping all night like I should have, which sucked, because I had made plans to meet my fellow site workers for breakfast at 6:30 the next morning. Those who know me know I struggle to function without 8-9 full hours of sleep, so those first few days were rough.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleep! Glorious sleep.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh fruit in the fancy hotel room</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bay La Sun hotel from my floor looking down</td></tr>
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At the hotel's breakfast buffet, I enjoyed chicken sausage and beef bacon (no pork in KSA), mango juice, and some dried fruit bits. (I was never brave enough to try the carrot juice, though I heard it was good). Because I had never met the other site workers, I didn't know which table to introduce myself to, so... I ate by myself that first day. On my way out of the restaurant, though, I recognized a software logo on a guy's shirt, so I shyly introduced myself and at long last met my coworkers, one from Switzerland and one from the UK. We meandered out to the bus (which leaves promptly at 7:20 each morning... sooooo early...), and on the bus I met the fourth of our group, who was from Lebanon. My entire first week in Saudi Arabia, I did not hear another American accent.<br />
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The shuttle bus ride from Bay La Sun / KAEC to KAUST was 40 minutes, which is enough time for a short nap. It's also long enough to see all the sights: sand, sand, a few camels, and more sand. Having recently read Dune, I realized I might be living inside those novels and had flown to Arrakis (or perhaps Tatooine); sadly I did not see any sand worms, though I'll further the metaphor by suggesting oil could be the Arabian form of Dune Spice, and that KAUST and KAEC were like the Atreides' palace in Arrakeen, with palm trees in the middle of a desert where water is power.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Water fountain at KAUST</td></tr>
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KAUST has two security checkpoints on the way in, between which is the visitor's center where I picked up my temporary visitor ID; a few days later I was given an official ID valid for 1-month. Once inside the gate it's a 3-minute-ish ride to the bus drop-off, then a few minutes' walk to the computer building, where we arrived almost precisely at 8 a.m.<br />
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After meeting the on-site admin team (KAUST employees, several from the UK, one from Poland), I learned we would be starting on a software upgrade, similar to what I've done almost every week since starting at my job. Woohoo! I rejoiced, for upon hearing this news I knew I could actually be useful!<br />
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Going into my first trip I had fretted, "do I have the skills they need? or will I just be a warm body filling in a contractual obligation?" Over and over during my trips, I discovered my worries were unfounded. While I only volunteered for the KAUST experience a few months ago, I have felt as though all of my training and learning over my career at the company has prepared me for this specific trip and the specific issues that happened while I was there. As well, my own personal improvement work on my people skills proved invaluable; if I might be so humble: I felt perfectly placed.<br />
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During my first week I worked primarily on software upgrades and troubleshooting, but I also got to have a crash course in hardware work, which I've never done before. The hardware guy showed me how to pull a blade from the system, take it apart, and replace all the different components. "How much does this blade cost that I'm carrying?" I asked one day. "Probably about $40,000," he said. *Gasp* / *Gulp*. Like he told me would happen, though, I got over the fear of that dollar sign pretty quickly.<br />
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Because we were staying off-campus at Bay La Sun, our work day wrapped up promptly at 5 p.m. in order to catch the shuttle bus that left KAUST promptly at 5:15. This was inconvenient more than once, when we needed "just 5 more minutes" to finish something (also inconvenient the day I had a terrible headache and just wanted to take a short nap back at the hotel!). Coupled with the commute time the bus schedule made for long days, especially my first couple days while I battled jetlag. Nearly fell asleep at my computer some of those warm afternoons right after lunch.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn8RVoYY8Ntzz9VSXzGMXnQ8JZgWegWmVMMcma0BA1Vp3C7b1A0COFg3srhGEh9J0JkYTRgRM4LakYecsu6drqdhiRCPdlP50bszpawm6fuSyDuQI6pVw2d-tiSVOBiBe9IfSX/s1600/IMG_4658.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn8RVoYY8Ntzz9VSXzGMXnQ8JZgWegWmVMMcma0BA1Vp3C7b1A0COFg3srhGEh9J0JkYTRgRM4LakYecsu6drqdhiRCPdlP50bszpawm6fuSyDuQI6pVw2d-tiSVOBiBe9IfSX/s320/IMG_4658.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KAUST computer building on left; cafeteria on right;<br />
Red Sea in distance</td></tr>
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Speaking of lunch, KAUST has over a dozen restaurants / eateries on campus, so finding food was never a challenge. Usually my coworkers and the KAUST admin team and I would wander over to the campus cafeteria, conveniently located about 20 feet from the computer building. It was like any college / university cafeteria, with lines for pizza, grilled things, middle eastern things, rabbit-food (salad) things, juices, desserts, etc. The few days we didn't eat there, though, we explored some of the other restaurants, like an Italian restaurant with pizza cheeses imported from Italy (quattro formaggi pizza == delicious).<br />
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I digress. The bus left KAUST every day at 5:15 and arrived back to Bay La Sun around 6 o'clock. My coworkers introduced me to some of the KAEC restaurants, all of which were delicious. The first night we ate at a steak house, which reminded me very much of an Applebees except with no liquor (they had delicious shakes, though!). Another night, we walked half a mile to eat at a restaurant right on the Red Sea and watched the sun set over the water during dinner. It was beautiful.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOnwvpKoPzx2n1B8ykECn8IPNUFM33tJv96_eg5qpNRt1UyT9qpzljjdMCrV3ADNPmcYt2WlmvN6Pp8Jb5BQuSweLXLj_Z3Tqk-4GPgK9Cj-jpf51LGsUNGfucVSJNwKtvNWs0/s1600/IMG_4593.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOnwvpKoPzx2n1B8ykECn8IPNUFM33tJv96_eg5qpNRt1UyT9qpzljjdMCrV3ADNPmcYt2WlmvN6Pp8Jb5BQuSweLXLj_Z3Tqk-4GPgK9Cj-jpf51LGsUNGfucVSJNwKtvNWs0/s640/IMG_4593.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset over the Red Sea during dinner</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib-ZsMyvR6iASOH0DZCNKsn2OkraW8W1nBBOoZGCWGDovyLO_fw8HQXiprTamnQXZH-BquHju8FHNjDBpK0BJ9LVPZQZrWyGk8TIaedIoK1x6kbHG4z6Gj4Z2kqLjeZapRb9zc/s1600/IMG_4649.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib-ZsMyvR6iASOH0DZCNKsn2OkraW8W1nBBOoZGCWGDovyLO_fw8HQXiprTamnQXZH-BquHju8FHNjDBpK0BJ9LVPZQZrWyGk8TIaedIoK1x6kbHG4z6Gj4Z2kqLjeZapRb9zc/s320/IMG_4649.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stop sign for non-existent road; Bay La Sun hotel in distance</td></tr>
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The initial phase of KAEC was built in a hurry, with much of the city remaining unconstructed. Within the walls there are vast expanses of sand, destined to become housing, shopping, I heard eventually even a stock market. Whether it was propaganda or not, I became swept up in the excitement of all the "could be"s of KAEC - it would be fascinating to come back in 20 or 50 years and see how it's grown. For now though, there are temporary walls everywhere barricading off construction zones, sidewalks that end abruptly or in heaps of rubble, and at least one stop sign facing to stop traffic on a not-yet-in-existence road. And while the city is geographically large, it seems still to have a small population (I never heard an official number, but I'm guessing single-digit thousands), so while I did see others out and about, they were few in number. Everyone I did encounter was friendly.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF97p1FsNKE_LgynZps9cDxevx-abrJGZcHz69jD4VnNwaqGVE0IKcMVrEBOv83ZFBnvOYuh4rZV8zU7FCEc7-v3-S4Qdua3A17ytkqXZWz6XAvv9GHphJiTyfq3VqPKILnBWN/s1600/IMG_4627.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF97p1FsNKE_LgynZps9cDxevx-abrJGZcHz69jD4VnNwaqGVE0IKcMVrEBOv83ZFBnvOYuh4rZV8zU7FCEc7-v3-S4Qdua3A17ytkqXZWz6XAvv9GHphJiTyfq3VqPKILnBWN/s320/IMG_4627.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unfinished sidewalk in KAEC</td></tr>
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I felt safe walking around KAEC at night, even when I was by myself. The sidewalks are well-lit by streetlights, and though there aren't many people around, there are enough that I figured if I got mugged, it wouldn't be long before someone came along. That said, I never feared for my safety, due both to the security patrols and that it was a gated city - everyone needed a legitimate reason for being there in order to get past the front gate. But the other big factor for me, was that both KAUST and KAEC are deliberately "western" (this is also one reason why they're segregated [by a large expanse of desert] from the rest of Saudi society), which meant I could worry just a little bit less about accidentally committing a social faux pas that could get me into trouble.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Knp6VpNJxj31K4cgndpzZWNujRYrrylLtOJq6SZ4qxRAfamPmJabokpuaaq9Nss_WvjMeJMrefEWuUX2oVBVSetn9NhfOSj7q_lXMQVM-dZhpmZktQ8F291I2f92yNyfAFbn/s1600/IMG_4555.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Knp6VpNJxj31K4cgndpzZWNujRYrrylLtOJq6SZ4qxRAfamPmJabokpuaaq9Nss_WvjMeJMrefEWuUX2oVBVSetn9NhfOSj7q_lXMQVM-dZhpmZktQ8F291I2f92yNyfAFbn/s320/IMG_4555.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KAEC sidewalk at night; Bay La Sun hotel in distance</td></tr>
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Ramadan started during my first week at KAUST. I had worried going into the trip whether I would be forced to fast, but that was not the case - the hotel still had 6 a.m. to midnight room service, and their normal breakfast buffet until 10 a.m. (though the buffet did move down the hallway to a secluded meeting room). The cafeteria on campus was open normal hours and people could eat inside, just not outside in public. Many of the restaurants allowed take-out, as well.<br />
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For the first day of Ramadan, I did choose to fast, to see how hard it would be. Well... I was hungry again by about 10:30 a.m., so THAT made for a long day! Nevertheless I ignored the hunger and successfully avoided food and drink (even water, because that's part of the fasting deal) until sunset, which came at about 7:10 that evening. Now in fairness, strictly speaking I did cheat - I ate my normal-time breakfast which was after sunrise, because I couldn't bring myself to wake up at 4 a.m. for the pre-sunrise meal. Deal with it, I'm still claiming credit for lasting through the day.<br />
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I broke fast that evening at the Steak House (the Applebee's-esque restaurant I mentioned) by the hotel with a chicken burger and Nutella & banana milkshake. It may not have been a traditional Ramadan experience but it sure was tasty! I don't recall which days specifically I fasted - it wasn't every day, but it was more than a few. And I definitely noticed I had a larger appetite those evenings :)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking around KAEC</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Restaurants along the Red Sea in KAEC</td></tr>
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Jet lag took some time to recover from, but by the weekend I was onto a normal sleeping schedule. I've heard that adjusting to a new timezone takes 1 day for each timezone you cross, and that was close to accurate for me: 6 days to adjust to an 8 hour difference. The first few days I was utterly exhausted, especially because I'm not used to waking up at 6 a.m. anymore, but once my body started adjusting to the early mornings, I had enough energy in the evenings to go for walks and explore. During that first weekend I took a walk at high noon to explore the town, which may have been a mistake - I definitely didn't see anyone else out and about at that time and temperature!! (they were probably looking out their windows asking "who's that crazy guy taking a walk in this heat?") Back in the hotel I took a shower and watched Netflix the rest of the day. The solitude of being in another country with no friends nearby provided me some much-needed introvert recharge time. Many people asked me whether I did much sight-seeing and exploring while I was there, but the truth is I just desperately needed time for myself away from people, and my hotel room was my sanctuary.<br />
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I guess it's not quite true that I had <em>no</em> friends around, because on the weekend evenings Alissa and I were able to have Skype calls for a bit, which was nice.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KAEC construction</td></tr>
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Going into my first weekend (the weekends are Friday & Saturday), I was on my own for a couple days, as one coworker left Thursday night and his replacement wouldn't arrive until Saturday sometime. It was of course during this Thursday night, as I was on my own, that a major issue came up that I needed to call back to the states to help solve. Good thing I got that international phone plan! (with it, calls were 50 cents/minute; without it they would have been $2.50!) We got everything fixed in short order, and I have to commend the on-call guy I talked with for his cool, calm, and collected head while I was busy panicking. Also I had fasted that day, which I'm sure didn't help my "OH MY GOODNESS EVERYTHING'S BROKEN I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FIX IT" mentality.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicq6wnD6z4RmjfLUK-OfjIu4m9THKNSx0yziyfAaP4xqnukHWuUsSN7w2Jk8QSdnF_0WkIyX-8_QLmWR9AkKfylAdMO2rRebDeedqCh5iDiNOKgxzxbrVEp0eiz23bizlDiY7m/s1600/IMG_4624.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicq6wnD6z4RmjfLUK-OfjIu4m9THKNSx0yziyfAaP4xqnukHWuUsSN7w2Jk8QSdnF_0WkIyX-8_QLmWR9AkKfylAdMO2rRebDeedqCh5iDiNOKgxzxbrVEp0eiz23bizlDiY7m/s320/IMG_4624.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reflection pond behind KAEC's Visitor's Center</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At the beginning of my second week, a new coworker arrived from the States, at which time I heard my first American accent (other than from Skyping with Alissa and my telephone calls with the on-call guy from support) since arriving. I actually found it kind of weird - KAUST is truly an international experience, and I guess I'd become acclimated to the accents. Because he was a software guy, for a couple days *I* was the hardware "expert", until another guy joined us from Australia. When I first met him, he looked tall and menacing, but turns out he's the friendliest teddy bear (or koala bear? since, you know, Australian).<br />
<br />
A cultural aspect of Saudi Arabia that I'd heard about but didn't quite believe until I saw it myself, is that almost every worker you see is a foreigner, be it construction worker, custodial / maintenance staff, grounds crew, hotel staff, cashiers, pretty much everything. As I understand it most of these workers don't live on campus at KAUST - they get bussed in each morning and bussed out each evening. During my second trip I actually talked for a few minutes with one of the grounds crew guys, and learned he was from India, where his family still lives; he is working at KAUST for 6 months before going back to them. I can't imagine being away for that long!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipfb7zNZ8nA0xpeCMCvqWwQb8om1JZjBQk6pKaJN7Mr8nUcX1a5ipb6evwAplekq8myeREhWJakcX7StjgvqWQMB7pyhNlv1ydkp6jcSZLNP9QoXe9l1eIJEQGnANnQ8nm28eQ/s1600/IMG_4603.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipfb7zNZ8nA0xpeCMCvqWwQb8om1JZjBQk6pKaJN7Mr8nUcX1a5ipb6evwAplekq8myeREhWJakcX7StjgvqWQMB7pyhNlv1ydkp6jcSZLNP9QoXe9l1eIJEQGnANnQ8nm28eQ/s320/IMG_4603.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A cake at the pastry shop on campus.<br />
(I ate many tasty treats from here...)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
During my second week, I got to have a cultural experience I was not planning: visiting the medical clinic. I'm fine, don't worry, just had an ear issue that needed looking at. The clinic was walking distance from the computer center (though it was a hot day so I was sweaty by the time I got there); and here I learned that, although English *is* the official language of KAUST, it's still not always easy to communicate in English. Trying to schedule an appointment was frustrating, as I attempted to explain "no, I'm not a KAUST resident, I don't have Saudi insurance, and the only phone number I can give you is my American phone. Yes, my American phone works here. No, seriously, that's the only phone number I have that I can give you. Why do you need my phone number anyway? Yes, I'm absolutely sure I have no other phone number I can possibly write down on your form. Here's my passport, okay thanks for the medical ID and appointment time." I suppose though it did give me a higher empathy for non-English speakers who struggle to use our American health system. (Heck, even native English speakers like me struggle while navigating the ludicrous complexities of our healthcare!)<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2YKvls9TgfkAW_3gQ69F3FG-3pOgFRYvh12PyAWModDGCYs4LTIGkzpJzvQXowrq-8717Rlo6e69uyM1hxCxn5inej4iWBtXyVqK7RCTqoDycYyjXOjLrEL0CXjslqjiAADNO/s1600/IMG_4570.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2YKvls9TgfkAW_3gQ69F3FG-3pOgFRYvh12PyAWModDGCYs4LTIGkzpJzvQXowrq-8717Rlo6e69uyM1hxCxn5inej4iWBtXyVqK7RCTqoDycYyjXOjLrEL0CXjslqjiAADNO/s320/IMG_4570.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shawarma. Yummy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In the evenings back at KAEC, we'd often go out for dinner as a group. The sales guy, who is from the Middle East, introduced me to some amazing local cuisine, and something called <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shawarma" target="_blank">shawarma</a>, which was pure deliciousness. I don't often get excited about food, but for shawarma I made an exception. He and I also had some really good talks about faith, and what it's like for him being a Christian in the Middle East.<br />
<br />
On Thursday of the second week, I checked out of the hotel at 8:30 p.m., to catch a >1 hour taxi ride to the Jeddah airport, for a 1 a.m. flight. Bluntly: the airport was stressful. I found the signs pointing to "international departures", and then stood in line for... I think at least an hour, maybe an hour and a half, before reaching the front. It's not because the line was all that long - there were maybe a couple dozen people in front of me? - it's because the ticketing folks took FOREVER. At one point, the line literally did not move for half an hour. I was terrified I would miss my flight. Oh and of course loads of people were butting in front of the line, because, you know, that's cool. The real kicker, though: once I finally reached the front, I learned from the ticketing agent that I'd been standing in the wrong line. Even though I was departing internationally, the line I <em>really</em> should have gone to was not this "international departures" line, but the special Air France line, that's tucked in between the domestic and international lines. And by "tucked" I mean "hidden". <em>Fortunately</em>, <em>that</em> line was only 1 or 2 people long, and took no time at all to check my luggage and get my ticket. Whew!!<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRptgd1lnmnq8t6xIq3Lk8Y6kwtZkUf0rlHfLdZjs11DrAwsKPGuOhvsSeKdTzU_r2UCsMVqPfQIktkcHICZOrT3rGsOwgbQURmoDQp4Ij63aU6Z-lk4Ne47tKbJvwavVuBqxv/s1600/IMG_4625.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRptgd1lnmnq8t6xIq3Lk8Y6kwtZkUf0rlHfLdZjs11DrAwsKPGuOhvsSeKdTzU_r2UCsMVqPfQIktkcHICZOrT3rGsOwgbQURmoDQp4Ij63aU6Z-lk4Ne47tKbJvwavVuBqxv/s320/IMG_4625.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A playground at KAEC</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Once I had my ticket, it took maybe another 20-30 minutes to get into and through passport control (these lines at least were orderly), another 2-3 minutes at security (the lines weren't bad at all, nothing compared to the ridiculousness of the US's TSA), and then there's a massive store you have to walk through to get to the gate waiting area. Despite my earlier panic, I got there in plenty of time. There's not much to do in the waiting area - it's pretty much just a large room with a bunch of seats, and a couple monitors that list the upcoming departures in both Arabic and English. Every few minutes an angry sounding man would announce something in Arabic (I have no idea what, but boy did he sound cranky!), alternating every other few minutes with a gentle automated male voice announcing, "Saudi Arabian Airlines announces the departure of flight 1...7...0, now boarding from gate...12". As soon as the gate number is announced, a massive line starts to form at said gate. Seeing this, and also rather paranoid still about missing my flight, I planted myself by the monitor so I would know right away when my gate was announced. Soon as I saw my gate number, I bee-lined, and got in the early part of the line. The gate agent scanned my ticket, then we proceeded down an escalator and stood in another line where the <em>armed</em> border patrols double checked everyone had an exit stamp on their passports. Outside we boarded buses, which brought us to the plane (about a 5 minute ride). At long last, we got to board, and I fell asleep.<br />
<br />
Some hours later we arrived in Paris. After deplaning, all transfers had to go through security again, and I took a bus to a different terminal where my Delta flight would board. I had a couple hours in my layover, so plenty of spare time to meander the shops, struggle to buy water (the French cashier must have thought me utterly clueless as I tried to figure out how to use the chip in my credit card for the very first time), and otherwise hurry up and wait. After two weeks in the Middle East, seeing so much blonde hair around the airport was another culture shock. On the plane ride over the Atlantic I was more or less awake, so watched <em>Dawn of the Planet of the Apes</em>, <em>The Imitation Game</em>, <em>Hunger Games 3 part 1</em>, a Ted talk, and half of <em>Super 8</em>. Then, at long last, I was back on American soil, going through immigration, being picked up by parents and Alissa, and then finally, home.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIKPu0IH0UYWhHqSbplwhptBCIh5dC-9m8kqcQn2Q2hBoltOzn7ymDGVXe0VVwW7OE4eiMkEmGs0kG-ULM9pIR3HrlXsgaNp_lcfJ-9FHL4SU4pSaR8To0RxFQjDFMymJNJAa/s1600/IMG_4642.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIKPu0IH0UYWhHqSbplwhptBCIh5dC-9m8kqcQn2Q2hBoltOzn7ymDGVXe0VVwW7OE4eiMkEmGs0kG-ULM9pIR3HrlXsgaNp_lcfJ-9FHL4SU4pSaR8To0RxFQjDFMymJNJAa/s320/IMG_4642.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots and lots of palm trees on campus</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Save for the 24-hours door-to-door travel component (and in particular the horrific lines at the Jeddah airport), my tour at KAUST was otherwise a <em>thoroughly</em> phenomenal experience. Yes, long working hours, and hot temperatures (95+ degrees every day, no clouds, no rain), but all the buildings had AC, and both KAUST and KAEC were absolutely beautiful, with palm trees everywhere and green grass and numerous reflective pools and water fountains. Exiting the computer building, I could gaze out on the Red Sea. I felt very safe the entire time, and life was <em>good</em>. As I told friends and family, I enjoyed my time and looked forward to going back again in July.<br />
<br />
Oh, and just one other side-note from trip #1: I learned upon arrival that KAUST uses almost exclusively Apple products. This helped me feel very much at home :)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0lxzVmymrhDAp9hVPINRBg7bZ0GZXj9r280WSSnefak8_0pBtfVdx9cNljXmmsKw4YlsZAzKNMyVJ2D-G5MhqniFFw1L2qVig_Mnjr8DC9bM-mDWBwcQXv42scRkiK0bhMs52/s1600/IMG_4662.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0lxzVmymrhDAp9hVPINRBg7bZ0GZXj9r280WSSnefak8_0pBtfVdx9cNljXmmsKw4YlsZAzKNMyVJ2D-G5MhqniFFw1L2qVig_Mnjr8DC9bM-mDWBwcQXv42scRkiK0bhMs52/s400/IMG_4662.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome home balloons from Mom</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<hr />
<br />
<h2>
Trip #2</h2>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDunaFAjR3taEdq90hpy59RgNA0oZfkpC-tK6pkm2W6XuoCX2CCsVYHRdTx9Dhzd8oLPoavre0aacBmvHkCHlpsIeuKeZwthDxQjTEU09zRRtf3jpsx6nDlXZImUTf9_tF5Ifw/s1600/IMG_4981.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDunaFAjR3taEdq90hpy59RgNA0oZfkpC-tK6pkm2W6XuoCX2CCsVYHRdTx9Dhzd8oLPoavre0aacBmvHkCHlpsIeuKeZwthDxQjTEU09zRRtf3jpsx6nDlXZImUTf9_tF5Ifw/s400/IMG_4981.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Let's be honest, I ate a lot of pastries from the bakery</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When I started writing this blog after my first trip, I wrote: "For all the trepidation I originally felt going into the first trip, now I find myself looking forward to going back next Friday!" I think a large part of this excitement had to do with work buying my meals every day :) KAUST and KAEC both had a lot of restaurants with very yummy food. And while I did choose to fast some days during Ramadan, I wasn't forced to, as the cafeteria stayed open during the day (it appears many of the people on-campus are non-Muslim). During my first trip, I'd also discovered the Bay La Sun hotel put on a huge buffet in the evening for the breaking of the fast. I don't have really great words for describing the experience, other than what a neat cultural experience to observe up that close.<br />
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So, two weeks after returning from KAUST the first time, I was heading back to the airport for trip #2. This time, my TSA precheck and Global Entry paperwork had all processed, allowing me to breeze through TSA and later, immigration. To my chagrin, there was no reciprocity in France for my precheck status, so there I still needed to do the full shoes-off/laptop-out routine going through Paris.<br />
<br />
Because this trip was to be three weeks long instead of two, I needed to pack a syringe of my Humira medication, which is supposed to remain refrigerated. I packed it with an ice pack, which I refilled with ice from the Delta / Air France crew, and again on the Saudia flight (since I had to dump the ice prior to going through French TSA). It ended up not being a huge hassle, though I'd prepared for contingencies including a doctor's note for TSA in case they balked at me bringing a needled medication onto the plane. In retrospect I probably over-panicked about this, because I imagine there are many, many people who have to travel on airplanes with medical needles.<br />
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During my layover in France, I found a good napping area near the gate with couches, and caught a little bit of rest. Immigration in Jeddah was still stressful but significantly less so than last time, because I knew what to expect. This time, it only took one and a half hours instead of two and a half. This efficiency improvement is due largely to my wearing a KAUST-logo shirt, because when I got near the front of the room, someone spotted the KAUST logo and asked, "you work for KAUST? Come over here, sir!" and brought me to an empty line. If you're wondering if I plan to milk that for all it's worth on my next trip, you can rest assured my answer is, "you betcha."<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD4dApR85IB1-XUMG2I-Rq8TORfWHAsraPuAuLjz8Rr90wusY8LT-YnoqqknDr2bRr5fKJclaI46BgrIjurr5tCPit3HQ0GPPLubGFfu7A8IjYFEgGm7Xo5IkMj5pQMGOgs60b/s1600/IMG_4762.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD4dApR85IB1-XUMG2I-Rq8TORfWHAsraPuAuLjz8Rr90wusY8LT-YnoqqknDr2bRr5fKJclaI46BgrIjurr5tCPit3HQ0GPPLubGFfu7A8IjYFEgGm7Xo5IkMj5pQMGOgs60b/s320/IMG_4762.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KAUST Inn II</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This trip I got to stay on the on-campus hotel, which wasn't as luxurious as Bay La Sun. Where I'd rank BLS as a 5-star, the KAUST Inn was probably 3-star. Not bad at all, just not as elegant and classy. On the plus side, though, the wifi was considerably more stable (and didn't kick you off after 3 hours), AND, most importantly, the hotel is just a 10-minute walk to the computer building and café, so I can both sleep in and work later more easily, making my work schedule a better fit to my normal routine. The hotel was also right next to the mosque, so I'd get to hear all the evening calls to prayer. I made a couple recordings so I'd have them to listen to back home.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphCFCmIl7zYKzCsTNYoCzx41lSFoCFqXjZeA38FgP79-rU70YVD-HU05XpbJ45_GJjhqbuXHnwsGWy6uCXOVbT2T-nJ7j08duCNqbjKW4-Myx_4NV-EqJKpqopuQYNI9xEjNY/s1600/IMG_4760.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphCFCmIl7zYKzCsTNYoCzx41lSFoCFqXjZeA38FgP79-rU70YVD-HU05XpbJ45_GJjhqbuXHnwsGWy6uCXOVbT2T-nJ7j08duCNqbjKW4-Myx_4NV-EqJKpqopuQYNI9xEjNY/s320/IMG_4760.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KAUST academic buildings, from underneath</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
During this trip, I took a lot of walks in the evenings to explore, and I still haven't seen all of campus. KAUST is huge. It's its own city, with their own clinic, movie theatre, a dozen restaurants, multiple mosques, and recreation centers/gyms. Huge. In the residential areas, the houses look cookie-cutter identical. There are lots of mini-parks with small playgrounds. Not a lot of people around though, due to Ramadan and the following week-long Eid holiday.<br />
<br />
I did a lot of reading between my walks and time at the hotel: I finished a couple audiobooks, and even one paperback. I kept intending to read my Koran (that had been gifted to me a few years back by my optometrist), but never ended up making the time for it. I also made time to focus on my faith, listening to worship music while I walked and being intentional about prayer - the frequent calls to prayer definitely helped in this regard. On the final day of Ramadan, I had fasted, and went to the mosque to join others in breaking fast with dates, water, and meat (I think it was chicken? but I don't remember for sure now).<br />
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<div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRPl2WHmmDVDVGgR7q20XgkQeHzv4C04nUCGA-NGAuqFB_wpWIeG21SWd_1Ea_DHfKVigt5klJxknE8iiLeYi6lIWaGfPZVPG4bvw6EEWVhNyMUIBm8LAuNdOmOHEVNHEhTfB9/s1600/IMG_4756.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRPl2WHmmDVDVGgR7q20XgkQeHzv4C04nUCGA-NGAuqFB_wpWIeG21SWd_1Ea_DHfKVigt5klJxknE8iiLeYi6lIWaGfPZVPG4bvw6EEWVhNyMUIBm8LAuNdOmOHEVNHEhTfB9/s320/IMG_4756.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
I took time to notice when I'd talk with a follower of Islam how peaceful and calming their voices were, and oftentimes how harsh or blunt my voice sounded in comparison. I wonder what my own faith, and sense of inner peace, would look like if I prayed diligently throughout the day like my Muslim brothers and sisters. I wonder what it would look like for me to "fast" from some of the distractions that pull me away from God, that keep me from spending a few minutes here and there during the day to pause and pray.<br />
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At the time of this trip, I was involved in the Prayer Team at Upper Room, and I wrote this email to share with them:<br />
<blockquote style="font-size: 1em;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiadqfBs4-KuraTlJRU4zjXce-9NDDQfLPYzrywzhNYzVYhh7W0Qk_6-T3hcYZ7qVDbDKMg1e43rvFqFv43CHtC84L_Mw9dZ3Q3dgEaUrAtro5RG_cuOpXdvQAp989-CTYPaFod/s1600/IMG_4764.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiadqfBs4-KuraTlJRU4zjXce-9NDDQfLPYzrywzhNYzVYhh7W0Qk_6-T3hcYZ7qVDbDKMg1e43rvFqFv43CHtC84L_Mw9dZ3Q3dgEaUrAtro5RG_cuOpXdvQAp989-CTYPaFod/s320/IMG_4764.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KAUST mosque</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Ramadan ends this week, and for me anyway, it's exciting to be here (in Saudi Arabia again) during this time. Yesterday I was researching some of the terms used around the Muslim pilgrimages (what's the difference between Umrah and Hajj, what is a state of Ihram, where exactly are the Miqats, and so on), and I stumbled upon a blog post written by a Muslim woman about her and her husband's Umrah pilgrimage. Growing up in a Christian family and Christian community, I've had extremely limited (read: none) exposure to conversations about faith with members of Islam. Though I guess I haven't really extended myself to help make those conversations possible, either. So what I read in this woman's post was not only fascinating, it also made me tear up a little bit. Maybe this has no interest to you at all, and that's fine, too. But I wanted to copy part of what she wrote here, that had struck me so:<br />
<br />
"Prior to checking out of our hotel earlier that day, we started assuming our Ihram. We showered, changed into our Umrah clothes and offered the two raka’at nafl prayer before setting out. I wore my new abaya, but there wasn’t anything unusual about my appearance. Masood, however, came out wearing his two-piece white, unhemmed sheets (more or less like towel material), feeling slightly awkward managing the lower garment. I looked at him for the longest time – my husband, the man who gave me nothing but happiness and love, stood before me ready to fulfill his obligation to Allah. I uttered a prayer for him, in my heart, right then and there."<br />
<br />
( Citation: <a href="https://thepurplejournal.wordpress.com/2009/05/06/umrah-part-5-miqat-the-point-where-it-all-starts/" target="_blank">https://thepurplejournal.wordpress.com/2009/05/06/umrah-part-5-miqat-the-point-where-it-all-starts/</a> )<br />
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Setting aside religional/theological differences, because they're not relevant to this conversation: to me, the marriage of one's love for God and one's love for his/her spouse doesn't get much more beautiful than that.
</blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrERhc5nLcIxFcP4o_LdVIFjMupzaABoZ1Xg6ztxtDb1bMXbWiJ_0gkYNmSNw_tdA04g5oS0VH2_mFexRVq9Wb6oNABr6pV-8vCT1AyUhSK-rDBcQKbEMaq0EXU6f1H1gNA2uu/s1600/IMG_4921.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrERhc5nLcIxFcP4o_LdVIFjMupzaABoZ1Xg6ztxtDb1bMXbWiJ_0gkYNmSNw_tdA04g5oS0VH2_mFexRVq9Wb6oNABr6pV-8vCT1AyUhSK-rDBcQKbEMaq0EXU6f1H1gNA2uu/s320/IMG_4921.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cell tower disguised as a palm tree</td></tr>
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My middle week during this trip was the week-long holiday of Eid, and pretty much everyone was out of town. My fellow Cray coworker and I were the only folks in the computer building, other than the security guard. So it was a calm, non-stressful week!<br />
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Coming to the end of my trip, I wrote this email to my Upper Room Prayer Team friends:<br />
<blockquote style="font-size: 1em;">
I finish my second tour in Saudi Arabia tomorrow (been here three weeks now). While it's been a wonderful and life-giving experience, I'll be honest: I'm home-sick and looking forward to being back.<br />
<br />
Until two weeks ago I'd never been in a mosque; on the last day of Ramadan, though, I got to break fast with hundreds of strangers at the mosque. Then last Friday I attended the mosque service with some of my Muslim coworkers. I enjoyed the cultural experience and learning more about how others worship God, but it also made me miss the worship experience of Upper Room, and I realized just how hard it's been being away from Christian community.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97yhtExCUwV9L3cLihb4IaL3IVX22aT1mkt6s6-2thOem937q6waf7fzJOx6fGinNMtvF5x0UBuCNd803LUycOe5UlVWrv7Q4I6opz3cZAQJlijRE_BdVo8zYkYugEB-qlRqp/s1600/IMG_4838.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97yhtExCUwV9L3cLihb4IaL3IVX22aT1mkt6s6-2thOem937q6waf7fzJOx6fGinNMtvF5x0UBuCNd803LUycOe5UlVWrv7Q4I6opz3cZAQJlijRE_BdVo8zYkYugEB-qlRqp/s200/IMG_4838.jpeg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Speed limit</td></tr>
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At the same time that away-ness has made me value my alone time with God even more. To help facilitate this one-on-one time, and inspired by how diligently Muslims pray thoughout the day, I downloaded an app to send me notifications before each prayer time; for the past couple weeks I've been taking a pause at each Call to Prayer, to step outside, quiet my mind, and try to listen to the Spirit's nudging in my prayers. I think it goes along well with Paul's "pray without ceasing" mandate. Oftentimes the prayer times are inconvenient, like in the middle of writing an email, or a stressful "everything is broken" moment at work, yet I think that makes it all the more important to say, "my time is Yours, God." I worry it'll be hard to keep that up once I'm back in Corporate America.</blockquote>
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As I prepared to depart, I scribbled a note about all the lines I'd be standing in. I don't know if I did this because I needed to psych myself up to prepare for all the frustration, or because I wanted to vent said frustration, or for posterity, or... let's assume it was all three. Here's what I wrote:<br />
<blockquote style="font-size: 1em;">
Flying home from KAUST and that means today is a "line" day. Here are all the lines I stood in or will stand in in a 24 hour period:<br />
- check in at Jeddah airport<br />
- access to passport control<br />
- passport control itself<br />
- airport security in Jeddah<br />
- wait to have boarding pass scanned and then go down the escalator to get to bus<br />
- boarding the bus<br />
- off the bus and board the airplane<br />
- deplane<br />
- passport control into Paris airport (CDG) once deplaned<br />
- French immigration because my bag wasn't checked all the way through<br />
(Wander around and not know where I'm going in Charles de Gaulle)<br />
- Delta self-check-in to print boarding pass<br />
- Baggage drop<br />
- French passport control<br />
- French airport security<br />
- airplane boarding check in<br />
- airplane boarding itself<br />
- deplaning<br />
- US immigration<br />
- baggage claim<br />
<br />
And then finally I shall be home!</blockquote>
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Reading that now (years later), and knowing how much I HATE lines, I'm amazed I didn't go cray-cray. (pun intended). Well, anyway, I made it home, safe and sound and tired! (Just as a reminder: it's 24 hours door-to-door travel time!)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_cCxOs6CLHjSiDsq2FikTBToWLs-RKf8awx3eQYn8AxyoYot-F18UpFU9msUMFe2pzW7ZD08F6ipSD77AIl8vDkmTZ4evzzmeKtPAT_sk-lKGQfs6p5vHNG2TABET548m3z0Y/s1600/IMG_4826.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_cCxOs6CLHjSiDsq2FikTBToWLs-RKf8awx3eQYn8AxyoYot-F18UpFU9msUMFe2pzW7ZD08F6ipSD77AIl8vDkmTZ4evzzmeKtPAT_sk-lKGQfs6p5vHNG2TABET548m3z0Y/s320/IMG_4826.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stairs at KAUST between the main buildings</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig_b6-lbqPEW5puuC2UszupJGNiatQCUT7KZQu7GnvZRdCAl8A4hmftb3kGuuqmFoFPfMPVRWjGKZmWPKgZrsNW5s4BuT4zbWvL7vZLDJzeHujDxIQW5-cpWw25WNu0sIh6wXz/s1600/IMG_5053.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig_b6-lbqPEW5puuC2UszupJGNiatQCUT7KZQu7GnvZRdCAl8A4hmftb3kGuuqmFoFPfMPVRWjGKZmWPKgZrsNW5s4BuT4zbWvL7vZLDJzeHujDxIQW5-cpWw25WNu0sIh6wXz/s400/IMG_5053.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camels at the JED airport</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim036LNZOaeOqTYL17gOEwerL77N5bzhA7VNeZ_KzHCi2Yp9zpp-_MLTaLbK9M6wY0OUVF3ZUQNHgCkE8_ae4ekVdhTHjaiM50f3N6ug76tat7YHRuPNxd3alXDl9WgnjFytl7/s1600/IMG_5061.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim036LNZOaeOqTYL17gOEwerL77N5bzhA7VNeZ_KzHCi2Yp9zpp-_MLTaLbK9M6wY0OUVF3ZUQNHgCkE8_ae4ekVdhTHjaiM50f3N6ug76tat7YHRuPNxd3alXDl9WgnjFytl7/s400/IMG_5061.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome home fruit basket and flowers from my Mom</td></tr>
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<br />
<h2>
Trip #3</h2>
<br />
Because apparently two trips wasn't enough, when the opportunity arose to volunteer again, I did.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEDgt9vE1X4fQ6WC5jwEWU0k8ojJRSeeY5DERXan-WCFuw3JznV9haHdb8qLhuGhMjaroWy1LRPkY9GRDyHGoKshlNzEoCNPdaCS5MFA2Kb86-xiqcH5AN2yYt3wPOsLJbkZzR/s1600/IMG_5311.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEDgt9vE1X4fQ6WC5jwEWU0k8ojJRSeeY5DERXan-WCFuw3JznV9haHdb8qLhuGhMjaroWy1LRPkY9GRDyHGoKshlNzEoCNPdaCS5MFA2Kb86-xiqcH5AN2yYt3wPOsLJbkZzR/s400/IMG_5311.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost an entire row to myself</td></tr>
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The flight from Paris to Jeddah had a short layover in Medina, because it was almost Eid. A quick cultural side-bar: there are two weeklong Eid holidays, one comes at the end of Ramadan, the other is about a month later, and that's the "big one" when Muslims make pilgrimage to Mecca ("Hajj"); as I understand it, Medina is one of the starting points for the Hajj, so almost everyone on our flight deplaned there. This left me with an entire row (almost literally all the way across the plane) to myself.<br />
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We lifted off from Medina at 18:39, and I thought that meant we'd land early at Jeddah (only an hour away). Well... spoiler: that didn't happen, and I had yet another new air travel experience :) There was a sandstorm at the Jeddah airport, so our plane turned around mid-flight and landed back in Medina (18:59). We waited out the bad weather, and took off again about 20:10, landing in Jeddah an hour later.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCUZdwhhH8zqRD6o5rJbWxjmlZiMShOsVnTRYdW2Kdks8-6wCkMa22agVslGWuqcHelrCwhqw_3Xo2M-9FdAO_QV_r3TQMI1uUY40zHtxnH4Qu1mVor-Sjg4wy4QBUrV_vxYE/s1600/IMG_5312.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCUZdwhhH8zqRD6o5rJbWxjmlZiMShOsVnTRYdW2Kdks8-6wCkMa22agVslGWuqcHelrCwhqw_3Xo2M-9FdAO_QV_r3TQMI1uUY40zHtxnH4Qu1mVor-Sjg4wy4QBUrV_vxYE/s400/IMG_5312.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nearly empty plane after pilgrims disembarked</td></tr>
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If you'll recall, last time through immigration I came up with a plan to cheat the system by the clever wearing of a KAUST polo shirt (this is where Alissa will call me "entitled," but so-be-it). During my Parisian layover I changed into my KAUST shirt, and when I got to Jeddah I asked a traffic director if there was a special line for KAUST; he took one look at my shirt, and then far exceeded my hopes by bumping me into a special line with only three people!! Minutes later, I excitedly scribbled a note saying "21:39: Already through immigration!!!!" In fact, I got through SO fast that I had to WAIT half an hour for my luggage to come on the conveyor. By 22:15 I was in the taxi.<br />
<br />
On our way to KAUST, I learned from the driver about the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mecca_crane_collapse" target="_blank">tragic crane collapse in Mecca</a> that had just happened. I wrote this note at the time:<br />
<blockquote style="font-size: 1em;">
My flight into Saudi Arabia was delayed due to a sandstorm with near-zero visibility at the Jeddah airport; when I got into my taxi later, I learned that the storm had rolled through Mecca (a little more than an hour's drive from Jeddah) only a few hours earlier, toppling a crane that killed over 100 people at the Grand Mosque. It's so sad. I haven't been able to tell from the news reports, but with Hajj starting in a week, I have to wonder if most of those people were pilgrims, coming to Mecca from all around the world for their once-in-a-lifetime pilgrimage. While my life was delayed for an hour and a half because of the storm, the lives of those 107 families were changed forever and unalterably.</blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AFsgKXKTDPy3BXs5pNqKjI3bcjpS2KcCe5NdKRmQ35VmdaQ1MlhXDI-8_Y6FjjE7FsZNR8g4kc85JMNRGdCBmNTgDjy4JkImlV-vsHz_3E-_RPdz9yE3N0zpq0-7BLxPR9LP/s1600/IMG_5318.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AFsgKXKTDPy3BXs5pNqKjI3bcjpS2KcCe5NdKRmQ35VmdaQ1MlhXDI-8_Y6FjjE7FsZNR8g4kc85JMNRGdCBmNTgDjy4JkImlV-vsHz_3E-_RPdz9yE3N0zpq0-7BLxPR9LP/s320/IMG_5318.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Living room portion of hotel room</td></tr>
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I arrived at campus at 23:05, and by 23:30 I was in my hotel room in the KAUST Inn 2, almost exactly 24 hours door-to-door from when I'd left. This time, at least, though, I'd been smart enough to fly out a day early, so I had a recovery day in between flying and having to go to work on Sunday. I unpacked, fell asleep, and... slept in until 1:30 p.m. ... oops. Upon waking, I experienced the 3-star vs 5-star difference of the KAUST Inn vs the Bay La Sun, as I found water leaking in the bathroom from the shower in the room above mine; also the bedroom thermostat stopped working. On the other hand, I got the larger room I'd requested and hoped for (after learning about it from other coworkers), with both a living room/office and a bedroom, and a sliding door that steps out right to the main campus mosque. So, not bad, over all. I went grocery shopping on campus to get some snacks, showered, and then logged into work to finish up a project.<br />
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One of the downsides of the time difference between Saudi Arabia and Minnesota (7-8 hours depending on daylight savings) was that everyone back home was coming into work right about the time I would be leaving work at KAUST. This meant I ended up staying logged into work and emails from the hotel room long past normal quitting time, leading to an almost 60-hour workweek my first week of this trip. I forced myself to find a better balance the second week, taking time to go for walks and also to the workout center on campus. (yes Alissa, I actually forced myself to work out! :)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8cFyKwq0-KEu4EnUf1ahONq6ZSqwNYueKDeXPsVeCW1E1DG4SXvfmLsUF0W5HDtJP7MIN7bVPua79on1GEXiO8iyKek5D-yq2e50jnt5dslQJ1aIKv_LqlcYBL1wBhGnLfO9/s1600/IMG_5514.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8cFyKwq0-KEu4EnUf1ahONq6ZSqwNYueKDeXPsVeCW1E1DG4SXvfmLsUF0W5HDtJP7MIN7bVPua79on1GEXiO8iyKek5D-yq2e50jnt5dslQJ1aIKv_LqlcYBL1wBhGnLfO9/s400/IMG_5514.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The opposite of working out: Burger King for dinner</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheln2-Fh4XIQfxkiUPytQGYUvMT_WR57WxIwb3tj4L5cYfO7QlsWyE6xGIY3PqeRXupX2I_Ga7hhdFU36P3Zx3tMjaSFcOltx0-_LqzLwoFuI7XZBm46YQbJwyAoPCK37bIJ9a/s1600/IMG_5515.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheln2-Fh4XIQfxkiUPytQGYUvMT_WR57WxIwb3tj4L5cYfO7QlsWyE6xGIY3PqeRXupX2I_Ga7hhdFU36P3Zx3tMjaSFcOltx0-_LqzLwoFuI7XZBm46YQbJwyAoPCK37bIJ9a/s400/IMG_5515.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Do not adjust your television. This burger bun was actually green!</td></tr>
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On Friday of that first week, I attended the 12:30 mosque service with one of the KAUST computer scientists, Saber, whom I'd gotten to know. What a cool experience. The sermon was in Arabic, but Saber gave me a quick translation afterward. He guided me through the prayers, standing / kneeling / prostrating / back up again, and helped me feel a sense of belonging in this new-to-me environment. I learned that the following Wednesday, the day before Eid, was an optional day of fasting, which he said brings forgiveness of last year's sins and those of the coming year. While I believe my sins are already forgiven as part of my spiritual journey with Jesus, I decided as a spiritual exercise that it'd be worthwhile to try fasting again, and also so that Saber and I could break fast together that evening. Unfortunately he ended up getting sick that day so we couldn't get together, but it was still a good exercise for me; in particular, I learned it's REALLY hard for me to focus when I'm hungry, and that's a good lesson for identifying with so many people in our cities who are constantly suffering from hunger.<br />
<br />
Side-bar: that Wednesday, one of Alissa's students told her he was fasting, and was wow'ed when she asked him if it was for Eid :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7NzIlnTGPDtRlswp61-Y4yBjPNi-66yUtxthPWXJhu3YL0kOSp4oX_Ujg9VHolvlEvvl4iDdGDLT-nDPh4djmXfg0BGxJdbYWU-b_zJYdVdbABnl6fvefw3LAFX-z9thyphenhyphenT_L1/s1600/IMG_5570.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7NzIlnTGPDtRlswp61-Y4yBjPNi-66yUtxthPWXJhu3YL0kOSp4oX_Ujg9VHolvlEvvl4iDdGDLT-nDPh4djmXfg0BGxJdbYWU-b_zJYdVdbABnl6fvefw3LAFX-z9thyphenhyphenT_L1/s400/IMG_5570.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nighttime of the mosque from my hotel room</td></tr>
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Thursday morning I woke up super early for the mosque service at 6:30, and met up with Saber and another of our coworkers, Rooh. Normally the mosque is very quiet when people enter, but this time it was noisy - many were chanting "Allāhu akbar" (God is the greatest), and a group of kids had found the microphone in front and were leading the assembly in the chant. The order of service was also different than normal, with prayers coming first this time followed by a 15-minute sermon; this is either <em>the</em> or "one of the" most holy days in Islam, so it was very special to be able to worship with my friends, and very hard to say goodbye afterward, since at this point I didn't have any additional travel plans to come back.<br />
<br />
I had breakfast at the cafe and finally tried the carrot juice. That afternoon I packed, napped, then left the hotel around 8 or 9 p.m. for my 1 a.m. flight. The only notes I have from my return voyage are that TSA sucks in all countries. Presumably because this was my third flight to/from Saudi in only a few months, I got flagged for special screening in Paris. Now, mind you, at this point I've already gone through both Saudi and French security, had my passport checked multiple times and I have Global Entry... all of which apparently count for diddly, as the french TSA rip apart my carry-on suitcase (and fails to understand why I'm frustrated). Meantime, the line piles up behind us. Well, their own fault.<br />
<br />
Typical 24 hours door-to-door, and I'm home!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkKmd4ofxjaCeXTQZHD3S-C2RtpnfU1_3QmBtBYqz-5Gg-Gtu7S3iu614IO6NxsOHEGlchNPZ7kSduVBFXDlL-GGgDULWJs_LV_VGFnDddeg9MaMcfiUuC2MOGsaneBrjC87tv/s1600/IMG_5336.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkKmd4ofxjaCeXTQZHD3S-C2RtpnfU1_3QmBtBYqz-5Gg-Gtu7S3iu614IO6NxsOHEGlchNPZ7kSduVBFXDlL-GGgDULWJs_LV_VGFnDddeg9MaMcfiUuC2MOGsaneBrjC87tv/s400/IMG_5336.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I took intentional time this trip to photograph the plants at KAUST. There are so many!<br />
Check out the full album here: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10100109832492005.1073741840.40400401&type=1&l=18127c19ef" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?<br />set=a.10100109832492005.1073741840.40400401&type=1&l=18127c19ef</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvzHgo8BbKKjMYhRMuTE6z1WfbYTwfUCq1jxHVQG5WZhG5oNL_K6Yf99N-9hIKjw0FmIKdr7vfSCYmstTkRbwP-G9EavESGyoF_kxGDgcoFDNNFHicqorBlRjuHwSSjodPeq-Q/s1600/IMG_5440.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvzHgo8BbKKjMYhRMuTE6z1WfbYTwfUCq1jxHVQG5WZhG5oNL_K6Yf99N-9hIKjw0FmIKdr7vfSCYmstTkRbwP-G9EavESGyoF_kxGDgcoFDNNFHicqorBlRjuHwSSjodPeq-Q/s400/IMG_5440.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KAUST fitness center</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN7qJlJ-ljDtxoUfQ9HaSjMvy340jxgJOTthF8p3btSHnnU36x6jtew2XTeWhP-imc2uVjUDJmMp8ILRnH-vYitYgERb1DIZ_YQuuaqR1V3ZeQYwZveK8kazCfZmczINRwp0_E/s1600/IMG_5453.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN7qJlJ-ljDtxoUfQ9HaSjMvy340jxgJOTthF8p3btSHnnU36x6jtew2XTeWhP-imc2uVjUDJmMp8ILRnH-vYitYgERb1DIZ_YQuuaqR1V3ZeQYwZveK8kazCfZmczINRwp0_E/s400/IMG_5453.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They must spend a mint on watering</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdHW-UlD6Kal-fPzLvPPeSFUorHLDIX28nuMKwa1IzNJcjmFxuizrIuNXRY310yPtyT1FWAsOdsk0T2CZkMVZV10twHcMjium-lMO2s_NZxOXDf0tsBBE8xUTX70Ho2vqEtrC7/s1600/IMG_5466.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdHW-UlD6Kal-fPzLvPPeSFUorHLDIX28nuMKwa1IzNJcjmFxuizrIuNXRY310yPtyT1FWAsOdsk0T2CZkMVZV10twHcMjium-lMO2s_NZxOXDf0tsBBE8xUTX70Ho2vqEtrC7/s400/IMG_5466.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KAUST main academic buildings, at sunset</td></tr>
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<h2>
Trip #4</h2>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltmwT6IxDA0Eq188dPXociOaOcHhyphenhyphenJbYBRZje8weMadLGcZdE328MlXhUlkAk7_Iw06v07MqlswvVLC0TMiWGzChHWuiwC4gFQcoyAvscusydLhx0IEvTJSW915ZNT_y6SCpF/s1600/IMG_6800.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltmwT6IxDA0Eq188dPXociOaOcHhyphenhyphenJbYBRZje8weMadLGcZdE328MlXhUlkAk7_Iw06v07MqlswvVLC0TMiWGzChHWuiwC4gFQcoyAvscusydLhx0IEvTJSW915ZNT_y6SCpF/s400/IMG_6800.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not used to my food staring at me while I eat</td></tr>
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At the end of January 2016 I got one final opportunity to visit KAUST, this time only for one week (aka, just enough time to un-jet-lag, then turn around and go home and get re-jet-lagged :). I stayed at Bay La Sun in KAEC this time, and pretty much my only notes from this trip are all meal-related, so I guess I really enjoyed the food this trip! Meals included: an Italian buffet on Friday night, a chicken salad at the [Applebees-esque] steakhouse Saturday night, a shawarma buffet Sunday night, and an Indian buffet Monday night, including an Indian dessert buffet, which I noted was "very yummy." One day during the week, my KAUST coworkers took me into the local town, Thuwal, to dine at a fish restaurant for lunch; we got there in time to place our order before they closed for Dhuhr prayer, then we went to a nearby beach to walk along a boardwalk while we waited. Upon returning to the restaurant, we were seated on a carpeted area, removed our shoes, and reclined against some pillows, as the cooked fishes with heads still attached were brought out to us. While eating with my hands wasn't a new experience (having been to India during my college years), the fish eyes staring back at me while I ate was new.<br />
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Another fascinating cultural experience came in conversation with my Saudi coworker when I used the word "girlfriend" and he had no idea what the word meant; I fumbled through my best explanation as to what "dating" is in American culture. It makes sense that he'd have had no context - in his family, he mentioned his father had four wives, and I guess I don't remember if he also had an arranged marriage, but certainly the typical path of what leads into marriage is vastly different between our cultures. In retrospect, I wish I'd asked more questions and learned more.<br />
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Back at KAEC, I spent more time wandering around this trip, and in particular enjoyed walking through the newly opened Juman Park, adjacent to the Bay La Sun hotel, which had been under construction still when I was last here.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZDYZCBSDtNaHpSQ3JmhHjgQsa5OaGnvWa8IrG57rSxnHknNwlVbhwaXdIbG4NsrDmZ1ogD1bEeFIj2u74EauXJLhV71yiZqMIaN45JVobtTKmScKcxgK4CkAsvP5SBLFscUUP/s1600/IMG_6607.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZDYZCBSDtNaHpSQ3JmhHjgQsa5OaGnvWa8IrG57rSxnHknNwlVbhwaXdIbG4NsrDmZ1ogD1bEeFIj2u74EauXJLhV71yiZqMIaN45JVobtTKmScKcxgK4CkAsvP5SBLFscUUP/s640/IMG_6607.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwZOvM4GYyGds1ca4esKUHfBr8YFILyDqjxmRTw9G3YQ_vlOzj7_hyphenhyphenq9aXIDYqNIYucKCBKhvDne6HFdAlFiwTf1jFDP-BegHFjJtPAWWfyvQ70cg320mirtvyXHNTmKTYRvj/s1600/IMG_6737.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwZOvM4GYyGds1ca4esKUHfBr8YFILyDqjxmRTw9G3YQ_vlOzj7_hyphenhyphenq9aXIDYqNIYucKCBKhvDne6HFdAlFiwTf1jFDP-BegHFjJtPAWWfyvQ70cg320mirtvyXHNTmKTYRvj/s320/IMG_6737.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miniature model of KAEC.<br />
Bay La Sun hotel is just left of the center of this photo.</td></tr>
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During one of my last evenings at KAEC, I realized I'd never visited the inside of the Visitor's Center, so I decided to check that out. Inside, there was a miniature 3D model map of what KAEC will eventually grow to be. I love tiny model things, so this was an absolute delight. After wandering around the building and reading some of the posters, I headed for the exit, and was confronted by an angry guard who said the building was closed. Apparently it closed at like 4:30 (and this was something like 6 o'clock now), and I was supposed to have known that despite there not being any signs and the door being open. Oh well, I'd already finished exploring so I just skedaddled and went to dinner.<br />
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My last day at KAUST there was a minor sandstorm on campus, which was another new experience for me. It wasn't bad, though, and passed by the time we got back from lunch. That day, we all went to the fancy golf course restaurant (yes, believe it or not, KAUST has a full golf course on campus!), and I was so grateful to get to spend the time with a group of people I'd come to think of as friends, even though we live half a world apart. Returning to KAUST this trip was, in a sense, like coming back to a second home, and so leaving it again was correspondingly emotionally difficult.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij9i8g1aAYC7VK96kdR7aqaXAqmU39bcIXwnuWzmz440ILqv3RylXaOFNOFMNZgm9q8iDwuFVLAFnkO4h6fvTgn1A3JAEueMMYyFC5YeOCoA89ssfwDUpRH_sJyHFueANeiENO/s1600/IMG_6602.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij9i8g1aAYC7VK96kdR7aqaXAqmU39bcIXwnuWzmz440ILqv3RylXaOFNOFMNZgm9q8iDwuFVLAFnkO4h6fvTgn1A3JAEueMMYyFC5YeOCoA89ssfwDUpRH_sJyHFueANeiENO/s200/IMG_6602.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
When I last stayed at Bay La Sun (during my first trip), there had been a shuttle bus that ran to/from KAUST once in the morning and evening. I'm not sure I quite understood correctly, but I was told the driver's visa expired since then and he went back to his home country, and the hotel never hired a replacement, so there was no longer a shuttle. So, I took a private taxi each day. My final day, when coming back to Bay La Sun, my driver had never been to the hotel so to my amusement *I* became the local expert directing him through the KAEC streets!<br />
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The only other note I have from trip #4 is that I watched a couple movies on the flight home: The Good Dinosaur, and The Martian. Now for a few more pictures:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Gyhrhbu_3BiXSU4xHJCP2jc_Cs4-DBLvzuDfBFbXVbeSbQP_BK_gsKyfmMzMSKpuAtd4DH4gRlNYd2DByoS7x5aFuP7U41HYbI8C0WdYVz0oFNd4ivRkNRc0dsYFSI3UkXGw/s1600/IMG_6579.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Gyhrhbu_3BiXSU4xHJCP2jc_Cs4-DBLvzuDfBFbXVbeSbQP_BK_gsKyfmMzMSKpuAtd4DH4gRlNYd2DByoS7x5aFuP7U41HYbI8C0WdYVz0oFNd4ivRkNRc0dsYFSI3UkXGw/s400/IMG_6579.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On approach to CDG airport in Paris</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXNseXyPJ9fQEti9ql8NONlfrQIjAtRfYPJrpJ7Pxg8coVYEFMvUk2e-3_RlTbf43Q50qnwOs_Z4IAypcsx8lHTGHUbUbY_ONnQyiFWUtgiT_gn0g0IWCPmVDuxbDFapABNmU/s1600/IMG_6585.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXNseXyPJ9fQEti9ql8NONlfrQIjAtRfYPJrpJ7Pxg8coVYEFMvUk2e-3_RlTbf43Q50qnwOs_Z4IAypcsx8lHTGHUbUbY_ONnQyiFWUtgiT_gn0g0IWCPmVDuxbDFapABNmU/s400/IMG_6585.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Had an entire row to myself from Paris to Jeddah!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcBqDByljfmHXB6khkEPJ65ApJ-WK9uwsZOFqfrVnvaZ2zofX8H22upv4j2Ot7NT7b_hR4XDrW3EZIzCkGvBn4ZFQcfDHhZJAWQx7xwLcmSOlnodoSyLo9jiVcZH2ivVyhoYX/s1600/IMG_6599.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcBqDByljfmHXB6khkEPJ65ApJ-WK9uwsZOFqfrVnvaZ2zofX8H22upv4j2Ot7NT7b_hR4XDrW3EZIzCkGvBn4ZFQcfDHhZJAWQx7xwLcmSOlnodoSyLo9jiVcZH2ivVyhoYX/s400/IMG_6599.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apple juice at Bay La Sun reception while they got me checked in.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW37lFC1iOrwrrH_sjuhD6Y1iBQ5dUbJH2qc5VMduHfbdwVrQtdyHJmBCgbfiTQMS2NsgV80BGOkkn-sOJc5jcXO4zXMf5oYN7WmB9nYgyaPR3WFKf99Q1I6Oedqwy6tW2zJL0/s1600/IMG_6744.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW37lFC1iOrwrrH_sjuhD6Y1iBQ5dUbJH2qc5VMduHfbdwVrQtdyHJmBCgbfiTQMS2NsgV80BGOkkn-sOJc5jcXO4zXMf5oYN7WmB9nYgyaPR3WFKf99Q1I6Oedqwy6tW2zJL0/s640/IMG_6744.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wider view of KAEC miniature map. I added a red arrow pointing at Bay La Sun, for context.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JqPKC2aXcxWVcHlIj-4aLjSZSgs-leHbFxIgVIF_Ttpy21SMaDeeqodhdB3uHe3Hlcml-tT_6AHXmsx36tKtV7Np1VRmI_vj3dp1jkiAKWawSWUHYyu4ZJcz-8bGKyJyVI1W/s1600/IMG_6783.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JqPKC2aXcxWVcHlIj-4aLjSZSgs-leHbFxIgVIF_Ttpy21SMaDeeqodhdB3uHe3Hlcml-tT_6AHXmsx36tKtV7Np1VRmI_vj3dp1jkiAKWawSWUHYyu4ZJcz-8bGKyJyVI1W/s640/IMG_6783.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my Saudi coworkers and friends</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidNTKST6yFNBH3A4Gv-nrCn0oLQW8eqUpXxDSC51-Vfp0DssimPLzE1uNJR2WAJYaV-xthZoV40MuhsmRgKnWRqAXLx7D1UWDqiDbASWilglOKIWtL1nDCsj7UP3O3_CKAZwDx/s1600/IMG_6785.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidNTKST6yFNBH3A4Gv-nrCn0oLQW8eqUpXxDSC51-Vfp0DssimPLzE1uNJR2WAJYaV-xthZoV40MuhsmRgKnWRqAXLx7D1UWDqiDbASWilglOKIWtL1nDCsj7UP3O3_CKAZwDx/s400/IMG_6785.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not used to this.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ot_dDNuHSKxYN0w-Yc0aaBNKjjY2jvolshtDjH1bnoFX0RBnOhFHK4BQQmZdouIOEBAauJewdHS5ixdoHMwTpPIXkK9vUiUtGcJcZO3mvjZp9tXK4U66vHPpFXudw3Uagmeu/s1600/IMG_6792.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ot_dDNuHSKxYN0w-Yc0aaBNKjjY2jvolshtDjH1bnoFX0RBnOhFHK4BQQmZdouIOEBAauJewdHS5ixdoHMwTpPIXkK9vUiUtGcJcZO3mvjZp9tXK4U66vHPpFXudw3Uagmeu/s400/IMG_6792.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thuwal beach while we waited for our fish to be cooked</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2teTFnc3YJBAgs4XOeKtu-XAGABRdKFEiFXWUiSG9mITcmuyG8Far03M-1oFfjt-THDDKJRiFztNcfG1T9Al1yRk5LTAq93humbLUOcvkGzz2djoTnbh1YW_iQ5k8WP3JgRu/s1600/IMG_6796.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2teTFnc3YJBAgs4XOeKtu-XAGABRdKFEiFXWUiSG9mITcmuyG8Far03M-1oFfjt-THDDKJRiFztNcfG1T9Al1yRk5LTAq93humbLUOcvkGzz2djoTnbh1YW_iQ5k8WP3JgRu/s640/IMG_6796.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready for lunch!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfVUi9024iGgjRejzW-X-cVUzDczgc0YkH-53GXCiIM964o9_21tFtdz5NMInwY_JN57yEEh6ZaE22WStKODSOERPw0aqCRjxU2C6ioe4oA-83QSk9Mh1qhgQRfyzkxlFZVx0O/s1600/IMG_6846.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfVUi9024iGgjRejzW-X-cVUzDczgc0YkH-53GXCiIM964o9_21tFtdz5NMInwY_JN57yEEh6ZaE22WStKODSOERPw0aqCRjxU2C6ioe4oA-83QSk9Mh1qhgQRfyzkxlFZVx0O/s400/IMG_6846.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Workout room in Bay La Sun</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMexok0Zj6Nc33qcH4XBIMFi0BWBTV8IMdNfJyiAGUqrUupxdayHvZw51juqDhDo_4hq-uOzZqvh56lRY7nWR_rllizWzyHkZhRvu7V38L_fvXvKRJF_50ivQSN63d4Wxph4eG/s1600/IMG_6848.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMexok0Zj6Nc33qcH4XBIMFi0BWBTV8IMdNfJyiAGUqrUupxdayHvZw51juqDhDo_4hq-uOzZqvh56lRY7nWR_rllizWzyHkZhRvu7V38L_fvXvKRJF_50ivQSN63d4Wxph4eG/s400/IMG_6848.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is there a "no pain" option I can choose?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAogRyQnaF76tH5xvymXz6gZtmGpaS14_jH3s7cnSh_bq2KUayt7kkLoIem5yhFTBkZZIEN88fPnDt0r0nwSgbRFS6R7hkNqihzQfxguZOx7DNkRXAINELpkOtrE32rqcx1tqF/s1600/IMG_6849.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAogRyQnaF76tH5xvymXz6gZtmGpaS14_jH3s7cnSh_bq2KUayt7kkLoIem5yhFTBkZZIEN88fPnDt0r0nwSgbRFS6R7hkNqihzQfxguZOx7DNkRXAINELpkOtrE32rqcx1tqF/s400/IMG_6849.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ah, I found the "no pain" option!<br />
(Bay La Sun dessert buffet after dinner)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_tOlcVVJeM4pVyJdpIw8RYor8RrD2DqHaF1blp6n9XIhDehVKH6Li0Qt9fLe-aSb7CNH5HQ0ZolStQ9bK4EpFOnktPTKZMcJ63V9AR7EVgZJwlAHsxEh4cPnCEcPyBLMvcsnp/s1600/IMG_6930.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_tOlcVVJeM4pVyJdpIw8RYor8RrD2DqHaF1blp6n9XIhDehVKH6Li0Qt9fLe-aSb7CNH5HQ0ZolStQ9bK4EpFOnktPTKZMcJ63V9AR7EVgZJwlAHsxEh4cPnCEcPyBLMvcsnp/s400/IMG_6930.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On approach to Minneapolis. Based on the snow I'm thinking it might be colder than what I was used to in Saudi...</td></tr>
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<hr />
<br />
<h2>
Other random thoughts and notes</h2>
<br />
In telling people of my upcoming travel plans, I was often asked "are you going to get out of the city and go see the sights?" My answer is that I personally never felt safe doing that. Another westerner might, and indeed many of my coworkers did go outside the KAUST and KAEC walls to experience scuba diving or the Jeddah mall (I don't know if "Mall of Arabia" has the same jingle as Mall of America, though I kind of hope it does). I only went out once (the fishy lunch mentioned during trip #4), and I was heavily escorted by local residents. And that was a good trip. But I also never felt a <em>need</em> to go exploring, either, because KAEC and KAUST themselves had plenty to keep me occupied.<br />
<br />
Also, outside of the cities, well, it's a lot of desert. And it's FLAT. We flew over some hills on the flights into Jeddah, but those must have been farther away from KAUST because I never saw them from driving around on the ground. So, see my earlier comments about feeling like I was on Arrakis or Tatooine. It really felt that way. There was also a lot of random junk littering the side of the highway: tires, pop cans, other random junk. I've no idea where it all came from. Also for unknown reasons, I saw many many cars randomly parked along the sides of the road. No idea what they were doing, because again, it was all desert. The parked trucks I could at least imagine the drivers must be resting/sleeping, maybe the same was true for the parked cars?<br />
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<br />
Speaking of driving around, I was amazed at how perfectly smooth the highways, and even normal streets, were - I guess I'm just so accustomed to living in Minnesota where we have terrible roads because of winter and patching/re-patching from ice damage. The only bumps I experienced were the reflective bumps marking the lanes (instead of painted lines), and of course all the deliberate speed bumps. Oh, and the highways were very well-lit, too, as were all the roads inside KAUST/KAEC. I get the impression not all cities could claim this, but these two very recently-built areas were very nice.<br />
<br />
For reasons I didn't understand and never remembered to ask about, the Saudi highway between Jeddah and KAUST had a couple random security checkpoints, at which they never actually checked the car or anything, the driver just had to slow down to go over the speed bumps (have I mentioned how much they love their speed bumps) and the guards would wave us on through, or not even acknowledge our car and we'd just keep going. It seemed pointless, but, maybe there was a real reason hidden somewhere, that I just didn't know about.<br />
<br />
Other sights seen included Baskin Robbins everywhere (seemed like every few blocks when we were in/near Jeddah, and of course both KAUST and KAEC had at least one), and also McDonald's.<br />
<br />
If you haven't gotten the impression already from my writing that I really loved both KAUST and KAEC, let me be clear: I loved my time spent there. It's my opinion that King Abdullah was, at least in this regard, a visionary. These cities he ordered to be built are both beautiful and forward-thinking, and global-thinking. Instead of fearing a post-oil future, he embraced it, and built the foundation (KAEC) for Saudi to remain a global economic player even after their oil some day depletes. And with regard to KAUST he wrote: "KAUST shall be a beacon for peace, hope and reconciliation, and shall serve the people of the Kingdom and the world."<br />
<br />
When I mentioned my travel plans in an email exchange with Pastor Katie from Upper Room, she wrote back, "I can't even imagine your life. Safe travels :)" I always held onto this as a good reminder about how lucky and privileged I was to be able to go on these trips. My time at KAUST allowed me to create international friendships and experience some really great theological and social conversations. It was an experience of a lifetime, and I'm so grateful.<br />
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<hr />
<br />
<h2>
Photo albums</h2>
<br />
I posted all my photos as Facebook albums and made them public so they can be viewed even if you don't have a Facebook account. I know if you've made it this far you've already invested a LONG time reading this blog post, but KAUST and KAEC are so beautiful and I'd love for you to experience a glimpse of their beauty through these pictures. Here are the links:<br />
<br />
KAUST trip 1: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.995660885845.1073741834.40400401&type=1&l=342b57d7c5" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.995660885845.1073741834.40400401&type=1&l=342b57d7c5</a><br />
<br />
KAUST trip 2: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.995684613295.1073741836.40400401&type=1&l=09fd0c6537" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.995684613295.1073741836.40400401&type=1&l=09fd0c6537</a><br />
<br />
KAUST trip 3: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10100109829667665.1073741839.40400401&type=1&l=f11df6a726" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10100109829667665.1073741839.40400401&type=1&l=f11df6a726</a><br />
<br />
Plants of KAUST: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10100109832492005.1073741840.40400401&type=1&l=18127c19ef" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10100109832492005.1073741840.40400401&type=1&l=18127c19ef</a><br />
<br />
KAUST trip 4: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10100140999682705.1073741843.40400401&type=1&l=ca429bd717" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10100140999682705.1073741843.40400401&type=1&l=ca429bd717</a>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-50770458932374559772020-04-28T13:15:00.000-05:002020-04-28T13:15:08.244-05:00Robin's Diary: "Eat, Woof, Love"<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfWe-7q3-Q8dRu2dxA1EgZVGyrNHZBdSb4JfCVHbJOHHNPyUgbnwpGYnAP430NYMehVT98yd3cRHkQpk9ufW8w8JE83AZ9Z4NKT5YCl99zP7nSBAd-NGVo1LnIgt6iwZSMqaof/s1600/IMG_6969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfWe-7q3-Q8dRu2dxA1EgZVGyrNHZBdSb4JfCVHbJOHHNPyUgbnwpGYnAP430NYMehVT98yd3cRHkQpk9ufW8w8JE83AZ9Z4NKT5YCl99zP7nSBAd-NGVo1LnIgt6iwZSMqaof/s400/IMG_6969.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me</td></tr>
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Hi. I'm Robin. I weigh 25.1 pounds!<sup>1</sup> I live with my brother Winnie, and our bunnies Luke and Daisy, and our Mommy and Daddy, whom we love very, very much. I love making out with Mommy on the mouth but Daddy says "I know where that tongue's been" and doesn't let me lick him on the face, so I lick his ears and toes instead.<br />
<br />
When Winnie asked me to write my first journal entry a couple months ago, I had just come to live here, and I was shy and overwhelmed by all the changes in my life. I also really missed my twin sister, who stayed behind at the puppy farm.<sup>2</sup> Now I've settled in and Daddy asked if I'd like to write another journal to tell everyone how I'm doing. I said "woof!" It's hard to type with paws but I use my nose and tail, too.<br />
<br />
Mommy and Daddy say I'm the sweetest little puppy. I'm always so happy (except when I'm scared), and I love licking my Mommy and Daddy's feet. It's my way of saying "I love you so much." Unbeknownst to them when they first met me, I'm also a spitfire full of energy, especially in the morning! I'm definitely a morning doggy. In the morning Winnie wakes up Daddy and says, "Daddy we have to go potty!" Daddy usually mumbles something about an alarm not going off yet and lets us out into Yard. We come back in and Winnie likes to cuddle with Daddy and Mommy but I'm ready to bark at the day and get running!<br />
<br />
While Mommy and Winnie cuddle, and Daddy goes to someplace called "work", I have my own duty to our household: neighborhood watchdog. I perch on the couch and keep our castle safe by barking at all the short gremlins<sup>3</sup> and 'vaders, and especially the 'truders on two-wheel contraptions! I bark "get off my lawn" and scare them away. If I'm barking a lot Mommy will come and look out the window with me, and when I tell her what I saw she'll say "thank you, Robin, for keeping us safe." I don't know what they'd do without me, our castle would get overrun!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTWSkxRDuMkyQLy6zb10XyU7-tnaizrKdcAJuE2cQtAFDwAsOkSSOuDZ6fYJsDnqyOouB8JRVVJH6n7aZTr_4iDEclBnk1UBW9Tg-k26ukcqFyBZ7BJWPxLF7l3uZcDvuIKgki/s1600/IMG_7536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTWSkxRDuMkyQLy6zb10XyU7-tnaizrKdcAJuE2cQtAFDwAsOkSSOuDZ6fYJsDnqyOouB8JRVVJH6n7aZTr_4iDEclBnk1UBW9Tg-k26ukcqFyBZ7BJWPxLF7l3uZcDvuIKgki/s640/IMG_7536.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guarding our castle from gremlins and 'vaders and 'truders!</td></tr>
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<br />
Most days Daddy has to go someplace called "Work." He used to go out the gate into Beyond Yard, but then Mommy told me there was something called "Cone Virus" out there and Daddy's Work moved from Beyond Yard into Basement. Some days Daddy sits on Couch with me instead, and I help him type important woof-mails to his cow-workers on his 'Puter. But even on the days he has to go to Basement, I know Daddy's nearby and I get to see him when he comes upstairs for hot smelly water. And sometimes I even go down the stairs to visit him. (Winnie's never figured out how to go down the basement stairs but I figured it out right away! Mommy and Daddy used to keep a door closed to keep me from Basement, now they put up a fence at the bottom of the stairs. I'm still trying to figure out how to overcome that obstacle...)<br />
<br />
Sometimes I take a break from working as neighborhood watchdog and I go into Yard to play with Winnie. We like playing Rope, and Stick, and wrestling, and saying hi to Winnie's closest friend, Emma, who lives on the other side of Fence. Emma and I didn't get along at first; she called me a "woof-woof" and I was scared of her, but now we're good friends. Sometimes Emma's Mommy and Daddy even invite us over to play in Emma's Yard. I like Emma now, but her Yard has several short gremlins that I bark at, because I want to keep Emma safe. Mommy says the gremlins are friendly and have names, but I'm dubious.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixRcIRws7QXDeRnEiptjTVE9mGrQgUMmBM3Nlk-5OK8fkdmZR_PkpS9nSuUJAamdobCW51hhKaq3j7w6LL_dvFNJoU-uFWrFjs2HUIzVKO6sTmvFfuWrHN2fQthl76fGDEx1b9/s1600/IMG_7691.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixRcIRws7QXDeRnEiptjTVE9mGrQgUMmBM3Nlk-5OK8fkdmZR_PkpS9nSuUJAamdobCW51hhKaq3j7w6LL_dvFNJoU-uFWrFjs2HUIzVKO6sTmvFfuWrHN2fQthl76fGDEx1b9/s400/IMG_7691.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my boyfriend, Finn</td></tr>
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On the other side of our Yard, another puppy named Finn moved in. He's a big boy, and we fell in love instantly, and Winnie and I tried digging a hole under Fence so we could get to him. I don't understand why but Mommy wasn't happy when we came back to Door covered in mud from digging.<br />
<br />
Daddy tried putting up another Fence in Yard to keep me apart from Finn, so Finn and I moved our romance six feet to the left of Daddy's new fence and started digging another hole. Then Daddy put up a small fence around all the wood chips and keeps saying "puppies on wood chips!"<sup>4</sup> So naturally I jump over the small fence onto the wood chips so I can make out with Finn through Fence! Winnie hasn't figured out how to jump over the small fence so he barks at me because he's jealous.<sup>5, 6</sup><br />
<br />
A little while after I came to live here, I caught the Cone Virus myself :( It started out as a normal morning, Daddy woke me up and got me ready to go out the door, and I was so excited!! I love going for walks and rides in the car, so I was smiling and wagging my whole body. Mommy brought me someplace called "V-E-T" for a "S-P-A-Y" (Mommy and Daddy often spell things because they think I don't know how to spell) and I fell asleep. When I woke up later, I was in Mommy's arms and I had a cone around my head. I was really drowsy and drooling and it was no fun. It was a very ruff day. Daddy told me later he felt so guilty about sending me to V-E-T because I had been so happy that morning, and he said something about a "sheep to the slaughter." I don't really understand what that means but I know Daddy was sad for me, and he and Mommy took extra good care of me while I got better.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoAG5fDURb0p6uvERVID7J6-hgInXhyl4Bz8QFfRcTsEeCTIZK0ppUX0Dxo-t4eQLlnh9xPwYDpeU5ptEp7HmjH7-O34yHWZdXeKNS79iEFThXGK9OX31Fsgt9l-DBnbfv_VZR/s1600/IMG_7398.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoAG5fDURb0p6uvERVID7J6-hgInXhyl4Bz8QFfRcTsEeCTIZK0ppUX0Dxo-t4eQLlnh9xPwYDpeU5ptEp7HmjH7-O34yHWZdXeKNS79iEFThXGK9OX31Fsgt9l-DBnbfv_VZR/s400/IMG_7398.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me when I had Cone Virus :(<br />
But even then I was still a happy puppy!</td></tr>
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I was better by the next day. I was wagging my tail and smiling again and running around the house and up and down the stairs to Yard. Mommy told me Winnie took a long time to adjust to his cone but I figured it out right away. I love Winnie but I'm smarter than he is in a lot of ways. Mommy also said Winnie had "man pain" when he had his cone and was being whiney and mopey. I didn't like surgery, but I didn't whine or mope about it like Winnie! Also Daddy gave me bacon flavored pain pills every day.<br />
<br />
After a few days Mommy and Daddy took away my plastic cone and gave me an inflatable cone instead. I really loved it. Mommy called it my "air bag" because I'd run too fast and accidentally slide across the kitchen floor into the cabinets, but my inflatable cone cushioned my stop. Even better, Winnie was scared of my air bag so I really really loved chasing him around when I was wearing it. I was sad a week later when Daddy took off my air bag and so I kept asking him to put it back on me, but he said I didn't need to wear it anymore.<br />
<br />
Before Cone Virus happened, Mommy and Daddy used to take me to Puppy Torture Time<sup>7</sup> at "Petco: Where the Pets Go," and told me I had to play with the other puppies. My first time there I did my best to hide in the corner, even though Carol the trainer kept trying to get me to interact. But I was scared! Little puppies scare me the most. I'm okay with most big dogs (like Finn, who's about 90 pounds), but if they're small and especially if they're under 5 pounds then they're absolutely terrifying!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEUy7qmiGdnbRd9mdHBS15OaAEFGz_r_Iitf2cRt9gd_QcqgXungsXTpt3HZfrvUE8NUK7tkyQS926HXDnFnGOEiBljbBVfJQLLzfkPOTr2hyaJMDcpn-_hNBDyueSwJkSQzN8/s1600/IMG_6892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEUy7qmiGdnbRd9mdHBS15OaAEFGz_r_Iitf2cRt9gd_QcqgXungsXTpt3HZfrvUE8NUK7tkyQS926HXDnFnGOEiBljbBVfJQLLzfkPOTr2hyaJMDcpn-_hNBDyueSwJkSQzN8/s400/IMG_6892.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Puppy torture time, but I found a nice corner.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Fortunately Mommy and Daddy could only bring me a couple times to Puppy Torture Time before I got too old. This made me happy. But then, they kept talking about something called "socializing" and how it was important for me to get to know other dogs. I kept trying to remind Daddy how introverted he is and how shy he used to be when he was little<sup>8</sup>, and I'm pretty sure I got him to feel guilty for pushing me to meet other puppies.<sup>9</sup><br />
<br />
Some time ago on a Friday night, Daddy told me we were going to the library so I could digest some literature.<sup>10</sup> This sounded delightful! I could think of no better way to spend a Friday night than with a pile of books in my mouth. Winnie and I put on our lederhosen<sup>11</sup> and got into the car. Daddy must have gotten lost while driving, though, because instead of the library we ended up at a place called "<a href="https://unleashedhoundsandhops.com/" target="_blank">Unleashed: Hounds and Hops</a>." It was like Puppy Torture Time except even worse! There were dogs everywhere, running around with no leashes, and Daddy ate a gourmet bacon-bits-covered hot dog right in front of me and didn't share! Mommy and Daddy kept trying to get me to play with the other puppies, but I preferred hiding underneath the bench where they were sitting. Winnie is what we call an "extreme extrovert" so he was having the time of his life running around and meeting all the doggies and their hoo-mans<sup>12</sup>, but I stuck with my bench, where I knew I was safe.<br />
<br />
This inspired Mommy to make up a Robin theme song for me. It goes something like this:<br />
<br />
"If you're in a big room, hide in a corner and you do the Robin dance!<br />
If you see a doggie coming, hide under a bench and you do the Robin dance!<br />
If you see a person coming, hide behind Mommy and you do the Robin dance!<br />
If you're ever in doubt, hide under a table and you do the Robin dance! The Robin dance!"<br />
<br />
I love that song. It really captures the essence of being me.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMaOnO7osVF91Y8leoORnnpX5lcwzlMmv7DbPiWymDvr1X0aijsVx9hI2ndyF8tfW5bNSQkafKBE5Ro1FAsRJql-xn_VjaEWiPPR9-6dyvfR4ZaDfrYdtQ6DSyUR1Ql57pQG8C/s1600/IMG_7698.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMaOnO7osVF91Y8leoORnnpX5lcwzlMmv7DbPiWymDvr1X0aijsVx9hI2ndyF8tfW5bNSQkafKBE5Ro1FAsRJql-xn_VjaEWiPPR9-6dyvfR4ZaDfrYdtQ6DSyUR1Ql57pQG8C/s640/IMG_7698.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love tables.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
After a few weeks going to the not-library and Daddy never sharing his hot dogs with us, I started to get a little braver and ventured out from my bench for a minute or two at a time. If there were big doggies, I'd go play with them. But as soon as a little 2-pound doggie came up to me I ran away and hid. 2-pound doggies are the scariest!! Maybe someday they won't be as scary. After all, when I first moved in, I was scared of Luke and Daisy Bunny, too, but now I know if I'm nice to them they might sneak me some of their chew toys through their playpen fence, so I'm not scared of bunnies anymore.<br />
<br />
I also don't get so overwhelmed when I meet someone new anymore. My first couple weeks living at Home, whenever Mommy or Daddy's friends would come over it was so much for me to process that I just fell asleep. Now I'm a much braver puppy and willing to come up and sniff new people. Of course, no one comes over anymore, because of Cone Virus. That's just fine by me, but it makes my brother really sad. And I'll admit, even I miss my Daddy's friend named Dog - or maybe his name is spelled Doug? - who used to come over a lot. Winnie really loved him, and I started to like Doug, too, because his face is furry like a puppy and he was always very nice to Winnie and me.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEZ44LF35eoDLY-O1v7cKZv-nESrPfnOQvipjMVvf952TZX6BgS4G8G27TNjhYsgeHufCAbtWA6EvUc0XnnQk3EISo2QVPPdGya-VweFMLECXKzmjpg-WzGI9GO8kvQ8rQLxw/s1600/IMG_7723.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEZ44LF35eoDLY-O1v7cKZv-nESrPfnOQvipjMVvf952TZX6BgS4G8G27TNjhYsgeHufCAbtWA6EvUc0XnnQk3EISo2QVPPdGya-VweFMLECXKzmjpg-WzGI9GO8kvQ8rQLxw/s400/IMG_7723.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This pillow looks like my puppy daddy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Even though I'm not scared of bunnies or some hoo-mans anymore, there are still lots of things that scare me in the big, wide world! Like running water, and baths. And the short gremlins. And, the worst: one morning every week, a loud scary monster truck that steals our trash! I bark and bark and bark and wake Daddy up so he knows there's a monster, and my barking scares the trash-stealer monster away. Daddy gives me a big hug and thanks me for keeping us safe. He says I'm so fierce.<br />
<br />
I agree. I know I'm a strong, fierce, and independent puppy. Winnie always wants to be around Mommy or Daddy, but I don't mind going off and doing my own thing. Daddy says I remind him a lot of himself, because I like having my "introvert" time. I sit on my spot on the cowch,<sup>13</sup> or on my towel over by Door, or under my bed,<sup>14</sup> or under a table, and I have a great time just being by myself with my thoughts. I also like taking naps on my pillow, which looks like my puppy daddy.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnQ1bagCWOOXimqlt4kD3lVAZZceLmChjxYFdPL3nJA8UZ5ssQR0xOIodva5nAxOQ4Q9YwvO6BVQGKP_TG_wp91dYGlT1zRqfy-8hyePGq8gbI75U5xMu4ZFdoJzcPx0mhaORK/s1600/IMG_6957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnQ1bagCWOOXimqlt4kD3lVAZZceLmChjxYFdPL3nJA8UZ5ssQR0xOIodva5nAxOQ4Q9YwvO6BVQGKP_TG_wp91dYGlT1zRqfy-8hyePGq8gbI75U5xMu4ZFdoJzcPx0mhaORK/s320/IMG_6957.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love having my picture taken.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Other things I enjoy include being brushed (I don't understand why Winnie hates it so much, I LOVE when Mommy brushes me!), eating Kleenex out of the organics, helping Mommy with laundry (I love socks), having my picture taken (as soon as I notice Daddy trying to take a picture I try to lick his phone), playing Baby Hedgehog<sup>16</sup>, and cuddling with one of my Lambies.<br />
<br />
I also LOVE going on walks! When Daddy gets out my lederhosen I do the excited Robin dance where I wag my whole body (not just my tail) back and forth, and eat my leash while Daddy tries to get me ready. Daddy says I'm "spastic" but I don't know what that word means. I'm assuming it just means "so excited I can't contain myself!" Sometimes I grab my own leash in my mouth and tell Mommy and Daddy that I'm capable of walking myself. Other times I grab Winnie's leash because someone's gotta keep an eye on him!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTFltdNn8N4GOv0i4cg7Av_pTKz5hOD0jrYEdqe2hqFIDQhoJLXGDlAIWMP-7abMotjySmclZ7MKuwl77hYhhL9DAH-M-X7m9VY3Ef2_OBfJezRKE1OucZpzsPHPzCJySaLd3/s1600/IMG_6903.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTFltdNn8N4GOv0i4cg7Av_pTKz5hOD0jrYEdqe2hqFIDQhoJLXGDlAIWMP-7abMotjySmclZ7MKuwl77hYhhL9DAH-M-X7m9VY3Ef2_OBfJezRKE1OucZpzsPHPzCJySaLd3/s640/IMG_6903.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't worry Mommy, I've got Winnie's leash.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
When we go for walks usually it's nearby Home, but sometimes we get in the car and drive to "Puppy Park."<sup>17</sup> I used to not like Puppy Park because there were so many other dogs there (of course, my brother loved it because he loves other dogs). Now that there's Cone Virus around, we don't see as many dogs and people there as we used to, and when we do see people the hoo-mans always stay at least leash-length away from us, which suits me just fine. Sometimes I enjoy when Mommy takes my leash off but usually I feel safer when I'm on my leash. Winnie likes being off leash, though, and runs to play with any doggies we see. He especially loves the ones who are fluffy like us.<br />
<br />
Winnie's helped teach me a lot about living here at Home but there're at least a couple things I've taught him. For instance, Daddy says Winnie's a lot better about coming inside now, and it's because I convinced Daddy to give me and Winnie freeze-dried liver treats every time we come in Door. Sometimes I'll go outside for 5 seconds just so I can come back inside and beg for a treat, and sometimes I ask for a treat even when it was actually Winnie who came in the door, but I hoped Daddy wasn't paying attention to which doggie actually came inside. I think Daddy might have caught onto me, though. Anyway, because <em>I'm</em> so good at coming in when Daddy rings the "come inside" bells,<sup>18</sup> I've trained Winnie to follow me and also come inside, and Daddy says it's all thanks to me that Winnie's being better behaved. And if Daddy ever forgets to give me my coming-inside treat, I sit politely and stare at the top of the fridge where the treats are, until he notices.<br />
<br />
Winnie and I like to wrestle, but we really do love each other and like to snuggle when we're tired. He also helps me keep watch on the neighborhood and will help me bark when there's another puppy on our sidewalk (though he's not really very helpful, because while I'm barking "go away" he's barking "come play with me!" Very conflicting messages, I can see how other puppies would get confused by us). And of course we love playing with our toys. When I first came Home, Mommy and Daddy gave me some of my very own toys! Winnie used to steal them from me when I was younger, but now that I'm bigger, I can steal back some of his toys so we're about even.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPwrv1taFVK4Tn8KbENkiqJZauOvhbLic-CmjgeWcYB5CW4ur6rXR0TnqUpKL4eakZBghmWQUFuMSgcDFiHq6XpIdD9z_QftIB_0-2IxMJX6yXMkh2FLM50C4we9XhsWFScdGI/s1600/IMG_7173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPwrv1taFVK4Tn8KbENkiqJZauOvhbLic-CmjgeWcYB5CW4ur6rXR0TnqUpKL4eakZBghmWQUFuMSgcDFiHq6XpIdD9z_QftIB_0-2IxMJX6yXMkh2FLM50C4we9XhsWFScdGI/s640/IMG_7173.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love my brother.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Winnie told me before I came to live here that he had something called "Christmas," when he got to go over to Grandma and Grandpa Puppy's every day for two weeks for treats! This made me sad, because at the puppy farm we didn't have "Christmas," we just had two kibbles for 400 puppies.<sup>19</sup> And I was extra sad when Winnie had his birthday, because I haven't ever had a birthday! But Winnie "is empathy" and when he saw how sad I was he shared some of his banana flavored birthday cupcakes with me, and that made me so happy.<br />
<br />
Daddy asked me if I could explain that last sentence a little more. Mommy and Daddy say Winnie has a very sensitive soul, and he can sense other people's emotions around him. For instance if Mommy is sick in the middle of the night, Winnie will wake Daddy up and say "Mommy's not feeling well, I need to go comfort her." So, we say that he "is empathy."<br />
<br />
Mommy and Daddy say that for as much as Winnie is empathy, I'm the sweetest and most generous in my love. I love my family so much and I'll lick Mommy or Daddy's feet any time they want, as my way of showing how much I love them. I can't tell you how much I love my Mommy and Daddy, and I know they love me just as much. I'm so happy to be living here, my Home.<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading.<br />
<br />
- Robin<br />
<br />
<i>
(with a little help from Daddy for typing and spelling)</i><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp-bV2N0H-PKg54c1aY6bzMJ87a8VrvZACCzttOGjWCJQ0C0Ost4gjtZ5qe9MMkozOKTmOqGpqWH4nt0slm3Tx-QQHtlSOxgHOdLRab7u8dVJFlb3XYm19H2MTK5_5eu5gTDNK/s1600/IMG_6802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp-bV2N0H-PKg54c1aY6bzMJ87a8VrvZACCzttOGjWCJQ0C0Ost4gjtZ5qe9MMkozOKTmOqGpqWH4nt0slm3Tx-QQHtlSOxgHOdLRab7u8dVJFlb3XYm19H2MTK5_5eu5gTDNK/s640/IMG_6802.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Daddy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<hr />
<h3>
Footnotes</h3>
<br />
<sup>1</sup> From Jeremy: Robin barely weighs in over 12 pounds, not 25.1. But she's convinced otherwise because when she first visited the vet she weighed in at 12.5 pounds, and the vet was (for reasons we still don't understand) convinced Robin would weigh over 25 by the time she was fully grown. Given that cavachons max out at about 20 (Winnie is 19.9), and that Robin's on the smaller side, we doubt she'll reach 25.1. But, Robin's convinced of it, and she's so earnest that we don't have the heart to correct her.<br />
<br />
<sup>2</sup> Mommy told me sister isn't on the puppy website anymore, but Daddy said if we ever do find her that she could come to live with us. Mommy's looked all over and can't find her, so we just hope she went to live with a loving family like I did.<br />
<br />
<sup>3</sup> From Jeremy: Robin refers to all children as "Gremlins."<br />
<br />
<sup>4</sup> From Jeremy: I actually say "<em>no</em> puppies on wood chips" but Robin has selective hearing when it comes to "no."<br />
<br />
<sup>5</sup> From Jeremy: It's probably not jealousy; we're pretty sure Winnie actually remembers the "no puppies on wood chips" rule from last summer/autumn, and is barking at Robin because he knows she's being naughty. Half the time when we hear barking outside, it's because Robin's on the wrong side of the fence (on wood chips) and Winnie's telling her she's not supposed to be there. He's a really good puppy.<br />
<br />
<sup>6</sup> From Jeremy: Update: While Robin was writing this blog post, Winnie has now figured out how to jump over the fence. He doesn't do it much, only to visit Finn and try digging under the fence to get into Finn's yard.<br />
<br />
<sup>7</sup> From Jeremy: It's actually called "Puppy Playtime," and is available (for free!) for puppies up to six months old.<br />
<br />
<sup>8</sup> Daddy's taught me that "shy" and "introvert" are two different things. I happen to be both shy and introverted, but I know you can also be outgoing and introverted (like Daddy), or shy and extroverted, or outgoing and extroverted.<br />
<br />
<sup>9</sup> From Jeremy: In particular, I kept pondering the book I recently read called "Quiet: The power of introverts in a world that can't stop talking." Eventually, I came to the conclusion that raising a puppy who is both shy and introverted is at least marginally different than raising a human child with the same attributes, and that forced socialization is more important and appropriate in the former case than the latter. With that said, I will also take this moment to shamelessly plug the "Quiet" book to everyone, either introverted or extroverted, as I found it to be deeply insightful in further understanding (and perhaps validating) myself.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hgqqIhAahDAT0yrcpr3n6DQphenUB-GN9BM2snqWVF1459jgHhatASptVwefiEAk-rI1_HPB00Lg-2NmCR-MW1NK6RFNbayezGchH7Am4XImtZe2XgIfWLeEOybu3ljpaovH/s1600/IMG_7570.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hgqqIhAahDAT0yrcpr3n6DQphenUB-GN9BM2snqWVF1459jgHhatASptVwefiEAk-rI1_HPB00Lg-2NmCR-MW1NK6RFNbayezGchH7Am4XImtZe2XgIfWLeEOybu3ljpaovH/s400/IMG_7570.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love eating paper and cardboard.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<sup>10</sup> From Jeremy: Robin has literally eaten the cover off one of my books at home, so "digesting literature" isn't entirely metaphorical!<br />
<br />
<sup>11</sup> From Jeremy: A.k.a. their harnesses.<br />
<br />
<sup>12</sup> From Jeremy: Unleashed is really, really cool. It's an indoor off-leash dog park, with an adjoining mini restaurant that makes delicious (if slightly overpriced) gourmet hot dogs, with fun names like The Good Boy, The Mutt, The Clifford, The Bark-B-Q, and The Raise The Woof, to name just a few. They also serve wine and beer (hence the "hops" in "hounds and hops"). In the off-leash area they have about four "Ruffarees" who supervise the dogs' behavior and even clean up if there's an accidental "code yellow" or "code brown." Every time we've been there it's been busy, which is great for Winnie who loves all people and all dogs. What's even better, is that all the people there are dog-owners/lovers, and of course Winnie's so cute and fluffy that when he goes up to a stranger and says "pet me," they almost always oblige. So, Winnie has the time of his life. Poor Robin... well, she'd rather go to the library. And honestly, I probably would, too - fun as Unleashed is, being around that many people and dogs is what I call a "high-drain appliance" on the introvert battery.<br />
<br />
<sup>13</sup> Hoo-mans spell it "couch" but I spell it "cowch" because it tastes like "cow-ch". (From Jeremy: in case it's not clear: it's a leather couch. And leather is made from cow. The more I explain the joke, the funnier it becomes.)<br />
<br />
<sup>14</sup> From Jeremy: she means Alissa's and my bed.<sup>15</sup><br />
<br />
<sup>15</sup> From Robin: No Daddy I mean Winnie's and my bed. You sleep in kennel.<br />
<br />
<sup>16</sup> From Jeremy: Baby Hedgehog is a game where Alissa or I will run around the house squeaking the puppies' baby hedgehog stuffed animal squeaker toys, and the puppies chase us, and then we throw the baby hedgehogs and the puppies chase them. Then, repeat. Can also be played with other squeaky toys such as Mr Fox, Mr Raccoon, etc.<br />
<br />
<sup>17</sup> From Jeremy: A.k.a. the Minnehaha Falls off-leash dog area.<br />
<br />
<sup>18</sup> From Jeremy: Not that Doctor Pavlov needed me to validate his research, but it really works well ringing the bells and associating that with a freeze-dried liver treat (or bacon treat, or meatball, hot dog, milk bone, etc) as a reward for coming inside when called. Robin caught onto this <em>right</em> away, and helped train Winnie out of an annoying habit he had of ignoring us when we called to him to come inside. It's extremely rare now that either of them doesn't come when we ring the bells.<br />
<br />
<sup>19</sup> From Jeremy: we're sure that was not literally true, this is just Robin's perception.<br />
<br />Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-14839189828407603692020-01-29T11:05:00.000-06:002020-01-29T11:05:00.375-06:00Winnie's Diary: Introducing Robin<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYxTqJScWWQiRa6b74KxDPdH59vKJmQY2rUs2_Cohn-xteYlb8kApwYnCccJ9f852Dapdooh2_vWu3fH-Qc_E8GvSe15Gpa7B8yhwpkDtiu2ACo0SbeDbVlgtJcmtvE4Sy2nrd/s1600/58086143030__17EEF62C-F39F-4590-944A-9A32C3F1FA98.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYxTqJScWWQiRa6b74KxDPdH59vKJmQY2rUs2_Cohn-xteYlb8kApwYnCccJ9f852Dapdooh2_vWu3fH-Qc_E8GvSe15Gpa7B8yhwpkDtiu2ACo0SbeDbVlgtJcmtvE4Sy2nrd/s400/58086143030__17EEF62C-F39F-4590-944A-9A32C3F1FA98.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Hi. I'm Winnie. I live with my Mommy and my Daddy and my two bunnies, Luke and Daisy. I used to think Luke and Daisy were strange puppies, but now I've figured out they are really bunnies and not puppies.<sup>1</sup><br />
<br />
It's a lot of work taking care of everyone - I do all the chores around the house, after all. In the mornings I wake up the bunnies and feed them kibbles, then I go outside and potty and bark at the neighbor dogs. Next door to me lives Emma, my closest friend, and we talk to each other through the fence. We also have "bark offs" with Cody, Brody, and Frody<sup>2</sup>, who live on the other side of Emma's fence.<br />
<br />
When I come back inside the house, I run to Mommy and jump on her and walk all over her back - I call this my "shih tzu massage" (even though I'm actually a Cavachon). Mommy and I cuddle while Daddy gets dressed to go someplace called "work." I don't know where that is, but he says he has to go there to bring home the bacon, and, sure enough, each night at bedtime, he gives me a tasty bacon chew treat. I'm sad that Daddy has to spend so much time away from me, but I'm glad that he finds bacon at work to bring home to me.<br />
<br />
After Mommy and I wake up from cuddles, it's time for puppy chores! I put away the bunny food dishes, refill their hay and litter and water, put away all the hoo-man dishes, make the bed, and check if the trash needs to go outside (if it does then I leave the bag by the back door, then when Daddy comes home later I escort him out to the trash can, to make sure he doesn't misbehave). Later in the day I check for mail and packages, before the package thieves can abscond with them. Then I'm ready for a nap! It's hard work being a puppy, and being responsible for an entire house! Oh, and of course, I also vacuum the kitchen floor if Mommy or Daddy drop pieces of cheese, or popcorn ("puppycorn"), or kale (Daddy calls me a "pupster"), or even eggshells! And anytime the bunnies poo outside their fence, I vacuum that up with my tongue, too.<br />
<br />
When I was younger, Mommy and Daddy would bring me to a place called "Petco, where the Pets Go," on the weekends for puppy play time, where I got to see all sorts of puppy friends and run and jump and hump and get told "no humping" (actually, usually I was the one getting humped; Carol, the puppy trainer, said I had "sugar butt"). It was so much fun. But then I got too old for puppy play time and so Mommy and Daddy and I would go to the puppy parks instead, where I didn't have to wear a leash! Daddy always says how proud he is of me when we go to the Minnehaha off-leash park, because I stay right next to him for almost our whole walk. I'm a really good puppy.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeR-FdpE3IB-PfaSIkboG39l1Ey96rEfPWM9GnESemavepFpYgFbcyHetAtsK2JVj7aVhKfqqmfVoKVJIZMntK5RJ2ifYJDUQpc2cX1dK33uJvuSTImqQFArOV71TCOS_flHJe/s1600/IMG_6615_colorcorrectedcropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1489" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeR-FdpE3IB-PfaSIkboG39l1Ey96rEfPWM9GnESemavepFpYgFbcyHetAtsK2JVj7aVhKfqqmfVoKVJIZMntK5RJ2ifYJDUQpc2cX1dK33uJvuSTImqQFArOV71TCOS_flHJe/s320/IMG_6615_colorcorrectedcropped.jpg" width="296" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Loneliness"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A little while ago, it started getting cold at the puppy parks and also the sky started falling. First the sky fell in paw-sized pieces of colored tree bits, and then when it got really cold, the sky fell in white powder that got all over my fur. Mommy and Daddy started saying it was too cold to go to the park anymore, so I stopped getting to see my friends and work out all my puppy energy.<br />
<br />
Around that time, I took up a new career as a neighborhood watchdog. I perched on top of Mommy's nice couch and looked out the window, pushing aside the vertical blankets so I could see. Every time a puppy went by walking their hoo-man, I barked and asked them to come inside to play with me. But none of them ever did. It made me very sad. After they walked by, I cried for several minutes (even after the puppy was out of sight) because I was so lonely and just wanted a friend to play with. Mommy or Daddy would hold me while I cried, which made me feel loved but not any less lonely. After I stopped crying, I'd go back to watching out the window. Sometimes Mommy or Daddy would ask me what I saw, and I'd tell them, "loneliness."<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisqabPRormLNdO4iPdseong95E1OY_E1MUs3NVed0SN568x98RzeESkc-gifi9-ufl7SjIO7N0EeXleIQT9cIHi0ZNhZkzZUG0gBtRpwsBoWl_PvQjVVFWbaRE4AVA6QuBr_Qu/s1600/IMG_6582.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisqabPRormLNdO4iPdseong95E1OY_E1MUs3NVed0SN568x98RzeESkc-gifi9-ufl7SjIO7N0EeXleIQT9cIHi0ZNhZkzZUG0gBtRpwsBoWl_PvQjVVFWbaRE4AVA6QuBr_Qu/s320/IMG_6582.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Santy Paws! If you click and<br />
zoom in you can read my letter to him.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When I went to visit Santa Paws, I wrote him a list of what I wanted for Christmas: toys, bacon and turkey treats, a puppy brother or sister, and world peace. We don't have a chimney in my house, and I was really worried Santy Paws wouldn't be able to bring me my presents, so Daddy 3D-printed a fireplace for Santa to use. Also Mommy says Santa used something called "Elf Prime" to deliver a lot of presents in advance. When Christmas came, Luke and Daisy and I all got lots of treats and toys! And I got to go over to Grandma and Grandpa Puppy's every day for the 12 Days of Christmas, and got a yummy rawhide stick treat each time I went!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPUACnuq2-GNjkn1zcEIgq664xJzclg-ycGlldhaWhukJAf2B1e-njNDMOmZ3eRQTbtp6ebdwob5E53bM6NmejpYBXxMKzL1l0JEt-lQ77MACrIA-20czPtZtQ6vbszvNCpta/s1600/IMG_6639.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPUACnuq2-GNjkn1zcEIgq664xJzclg-ycGlldhaWhukJAf2B1e-njNDMOmZ3eRQTbtp6ebdwob5E53bM6NmejpYBXxMKzL1l0JEt-lQ77MACrIA-20czPtZtQ6vbszvNCpta/s320/IMG_6639.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Are you bacon?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm grateful to Santy Paws for all my presents, but I was sad I didn't get the present I wanted more than anything: a brudder or sister. I told Mommy and Daddy I'd trade all the presents I got if I could have a sibling. I said this while giving Daddy my big puppy dog eyes and he says it broke his heart. I didn't mean to break anything, I was just trying to communicate. I've learned that when I give Daddy my puppy dog eyes, I can get almost anything I want (except chocolate). Daddy says that's why I came to live with him and Mommy in the first place, is because of my puppy dog eyes.<br />
<br />
My first sign of hope came one day after Daddy held me while I cried - I overheard him talking with Mommy about "maybe we could get a second puppy, in spring." I don't know what springs have to do with anything, and waiting is very hard for a little puppy, but Daddy was adamant about something called "pot-training" and not doing it in winter; maybe he was hoping to teach the new puppy how to use kitchen utensils? It didn't make a lot of sense to me. Then I saw another puppy walking their hoo-man and I cried again, and my Daddy held me close and spoke softly to me until I calmed down. I told him how lonely I was, and how all I had were these dumb bunnies. Daddy said I should apologize to the bunnies, so I did: "I'm sorry for calling you dumb bunnies, dumb bunnies." Daddy wasn't enamored with my apology, but let it drop.<br />
<br />
A week after Christmas, Daddy went back to work so he could bring me more bacon. Then the next weekend, Mommy and Daddy and Aunty Abby and I spent a couple hours in the basement washing 300 pounds of what I'm sure was gigantic puppy kibble.<sup>3</sup> As usual I did all the work, they just watched. I've heard of a puppy named Clifford the Big Grey dog<sup>4</sup>, so I assumed he was coming to visit. I was exhausted after all that kibble washing! And Mommy wouldn't even let me eat any of it when we were done!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdJybdiD8efyLtnYLAEKGCY_XVGT0Nj1XHvzdvkUJKVC8JqHGGnWGgKgo3FNfBSyRFfEd0raCKoHqHKwJ5P9hlqj0Vj-SHGUphCUBcD5j0lZ2o1xjY_1jX7AqVP2i4f9KZhCDh/s1600/IMG_6703.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdJybdiD8efyLtnYLAEKGCY_XVGT0Nj1XHvzdvkUJKVC8JqHGGnWGgKgo3FNfBSyRFfEd0raCKoHqHKwJ5P9hlqj0Vj-SHGUphCUBcD5j0lZ2o1xjY_1jX7AqVP2i4f9KZhCDh/s640/IMG_6703.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clifford's dog food</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx9CMRdJI4sRljJ62sqYkns-JY9hflABxT2ETc-lkZkflg7hBp3LJld5PP0xEMlMam7oAqS17E6bf6SkcSOwcCEGyVnNMuKn_Be8vow2loh13HHRMDhQDbiWhP104m8Hm2OKOR/s1600/IMG_6701.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx9CMRdJI4sRljJ62sqYkns-JY9hflABxT2ETc-lkZkflg7hBp3LJld5PP0xEMlMam7oAqS17E6bf6SkcSOwcCEGyVnNMuKn_Be8vow2loh13HHRMDhQDbiWhP104m8Hm2OKOR/s640/IMG_6701.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy says this is "hydro-"... "hydro something". But I'm sure it's giant puppy kibble and I tried to eat it!</td></tr>
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<br />
Another week went by, as did so many puppies outside the window. I heard Daddy telling Mommy that, maybe it would be okay to do "pot-training" in winter after all. I didn't really understand what he meant by that, so I just kept crying while he held me and gave me comforting pets.<br />
<br />
A few days later I was napping and heard Daddy talking into his favorite light-up toy; I could barely hear a voice coming from inside the toy, but it sounded just like the Puppy Man's voice from when I was a little puppy and first met Daddy. I could tell because the Puppy Man has a very distinctive way of saying "hello?" that sounds simultaneously helpful and also surprised to be speaking to another hoo-man. Daddy talked to the Puppy Man for a few minutes and asked him some questions about Cavachons, but I was too asleep to really pay attention to what they were saying.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb7BuqaE2ZjUH5bONcBR7ZtNlAkVDWamfDY_keAS0Omg5_AwcqfSxlyDK4fOjadpfS4mntE7stxK-OhEzofCRctitGf0XEX6suYLqUG-WhT2V-1hR3-SfIMx1wf5YFglNe-2ul/s1600/IMG_6463.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb7BuqaE2ZjUH5bONcBR7ZtNlAkVDWamfDY_keAS0Omg5_AwcqfSxlyDK4fOjadpfS4mntE7stxK-OhEzofCRctitGf0XEX6suYLqUG-WhT2V-1hR3-SfIMx1wf5YFglNe-2ul/s320/IMG_6463.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my bunnies, Luke and Daisy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Late in the week, Mommy and Daddy were worried about Daisy Bunny - they saw she had some sores on her feet, and were trying to pick her up to look closer. I know the bunnies don't like to be picked up, so I tried to help by barking and whining at Mommy and Daddy. Daisy might be a dumb bunny but she's my dumb bunny and I really love her. Luke also tried to help by thumping and scratching at Mommy and Daddy. Daddy had to put me in another room because he said I wasn't helping; I guess he just doesn't understand helpfulness. I heard Mommy and Daddy agreeing about how they needed to take care of the pets they already had, before adding another one. I'm guessing they were talking about Clifford again, because he still hadn't shown up to eat all that kibble I'd washed for him.<br />
<br />
Sunday morning, Daddy told me it was going to be a big day! Mommy and Daddy put the bunnies into their travel kennel and I helped by whining and barking. Then we all went to get bunny-mani-pedi's and doggie-mani-pedi's at the pet store. In the store I saw my new best friend<sup>5</sup> and kept whining for Mommy to let me go say "hi." She carried me to go look at fishies instead. I've learned "fish are friends, not food," and I find it very soothing to watch them swim. I was a good boy for the mani-pedi man as he clipped my nails, and then we all went back home. Earlier that morning, Mommy had gotten out several towels and my poop bags and my travel water dish and other things, so I thought maybe we were going to the puppy park! But then they put me in my bedroom and closed the door and left the house, so I thought they'd gone to the puppy park without me. I was a little sad, because I like spending time with my hoo-mans, but I also like my big bed so I decided just to take a nap all afternoon. I guess the "big day" Daddy talked about was just getting our nails trimmed. Oh well. At least I got a bacon treat.<br />
<br />
That evening, I heard Daddy get home and so I stood up on the bed and wagged my tail when he came in the bedroom to pet me. I love my Mommy so much but it's not a well-kept secret that my Daddy's my favorite. After all I <em>chose</em> him when he and Mommy came to the puppy store to visit me. Daddy told me he and Mommy had a surprise for me in the back yard, so we ran to the door together (which we normally do anyway, because whenever Mommy and Daddy get home that always means it's potty time). When I ran into the back yard, I saw Mommy over by the garage, and... another puppy!!!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqRDbitPnWAxvgnzNychEVymShDHClwNj0JIQTljhCUaH6No0dHk5ZF7uTPOBtWLqqotlIJflCT-CmsWDfWzvt814QynYrVd4dqCMx8V2vfpfco4bLbmTSexDHNLCZz9Yq9ap/s1600/IMG_6768.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqRDbitPnWAxvgnzNychEVymShDHClwNj0JIQTljhCUaH6No0dHk5ZF7uTPOBtWLqqotlIJflCT-CmsWDfWzvt814QynYrVd4dqCMx8V2vfpfco4bLbmTSexDHNLCZz9Yq9ap/s640/IMG_6768.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me: "I'M SO EXCITED TO MEET YOU!"<br />
Robin: "I'm not sure what to think yet..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I couldn't believe it, I was so happy and so excited and so overwhelmed! I asked Mommy and Daddy and they said, yes, this was my new sister, Robin!<sup>6</sup> In all my excitement, I kept jumping and wanting to play with Robin, though she wasn't very interested in playing with me right then. As a white-furred male puppy, I don’t want to dog-splane my sister's experience, so I asked her if she'd like to write something for you:<br />
<br />
<h2>
Robin's diary</h2>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7QMvOl92RmQoEf83SXcAb0exeSGaS34NN7wqB-nRNyQeToB8WstJ6hYe8PYJ6Yl2swtIB5EDQj9xUKiDX6Lm3L2VIkaFHATkuoiwrp6xlmoL2YCa5ceueHg-dVDtEcBX8E7-B/s1600/IMG_6794.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7QMvOl92RmQoEf83SXcAb0exeSGaS34NN7wqB-nRNyQeToB8WstJ6hYe8PYJ6Yl2swtIB5EDQj9xUKiDX6Lm3L2VIkaFHATkuoiwrp6xlmoL2YCa5ceueHg-dVDtEcBX8E7-B/s400/IMG_6794.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Hi. I'm Robin. I'm a Cavachon and I'm 5 months old. I have a twin sister, whom I still miss, but I'm getting used to my new home and my big brother, Winnie (who's also a Cavachon, though we have different doggy parents).<br />
<br />
When my new Mommy and Daddy first met me in the puppy store, I let them pet me while I sat in their laps. One of them would hold me, and one would hold my twin sister, then we'd swap. Then they'd set us down and watch us play with the other puppies. I liked playing a little more than my sister. Then they held me again, talked a bit with the Puppy Man, and handed me to him. The Puppy Man took me in back and gave me a bath, which I did not enjoy, then deposited me back into my Mommy's arms. By this time I could tell something special, and different, was happening, and I was scared. I trembled, and I could tell Mommy felt so sad for me, but I couldn't help myself. I've only ever known the puppy store, and I didn't like the thought of leaving my sister behind.<br />
<br />
Mommy swaddled me in a towel and carried me outside where it was very cold. We got into a big moving box on wheels and I sat on her lap. A couple times I tried to climb off her lap, to which Mommy said something about me not understanding gravity. I don't know what that word means, so I guess she's right. But I was pretty emotionally overwhelmed and so mostly I just sat still and tried to sleep.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWuhr7UggXlGQ7oaIKB78QVetBBfFWb2AZRcD5MayAA695poWuxH8kfLxzSR3IiqsHMrJvILMcZhhVT8A3ti7sry82R0rMW0T6JzptBWV6D_l-WEuJOZI9p9OpdczRNYBvGw_c/s1600/IMG_6752.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWuhr7UggXlGQ7oaIKB78QVetBBfFWb2AZRcD5MayAA695poWuxH8kfLxzSR3IiqsHMrJvILMcZhhVT8A3ti7sry82R0rMW0T6JzptBWV6D_l-WEuJOZI9p9OpdczRNYBvGw_c/s320/IMG_6752.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mommy swaddling me at the puppy store</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After a while the box on wheels stopped and Mommy and Daddy switched spots, so Daddy was holding me. Daddy's okay but I'd already decided I like Mommy better. Daddy and I took a nap and when we woke up Mommy said we were someplace called "home." I like the sound of that word. Mostly I just liked not being in the moving box anymore. Mommy picked me up and brought me into what she called a "yard." It was very cold and there was white powder covering the ground. I found a spot right up against a wall and curled into a little ball. A minute later, another puppy came out and introduced himself. He said his name was Winnie and said how happy he was to meet me, and that I was his new best friend. I didn't know what to say. He seemed nice enough, but I was so emotionally drained from the day and just wanted some space to myself to sort through my emotions.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQGndeRAvdWKISaYkPEUHjyL97E7RQvyM4ZA6rX3C6mFuNK_lsvg1BYT7S04IghaqVJyhL5pVvVBI9Igtt67aa3UqQlV-vn_1V7-3dC3z5MseiF8_F_62sHxVqZYPuiG6mH1Lf/s1600/IMG_6777.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQGndeRAvdWKISaYkPEUHjyL97E7RQvyM4ZA6rX3C6mFuNK_lsvg1BYT7S04IghaqVJyhL5pVvVBI9Igtt67aa3UqQlV-vn_1V7-3dC3z5MseiF8_F_62sHxVqZYPuiG6mH1Lf/s640/IMG_6777.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm shy in a new place.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7EsmknnjMl7FifHl-yi-T7xDbfdi_7zMh-jG375wkGksTpiNtaalO_gEPCe7mIttG2dxBnWb0GLKVkcz3p3qzbyxgJ26jFThiGezDt0xDlBKiG4JCxv-5PZyrq_ZidigAowS/s1600/IMG_6789.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7EsmknnjMl7FifHl-yi-T7xDbfdi_7zMh-jG375wkGksTpiNtaalO_gEPCe7mIttG2dxBnWb0GLKVkcz3p3qzbyxgJ26jFThiGezDt0xDlBKiG4JCxv-5PZyrq_ZidigAowS/s320/IMG_6789.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I hide.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Soon we went someplace Mommy called "inside" and it was much warmer there. I like "inside" better than "yard." Mommy showed me two other weird-looking puppies, one was all white and one was gray and white and they had pointy ears and bushy tails, and they hopped. They were very strange puppies. It was all too much for me, I found a small corner between some cabinets and curled up into a ball again.<br />
<br />
Mommy carried me to a "kennel" and told me this was my safe space. I loved it. I sat in there and curled up with the blanket, and went to sleep. I didn't cry at all, because I knew Winnie was there if I needed a friendly puppy face. Even though I was overwhelmed, just knowing there was another puppy around really did help comfort me.<br />
<br />
When I woke up the next morning, Daddy said I was a good girl because I hadn't peed in my kennel. Well, duh, Daddy, I'm not going to pee in my safe space. (I'm going to do that in one of the other rooms. I didn't know that yet on my first day, but now I have lots of favorite peeing spots on the carpet, and I love to poop on the kitchen floor. Daddy doesn't like when I do that but I know it's the best place.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4c22UoybTVJjyvdt3v6Yr1OWS1m0Sz8PjIkecPZSx6FjuQnG8FNnQTBp6IXgCBdQMUF6qxcCzpPoWQo_diuNFRuxbJ-CMWuhiu5uj2LlbE9hhZxpycvLK2XNcmNchyphenhyphenmdQYxB6/s1600/IMG_6807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4c22UoybTVJjyvdt3v6Yr1OWS1m0Sz8PjIkecPZSx6FjuQnG8FNnQTBp6IXgCBdQMUF6qxcCzpPoWQo_diuNFRuxbJ-CMWuhiu5uj2LlbE9hhZxpycvLK2XNcmNchyphenhyphenmdQYxB6/s320/IMG_6807.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My bed, and my Lambie.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anyway, that first day, Winnie showed me around the yard, which looked very different in daytime, and told me I could have all his second-best toys. Daddy was gone most of the day - Winnie said Daddy leaves during the days to go find bacon for us; I don't know what bacon is yet but Winnie gets pretty excited about it - so I spent a lot of time with Mommy. I love Daddy, but Mommy's my favorite.<br />
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When Daddy got home later, he and Mommy left for a short time and when they came home they gave me some of my very own toys! They gave me a stuffed animal Lambie whom I love so very much, and some chewy bones because Mommy says I'm "teething." Winnie doesn't like to share his toys so it was nice to have some of my own. (we're getting better at sharing over time).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzJSNiAtYaHouF_A2Nyz7HJUbcVxYbdM1gcoFXAsafGWekAp12o6jTbSbsjUGOG43YSqIKj_TatOu_XpMSpVU-PZeK-AbSw0DqiyVRbLZjmDkQHoIIp0_hWDQ7KRZ525LoOyMc/s1600/IMG_6799.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzJSNiAtYaHouF_A2Nyz7HJUbcVxYbdM1gcoFXAsafGWekAp12o6jTbSbsjUGOG43YSqIKj_TatOu_XpMSpVU-PZeK-AbSw0DqiyVRbLZjmDkQHoIIp0_hWDQ7KRZ525LoOyMc/s320/IMG_6799.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Daddy</td></tr>
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After a day or two getting used to "home," I started to feel more comfortable and my real personality started to come out. I think I surprised Mommy and Daddy with how much energy I have. I love playing chase with Winnie, and barking at the weird puppies, and barking the neighbor dog. And I love waking up early - I have so much energy in the mornings that I can't sit still, so I like running back and forth in the house while Winnie cuddles with Daddy or Mommy. I don't feel I have time for cuddling, when there are so many toys that need to be played with! But anytime I meet someone new, like when Grandma and Grandpa Puppy came to meet me, I get overwhelmed and take a nap. Daddy says he thinks I'm an "extreme introvert" like him.<br />
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Sometimes Mommy tells me and Winnie we have to play nicer, and Daddy will say "no growlies," or "no barking," but he knows we only pretend to listen to him. It's been about two weeks since I came here, and even though I miss my sister and all my other friends from the puppy store, I do like this place called home, and I really love my Mommy and Daddy and my brother Winnie.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg98hD68yvo34U-imUnhQPJHqljqHuxG5W709TG6eApvcJyXQ9TNnrKZsbtdHHhMQBhJUVVD25NK-AMePDyWtBVFpfr4w3_r4jvoZnH_nF8AOE5TtJ7rayZNK0j77Yc85YYHEjo/s1600/IMG_6856.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg98hD68yvo34U-imUnhQPJHqljqHuxG5W709TG6eApvcJyXQ9TNnrKZsbtdHHhMQBhJUVVD25NK-AMePDyWtBVFpfr4w3_r4jvoZnH_nF8AOE5TtJ7rayZNK0j77Yc85YYHEjo/s640/IMG_6856.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my brother, Winnie</td></tr>
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<h2>
Winnie's diary, continued</h2>
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It's hard work taking care of a little puppy! I love Robin so much but no one warned me she'd have so much energy! In the mornings I just want to cuddle with my Daddy and my Mommy, but I also know it's my job to take care of Robin, so if she's off playing by herself, well I have to go supervise (remember I do all the work around the house). The first couple days I was so exhausted, I turned to Mommy and told her, "it's so much work taking care of a little puppy, you just can't understand! I know I was <em>never</em> this rambunctious when I was Robin's age!"<br />
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Even though it's a lot of work, I still love my little sister. She is very sweet and loves giving Mommy and Daddy kisses, and like me she loves licking feet. Sometimes when she calms down we get to cuddle together. Those are my favorite moments. Mostly, I'm just so happy to have a friend with me all the time. Life is good.<br />
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- Winnie<br />
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<h3>
Footnotes</h3>
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<sup>1</sup>Once, Mommy convinced me *I* was a bunny! She said, "bunnies have four paws, you have four paws; bunnies have two ears, you have two ears; bunnies have a fluffy tail, you have a fluffy tail; bunnies eat hay, you eat hay; you must be a bunny!" It's true, I do love eating hay, so I believed her! Then Mommy told me she was just joking and I wasn't actually a bunny.<br />
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<sup>2</sup>From Jeremy: the two dogs are named Cody and Brody, and they were dog-sitting a third dog for a while, whose name we never actually heard, so we just assumed it must be "Frody."<br />
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<sup>3</sup>From Jeremy: it was actually Hydroton clay pellets for our new aquaponics grow beds. See a future, not-yet-written blog post for more than you'll ever want to know about aquaponics.<br />
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<sup>4</sup>From Jeremy: "Big Grey" because dogs (and my friend Doug) are red-green color-blind.<br />
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<sup>5</sup>From Jeremy: Winnie thinks ANY and EVERY new dog he sees is his new best friend.<br />
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<sup>6</sup>From Jeremy: Winnie, as you probably know, was named after Winnie the Pooh; Robin is named after Christopher Robin, even though our Robin is a girl.Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-25917156747976443962019-10-21T15:48:00.002-05:002019-10-21T15:48:36.374-05:003D Printed Stargate: The Journey<p>On August 17, 2017, my Dad texted me this link of a 3D printed Stargate with lights and movement:</p>
<p><a href="https://www.thingiverse.com/thing:1603423" target="_blank">https://www.thingiverse.com/thing:1603423</a></p>
<p>...thus inspiring my foray into the world of 3D printing. My Dad started 3D printing several years ago, and my friend Peter even longer ago than that, so while I'd seen printers in action before, for whatever reason it never held much pull on me. I'm sure partly that was because I already had enough other hobbies that I really didn't need "one more thing" on which to spend my time (and money). At least, until I saw that moving / light-up Stargate model.</p>
<p>I knew very little about 3D printing, except that prints could take an incredibly long time. Years ago I remember when a friend and I asked Peter to print a Star Trek: Deep Space 9 station, and after the first couple layers were down, he told us it would take another 24 hours to finish! That was basically the extent of my knowledge. (I chuckle as I write that now, because many of my prints nowadays take 24+ hours).</p>
<p>Over the past couple years as Dad has gotten into printing, he's created some gorgeous gifts for my Mom and also for my wife (for instance: a vase and roses for Valentine's Day, and a Beauty and the Beast jewelry container), and has offered to print things for me, too. Knowing practically nothing of the time and effort that it takes to get quality prints, I sent him a bunch of links for stuff I'd like, like tokens for one of my favorite board games, and paint racks for my miniature painting paints (unbeknownst to me until later, getting the paint racks to print successfully was no small endeavor in experimentation, and even once Dad had the right settings, it still took a day to print each rack). It's been so much fun watching Dad get into this hobby, and to see Mom cheering him on and sharing in the successes and not-so-successes.</p>
<p>After realizing that <a href="http://thingiverse.com" target="_blank">thingiverse.com</a> held a treasure trove of Things I'd like to print, and feeling like I'd be taking advantage of my Dad if I kept asking him to print dozens and dozens of links, I decided I'd get my own printer. Besides all the other random things I wanted to print, my ultimate goal was to print that working Stargate. I asked Dad and other friends who had printers for their recommendations, and bought a Creality CR-10 in August 2018.</p>
<p>I came into the hobby rather naively (optimistically?), and grossly underestimated how much <em>time</em> 3D printing takes. I don't mean the printing itself, I mean all the behind-the-scenes overhead, like getting a level print bed (I'm convinced this is impossible), cleaning up from failed prints, replacing clogged nozzles, upgrading bits of hardware, configuring a print server (OctoPrint), or installing new firmware (which took the better part of a full day for me to figure out). When the printer is working, it's great! But there are just so many random things that come up that will suck away hours at a time. I wasn't prepared for that going into it, and definitely more than once thought "I'm never going to get this working." But Dad was always there to answer my questions and send me video tutorials and other links to help. And even over a year later I'm still asking him questions (see earlier comments about the firmware - Dad helped me a TON in navigating that experience!).</p>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78ltJ8D0eiDXwivYa-A87o-cmQ5mrTPmisfVrgT2BQx1qqljEgnC2GfOA0mXdhHRMv8P-0S89tjbLdxbcpzEJMltVtmuafCE9G9tAj8wv7T-CI0ww3kkf5ZF_Rc8GlnoJ_EXY/s1600/IMG_4225.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78ltJ8D0eiDXwivYa-A87o-cmQ5mrTPmisfVrgT2BQx1qqljEgnC2GfOA0mXdhHRMv8P-0S89tjbLdxbcpzEJMltVtmuafCE9G9tAj8wv7T-CI0ww3kkf5ZF_Rc8GlnoJ_EXY/s320/IMG_4225.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Each of these pieces took ~24 hours to print</td></tr>
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<p>Back to the Stargate project itself. According to the webpage, it has 117 parts, and some I could see were very finely detailed, so I spent a few months getting the hang of printing in general (and tweaking my settings to get better quality prints) before starting in on a project that complex. I started experimenting with my first Stargate pieces in December 2018, opting to start with the most intricate first: the backside of the gate. Each piece took roughly 24 hours to print, then I'd write a number on it, change another setting or two and try again, keeping notes along the way so I could track what gave the best results. It took me roughly three weeks to fine-tune my settings for the high level of detail, with lots of "that's not quite good enough" results along the way.</p>
<p>After going through an entire spool of filament just on my experiments, I started printing parts "for real" sometime right before Christmas. Since I'd honed my high-precision settings already, printing the real pieces was fairly straight-forward, albeit time-consuming. The creator had written "total estimated print time: 112 hours," but I don't know what settings he used that could possibly print that quickly, since (for instance) each of my nine back-side-of-gate pieces took 12+ hours a piece. All told it took me three or four weeks to print everything.</p>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYx79019x9w6l-Xw-GHs3ayOaIo41EkSLhVBDWOBMZogu7BHH3MlP65UgF8bZCoGNmcHaPDfkyLLbmcKP8t4KSPxRqicZ5-2HkXa4U9IK_LEQ8RBnBxPjntmMcPdWhyphenhyphenFZy27HA/s1600/IMG_4226.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYx79019x9w6l-Xw-GHs3ayOaIo41EkSLhVBDWOBMZogu7BHH3MlP65UgF8bZCoGNmcHaPDfkyLLbmcKP8t4KSPxRqicZ5-2HkXa4U9IK_LEQ8RBnBxPjntmMcPdWhyphenhyphenFZy27HA/s320/IMG_4226.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before trimming/cleaning</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4NzxzAX9oNukLDqMf76HqUCVj2wIdEiAyuo12CbqphTwMzhuPZZg6TVb6IDT5ibO7-3kOlVZBI0zuiwYVieWP25UdBg_h1_k3YRcQ3WfOQc_dLDFfUBL5uml-4Ekq5tA9n_po/s1600/IMG_4228.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4NzxzAX9oNukLDqMf76HqUCVj2wIdEiAyuo12CbqphTwMzhuPZZg6TVb6IDT5ibO7-3kOlVZBI0zuiwYVieWP25UdBg_h1_k3YRcQ3WfOQc_dLDFfUBL5uml-4Ekq5tA9n_po/s320/IMG_4228.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After trimming/cleaning</td></tr>
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<p style="clear:both;">In reading and re-reading the original Stargate model page, I started looking at the builds other people had posted of their Stargate construction projects. One person's in particular stood out to me because he'd expanded upon the original design to add a web page interface for dialing the gate, a speaker to play sound effects, as well as designed a custom circuit board for the electronics. He also had a more thorough set of instructions. Based on his revised design, I started ordering electronics, which was it's own very stressful journey owing to the fact I haven't done anything electronics-y since 9th grade electronics class. I remember reading the lists of required parts and thinking, "I have no clue…" - what on earth is a PCB, LDR, or a Buck Converter? (The answers, I learned, are: "printed circuit board", "light dependent resistor", and something that changes voltage so you don't fry your electronics).</p>
<p>The PCB/printed circuit board came from a manufacturing facility in China, as did all the surface mount resistors, transistors, LEDs, and the like. Dad warned me in advance "are you sure you want to do that…" because as it turns out (I should say, as he already knew, and I was about to find out), the surface mount electronics are <em>TINY</em>!
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Electronics in hand, in early January I started visiting Dad for electronics workshops. He got out his soldering equipment, including fine-point tips and tools for holding those miniature transistors in place. Dad asked me again if I was sure I wanted to use the PCB and tiny tiny tiny electronics vs a breadboard with larger, easier-to-handle pieces; I persisted because 1) the PCBs came in a minimum order of 10, so even if I messed a few up in learning, it didn't matter, and 2) I really wanted all the electronics to fit internal to the Stargate vs having to house them externally somehow. We went to work. My first solders were ugly, but functional; by the end though I could definitely see a difference in my soldering quality.</p>
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<p>By March 2nd, we'd connected together the Raspberry Pi, motor control circuit board, and Stargate PCB + buck converter, and connected the thing to the motors that would spin the gate and lock/unlock the top chevron; My Mom captured a video of me running a test program on the Pi that would just spin the motor, and me looking very excited and saying, "I drew a star!"</p>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzFFaheR678rzW60VwD6R5hainl5vXPEa4AYN2pzlf4RJlvIV-dqhS2RW22Tq9Ign3MulFfYDYD460' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<p>What on earth does THAT mean? It's an old family story - when my Dad was first getting into computer programming (in the early days of personal computers), he excitedly called my Mom into the room so he could show her that he'd drawn a star on the computer screen. My Mom lovingly said (or maybe just thought to herself), "so? If you give me a paper and pencil I can draw a star for you," until Dad explained more about how complicated the programming was, etc. Since then, it's been a comical story my parents tell whenever something looks easy but in fact took an incredible amount of time/effort. As was the case with drawing my "star"[gate].</p>
<p>The next day, I hit what I'll affectionally call one of my most frustrating "roadblocks" :</p>
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<p>You might notice in the photo that the hole from the backside of one piece doesn't line up with the hole on the left side of the front piece. It's hard to explain in words, but if you look at this next picture, you can see the Stargate pieces glue together in an overlap pattern:</p>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2aWnzhwk__tUEdNOusAHCkyBC_5J5Ni1tAqznmWNWWtGzAyQONRWt5k7nY_sxbd7aU_NTmRNhKgwNw86zSxvD0OxzsvKSlqRdyxV9zWYTkw3SGQFrtWKLCBqodwCF753br-B8/s1600/IMG_4313.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2aWnzhwk__tUEdNOusAHCkyBC_5J5Ni1tAqznmWNWWtGzAyQONRWt5k7nY_sxbd7aU_NTmRNhKgwNw86zSxvD0OxzsvKSlqRdyxV9zWYTkw3SGQFrtWKLCBqodwCF753br-B8/s320/IMG_4313.jpeg" width="320" height="236" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1179" /></a>
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<p>...and I'd superglued the overlap going the wrong direction. Had I used the original designs for these pieces, it wouldn't have happened, but because I wanted fewer visible seams on the gate I opted to use double-sized pieces that someone had posted; I never pieced together (pun intended) that these might need to be glued in a particular way. So, this was a major bummer, because it meant needing to re-print everything you see in that photo, and I was almost out of filament, and the company was out of stock of that color for the next month. Re-printing took over a week (and luckily I had just enough filament left!), and it gave me an opportunity to tweak my settings yet again to get a slightly better quality. Long after the fact, I thought of a way I easily could have worked around my gluing goof (aka, just using one or two normal-sized pieces to fix the off-set), but, I'm still happier with the end result of re-printing.</p>
<p>Between March and September I procrastinated, and I can cite a very specific reason why: I procrastinated because of my fear of failure. In this time period, I was having difficulty getting the gate symbols to spin smoothly - I could spin the ring by hand, but it would "stick" whenever I tried putting it on top of the motors (not enough torque, I guess). I was terrified of gluing everything together and then not being able to spin the symbols, and having to start over. My own perfectionism was my enemy.</p>
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<p>Finally I spent an afternoon "just doing it": I bought and sprayed a plastics lubricant in the track, shaved off some plastic from the symbol ring clips that were catching on the edge of the track (the symbol ring is five pieces glued together in a ring, with small "clips" between pieces that help hold them together), filed down the backs of those joins, and got the whole thing to spin smoothly with the motors. Whew!!</p>
<p>Next challenge: the LEDs. There are nine chevrons around the gate, and each has three surface mount LEDs. I had an evening of despair after struggling for over an hour to solder together three LEDs and their wires onto the tiny LED holder I'd printed. I had no idea at the time how to test if my soldering was even good, and I learned the *wrong* way to test is to plug directly into 12V power. "Pop!" went the first LED. I nearly cried. I couldn't imagine taking over an hour to solder each of the chevrons. I texted my Dad and he said he had tools that would help (like self-closing tweezers and the fine point soldering iron he'd had me use before). Got together with him a couple days later and boy did having the right tools make all the difference. In only a couple hours at most, I'd soldered nine sets of LEDs, and also the two strings of LEDs for the ramp.</p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0ggtPKXdEcO7vi507Ka_FWY_G10IIAeEfbiIT6U0xwR1eyLJDxnbKKnghhK7RgeUz05Ini2BRCVKxWbtzrV2wKoVZwbni55UwbDbI6D6mVD5KqxbQztuDIWhgGTSEYP4c3Kk/s1600/IMG_5939.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0ggtPKXdEcO7vi507Ka_FWY_G10IIAeEfbiIT6U0xwR1eyLJDxnbKKnghhK7RgeUz05Ini2BRCVKxWbtzrV2wKoVZwbni55UwbDbI6D6mVD5KqxbQztuDIWhgGTSEYP4c3Kk/s320/IMG_5939.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNJh8-_8zBBtruMPjxOWM2HQKJ2-fWlxVp9e4OIUkyPM9tArA7rPJDqztsQSHNP35FS7USqF8OsOMXTdQwhxsilNoP9K7ku6vFHKi93pdU5VW7z9FPnftUQBVKJSgWL87UmBC/s1600/IMG_5920.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNJh8-_8zBBtruMPjxOWM2HQKJ2-fWlxVp9e4OIUkyPM9tArA7rPJDqztsQSHNP35FS7USqF8OsOMXTdQwhxsilNoP9K7ku6vFHKi93pdU5VW7z9FPnftUQBVKJSgWL87UmBC/s320/IMG_5920.jpeg" width="320" /></a>
<p>I'd printed LED holders someone designed for the Stargate that would position them exactly under each chevron, and twisted the wires so the LEDs lined up, then glued in place. Prior to gluing, I soldered each of the LED sets to longer wires that would run out the bottom of the gate and connect to power+ground (thanks to my Dad who supplied the super thin wire!), and test connected everything into the wires coming from the PCB. I also modified the webpage and server code so I could easily turn on/off each of the LEDs using a touchscreen I'd bought for the Raspberry Pi. This made it SUPER easy to figure out which light was plugged in where later on.</p>
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<p>With all LEDs working, I began the exciting task of putting the wires and LEDs into their final position and gluing down the top pieces of the gate. I tested each as I went and surprisingly / thankfully ran into no issues.</p>
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<p>That is, until I glued the last piece down and was faced with a bundle of wires sticking out the bottom of the gate. Around this time, I realized I'd never marked which two of the eleven wires were supposed to plug into 12V power. Oops. Paranoid about frying my LEDs now that everything was superglued, I managed to use a multimeter to figure out which wires I wanted (fortunately I hadn't glued the chevron covers on, so I could still stick a probe in to touch the LED wires inside each chevron). I then marked said wires with electrical tape so I wouldn't lose them again :)</p>
<p>After testing all the LEDs "one last time," I started final assembly of the ramp base, taking time to run all the wires nicely through the little wire holders, and of course finagling/weaving all the gate wires through the base.</p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh707KNHLxDzFeQXe4ef5TaE8msEkbu5KEhu6yxCx9GOzOLWiffAdFkEcVcFnWMFOA-zuEhiZuWoCy9VA1EjEL8taKUmWcx2Qtwooq3ubAti9w_i7mUQecO1GwtBqxfSJKLRzeV/s1600/IMG_6007.jpeg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh707KNHLxDzFeQXe4ef5TaE8msEkbu5KEhu6yxCx9GOzOLWiffAdFkEcVcFnWMFOA-zuEhiZuWoCy9VA1EjEL8taKUmWcx2Qtwooq3ubAti9w_i7mUQecO1GwtBqxfSJKLRzeV/s320/IMG_6007.jpeg" width="240" height="320" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNqC7j5ug6XncqTZiptxhIQlOxNVG3vV-2X4BWgj87PQWvgPZt1FfvzZv_spMRONaMmkYsGyIcknvSkp76EPo8q5fcQRO9g4K_94bIq-nBRS-fXpJo8cl1XKbuVPjtFQvq2s70/s1600/IMG_6014.jpeg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNqC7j5ug6XncqTZiptxhIQlOxNVG3vV-2X4BWgj87PQWvgPZt1FfvzZv_spMRONaMmkYsGyIcknvSkp76EPo8q5fcQRO9g4K_94bIq-nBRS-fXpJo8cl1XKbuVPjtFQvq2s70/s320/IMG_6014.jpeg" width="240" height="320" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rqbzv5UCbiAHLi18EiccBfEFZdhHY3m6d-XWzsjun0OACAt4vcPTgipDgDIhhUMbpUF0tFci1o7OSWhIX67Hz7eO_WQnWcDi8ucetGSq19-VtPN_RWiTdxgaVb3a97nlRuLS/s1600/IMG_6022.jpeg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rqbzv5UCbiAHLi18EiccBfEFZdhHY3m6d-XWzsjun0OACAt4vcPTgipDgDIhhUMbpUF0tFci1o7OSWhIX67Hz7eO_WQnWcDi8ucetGSq19-VtPN_RWiTdxgaVb3a97nlRuLS/s320/IMG_6022.jpeg" width="320" height="240" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicVw0TadwREvsoBWg1aLPp3uj0YsjBfTzrrhkh_bFLraBOv3GucCF8dG-b4hfJ2jlEHqO2UZzz9LCt5N1QkoqxV1-pJIiZtzhh-AeGlwtzQy7tzD_4hWx6f7DoJTBn3x2He9Zp/s1600/IMG_6026.jpeg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicVw0TadwREvsoBWg1aLPp3uj0YsjBfTzrrhkh_bFLraBOv3GucCF8dG-b4hfJ2jlEHqO2UZzz9LCt5N1QkoqxV1-pJIiZtzhh-AeGlwtzQy7tzD_4hWx6f7DoJTBn3x2He9Zp/s320/IMG_6026.jpeg" width="240" height="320" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-ilbHDj-S6Dfebd-k28B41kSZYp6K8Mxv4xsFnFDiqtth5NQFUhMEvUGpjn4NyNCeX4VzOD71JewE89AZMyG7Gg9JUPeDFR1HLwCMG6BMPLseyyWXHQ6IypW96NKfpcA1w2j/s1600/IMG_6028.jpeg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-ilbHDj-S6Dfebd-k28B41kSZYp6K8Mxv4xsFnFDiqtth5NQFUhMEvUGpjn4NyNCeX4VzOD71JewE89AZMyG7Gg9JUPeDFR1HLwCMG6BMPLseyyWXHQ6IypW96NKfpcA1w2j/s320/IMG_6028.jpeg" width="240" height="320" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje3lsqHSbtMIHlTAO28SMImj5_InwrL6Qjt8tzikQchJDGndKBVS0in3j66Wxi94QBVz7p-toD6oayOJ0aAW0lNzFrq_lnBRHl5WDtMYDM9GrWR5J7y3OOMsewgZyRQd5rFcrG/s1600/IMG_6029.jpeg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje3lsqHSbtMIHlTAO28SMImj5_InwrL6Qjt8tzikQchJDGndKBVS0in3j66Wxi94QBVz7p-toD6oayOJ0aAW0lNzFrq_lnBRHl5WDtMYDM9GrWR5J7y3OOMsewgZyRQd5rFcrG/s320/IMG_6029.jpeg" width="240" height="320" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a>
<p>Fully assembled, I booted the Pi and told it to "home" the gate - if you'll recall my construction goof earlier concerning the small hole, this allows an LED to shine through the gate to the light sensor / LDR on the other side, but only when a particular symbol is lined up; that way the software knows the gate is at "home."</p>
<p>As the gate spun and spun, I discovered two issues. The first is that, despite all my efforts for a smoothly spinning track, the gate was catching in two specific spots. My worst fear. My best guess is I didn't file/smooth out the bottom side of the track enough, and/or that I hadn't trimmed off the printing brim from the gear teeth. I took the gate off, sprayed a ton of plastic lubricant in through the bottom opening and manually spun the ring to get it all around; I also propped the gate up slightly off its base, just a few millimeters, so it didn't sit as tightly on the gear. Between those two remedies, the gate began to spin fully around without catching.</p>
<p>But it kept spinning. And spinning. And never found "home". This was my second issue: I'd assembled the LED and LDR pieces on the wrong side of the gate, and because the see-through-hole was offset from center, the light was in the wrong place and couldn't shine through. It wasn't a <em>huge</em> deal, but still tedious to remove the gate again, unscrew/move/re-attach/re-wire the LED and LDR pieces. Even after lining everything up correctly, though, the LED I had wasn't powerful enough to trigger the sensor, so I went back to my local Radio Shack (whom I lovingly call "Dad") and he had a brighter LED he gave me, which worked more gooder.</p>
<p>Had a couple more issues come up, like the motors spinning in reverse direction (easily fixed by swapping two wires around), and the top chevron not moving up and down smoothly (eventually "fixed" by spraying in a TON of that plastic lubricant), but otherwise, at long last, the gate was finished! I took a video and sent it to my parents, and also of course grabbed Alissa and said "come see! Come see!!"</p>
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<p>I'm really proud of how this turned out. I enjoy projects (like this one) that are at the edge of my current abilities; I had a lot of confidence on the software side, but not a lot / any experience on the electronics side of things, but with my Dad there to guide me, it became much more manageable. I've learned a LOT from where I started, and am feeling more confident to tackle other 3D printing + electronics type projects (next up: a Star Trek Next Generation warp core). Things I worried about early on (like the seams showing between pieces of the ring) aren't nearly as visible as I thought they'd be. And I was able to make modifications to the code that I'll publish back to Thingiverse, that might help a future builder when they build their Stargate. If I do say so myself, this thing's pretty darn cool.</p>
<p>Lastly, if you're wondering how much it cost... I'll admit the number surprised me. Here's a rough breakdown:</p>
<ul>
<li>Filament: three rolls at $18 each, plus a couple other colors that I only used a bit of, so let's say $60</li>
<li>Raspberry Pi 3 B+: $56</li>
<li>Motors, motor circuit board, other electronics from Adafruit.com: $80</li>
<li>Touchscreen for Raspberry Pi: $80</li>
<li>HDMI cable: $8</li>
<li>Power adapter: 2 for $14, so $7</li>
<li>Printed circuit board from China: $20 ($2 for 10 boards, and $18 shipping…)</li>
<li>LEDs, transistors, resistors, and other various electronics from LCSC: $21</li>
<li>Superglue: $5</li>
<li>Wires, tools, solder, buck converter, other electronics and tools: free from the RadioShack of Dad</li>
</ul>
<p>Grand total: $337. (Shhh don't tell Alissa! :)</p>
Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-88280598688282424302019-05-29T12:44:00.001-05:002019-05-29T12:49:00.772-05:00Winnie the Pup<p>Anyone who's known me for any length of time probably knows that I'm not a fan of dogs. Over the years I think I've come down from a "phobia" to merely, "I'd rather not be near you," though admittedly I've met a handful of dogs that I <em>could</em> honestly say I liked (my friend Bernadett's Emma, and my Aunt Judi's Guinness and Keighley, to name a couple). So it is with utter amazement that the man who has for many years declared, "I will never own a dog!," announces that... Alissa and I got a dog:</p>
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<p>Meet Winnie the Pup (or just "Winnie" for short).</p>
<p>If you'd like the short version of how on earth this happened, I suppose I can summarize with: "he chose me with his puppy eyes."</p>
<p>For the longer version, well, settle in. I tend toward extreme verbosity in my writing, and this life-transformational-story deserves nothing less.</p>
<h2>Prelude</h2>
<p>Alissa has always wanted a dog. I have always <em>not</em> wanted a dog, something about which I made no secret during our dating and engagement, so that it wouldn't come as a surprise later. Knowing that we wouldn't <em>actually</em> get a dog, Alissa has frequently teased me with statements like, "if you get another lightsaber, I get a puppy," or adding "puppy" to our grocery shopping list. Chuckles ensued, but no puppies.</p>
<p>When we got our adorable bunnies, we did so in the hopes they might be cuddle-bunnies for Alissa. Sadly, our bunnies don't like to snuggle, they prefer to hop away. So, Alissa's desire for something cute and cuddly has remained (and while plush stuffed animals cut it for me, they don't for her).</p>
<p>A month or so ago, Alissa sent me a link to a puppy store that holds weekend open visiting hours for guests to pet all the puppies. Since the store is an hour-and-a-half drive, we picked a Saturday with nothing else on our calendar and marked the date. Leading up to the day, after telling some friends about our weekend plans, one of our friends helpfully declared (in spite of my protestations), "you're getting a puppy." I, of course, knew this wasn't ever going to happen, but took the joke in stride.</p>
<h2>The Road Trip</h2>
<p>When Saturday came, Alissa had donned her "I'm here to pet all the dogs" shirt, and also optimistically brought out the bunny carrier, because "it sure would be a shame not to have a doggie carrier 'just in case' we end up needing one..." Ha ha, you're right, Honey, but, you do know we're not <em>actually</em> getting a dog, right? "Right, but 'just in case,' we want to be prepared!"</p>
<p>While I programmed my GPS, Alissa double checked the store's hours. And good thing, because we discovered they would be closing early that day! Even leaving immediately, we'd only just arrive at closing time. Seeing Alissa's crestfallen expression, I didn't know how to "fix" the situation, but knowing that the store also took people by appointment, I gave a call asking if there was any chance they'd be willing to stay open a few extra minutes to meet us. To my relief, they said that'd be no problem! They were hosting a wedding (which is why they planned to close early), but they could stay open a little extra since they knew we were coming. Whew! We sped off toward the puppies.</p>
<p>One might wonder why I'd be willing to drive three hours just to see dogs I didn't want to buy. The answer's so simple: it meant I'd get to spend quality time with my wife, without the myriad interruptions of our busy lives. I thought of the excursion as a quasi-date, and perhaps even more importantly, I knew how happy it'd make her to play with all the "poopays" as we called them.</p>
<p>Arriving at the store, we noticed we were... under-dressed... compared to the wedding guests streaming in ahead of us. When they said on the phone they were hosting a wedding, I hadn't realized it was starting 45 minutes after we got there. After trying and failing to find an alternate door, I called back to ask, "we're here, is there another door we should use?" No, there wasn't, so we found ourselves in hoodies and t-shirts walking in behind folks in elegant dresses and suits. The lady from the phone greeted us immediately (she said we were easy to spot, since I'd said "we'll be walking in the door in 30 seconds"), and directed us <em>through the actual wedding party</em> into the back room of the store where the puppies are. Mildly awkward.</p>
<h2>The First Meeting, aka, Puppy Eyes</h2>
<p>Emerging into the puppy room we were greeting with the yipping of about two dozen puppies in a fenced play area in the middle of the room. Alissa dove [figuratively not literally] into the cuteness overload and started petting them; meantime I stayed aloof, because, you know: dogs.</p>
<p>Alissa kept asking me, "isn't this one so cute? Do you want a puppy yet?" And we talked a bit with the puppy minder, asking him about the store and the different kinds of dogs, as well as thanking him profusely for staying open late for us.</p>
<p>As Alissa enjoyed her time with the 101 poopayes in the playpen, I started to meander the room's perimeter, where there were puppies in large glass cages built into the walls. I noticed some that I said were "not well behaved," owing to their jumping up against the glass and yipping. Then, I saw one who was being very well-behaved, sitting there calmly, looking at me with puppy eyes (because of course, he's a puppy, so he has puppy eyes), and I said, "this one's really well-behaved." Alissa glommed onto that and said, "oh! you think that one's cute?!" To which the salesman said, "I'll go get him for you so you can hold him!"</p>
<p>"I– uh– um– I didn't ask to–."</p>
<p>The salesman returned and placed the doggie in my arms. He didn't bite or bark (and to my relief, neither did the dog), and so I just stood there - and eventually sat there - for about 10-15 minutes, holding this puppy and petting him. He sat so peacefully, calmly. As we sat, I learned that doggie was a Cavachon, a cross between a King Charles Cavalier and a Bichon; the Bichon breed is hypoallergenic, and the Cavalier breed was bred to be a calm lapdog for the king, which tones down some of the Bichon's hyperness. Alissa was rightfully-amazed at how long I willingly sat with puppy. Frankly I was, too.</p>
<p>Eventually, learning that the salesman was actually attending the wedding in the room next door, I returned the puppy and we took our leave (necessitating winding our way back through the wedding party). Alissa then proceeded to text our friends that I'd willingly held a dog, and if we'd have stayed longer she thinks she could have talked me into buying it. Meantime, I proceeded to have an hour and a half of severe allergy attacks (due to there being a thousand and one puppies in the room, and it being legit rural Minnesota farmland, and it being allergy season in general).</p>
<h2>The following week</h2>
<p>I'll be honest, I did like that dog. As we drove home, Alissa told me that while I was holding the dog and asking so many questions about it, she took it as a sign of 'Jeremy might actually get this dog!' before realizing that it was more like, 'Jeremy is a naturally curious person and likes to ask lots of questions, but it doesn't necessarily mean anything.</p>
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<p>The following days, Alissa kept checking the website and letting me know "Perfect Puppy" was still available. Unbeknownst to her, I also was secretly checking the website, quietly breathing sighs of relief when I saw his photo pop up day after day. I can't explain it.</p>
<p>Alissa also sent me a bunch of links to read about Cavachons and general puppy care/training. Most of our conversations that week began with me saying, "we're not getting a dog, but hypothetically, if we did...". We covered such ground as who would let the dog out, who would clean up the doggie poos, how would this work when we go on vacation, what are our ideas about training, if we got this particular puppy would you say it's "Jeremy's dog" instead of "ours," and so on. Alissa also helpfully kept offering, "would you like me to go pick up Perfect Puppy for you? I can go tonight!"</p>
<p>As I pondered how having a dog would make Alissa so happy (as one of her lifelong dreams), and how having a cute little doggie-that-looks-like-a-live-stuffed-animal-teddy-bear sitting on my lap while we watched TV would also make <em>me</em> so happy, somewhere around Thursday I think I crossed the 50% threshold between "no puppy" to "yes, we can eventually get a puppy". Considering my journey had started at a solid "0% / no way!", I think that was pretty incredible progress, and all thanks to a cute little puppy with his emotive puppy dog eyes.</p>
<p>My biggest concern, then and now, is how much <em>time</em> a puppy might take. I already feel at-capacity on my time-budget, so adding "one more thing" is, frankly, an extremely intimidating proposition. I read a lot of articles, and finally phoned my Aunt Lisa - who trains service dogs - to ask more about training and time commitment, and was comfortable enough with the answers she gave me.</p>
<p>All day Friday I spent hemming-and-hawing, culminating in what I might describe as an anxiety/panic-attack Friday evening. At issue were my conflicting desires of wanting Perfect Puppy, knowing Perfect Puppy could possibly/probably get sold this weekend if we didn't snatch him up now, but knowing we're NOT AT ALL prepared for a dog (I mean this in a pragmatic sense: no kennel/food/toys/etc), and also fearing that all my already-limited free-time would get eaten up by having another pet, but also not wanting to have raised Alissa's hopes so far just to back out at the last minute, AND, having promised the bunnies we'd take them to Hoppy Hour, only to bail on them again at the last minute (yes, I know the bunnies didn't <em>really</em> understand that, but still). I was an emotional mess, trying to sort through all of that. God bless Alissa, she stayed with me for an hour while I tried to figure out my life. It wasn't pretty.</p>
<p>Eventually, I made my decision: let's go get Perfect Puppy. I called the pet store, set up an appointment in two hours, and we headed out. Alissa had the presence of mind to bring some extra supplies - like a towel and package of large pet potty pads for the carrier. Within a few minutes, we were on the road.</p>
<p>When I'd called the store, the puppy man asked me if we wanted to see any others than the Cavachon from last week (pretty sure he remembered us as "those people" who made him run late to the wedding and didn't even buy a dog!); so, along the way, Alissa looked through the website of puppies, and as we talked through each breed we narrowed in on wanting to see the other Cavachons, the pure bred Bichons, and some "Teddy Bears" of a breed mixture I don't recall. I called back the puppy man (who, when answering, consistently sounded so shocked that his phone had rung - it was amusing to me) and he said, yep, no problem, he'd have them all out for us to look at.</p>
<p>Our drive was largely uneventful, EXCEPT FOR driving past what is <em>literally</em> one of my worst recurring nightmares: a road that goes underwater. Shudder! Due to rush hour, my GPS had us taking some back roads to avoid traffic; and due to all the flooding, we passed an intersection where the road off to the right of us went straight down into a river. For years I've had nightmares about driving into a water-covered road of unknown depth, so this was a most unwelcome sight to see so close-up in real life!</p>
<h2>The reunion</h2>
<p>We arrived at the pet store on time, and went into the puppy room where there were now only eight puppies instead of the several thousand from last time. Perfect Puppy and two other Cavachons were sitting calmly, while the Bichons and Teddy Bears were jumping and yipping. While good to compare, the Cavachons' docile nature pretty much cemented the deal. Puppy Man placed Perfect Puppy in my arms, and we sat for a little bit. Perfect Puppy was so cute; he looked at me with those puppy eyes, and asked me if we were going to take him home. Alissa and I re-confirmed that yes, we'd like this puppy. We told Perfect Puppy we were going to name him "Winnie the Pup", and then I handed him back to Puppy Man who said he'd give him a quick bath before we took him home.</p>
<h2>Winnie's Perspective</h2>
<p>Pff, pff, I don't like baths! I think I swallowed some shampoo. Pft! Oh, but I feel so clean now, and I look so fluffy and pretty!</p>
<p>Mr Puppy Man leads me back to the door to the playroom, and when I run through I see the new humans who were holding and petting me. One of them tells me they're bringing me to my "forever home" - I'm not sure what that means, but the way he says it it sounds like it's a good thing.</p>
<p>The man holds me in his arms while the woman writes on papers for Mr Puppy Man. He's telling them all about me, and I recognize a picture of myself and my mommy; he says something about "up to date on shots" and that I already have something called a "chip." I'm just a puppy so I don't understand what all of that means, but I do know I'm feeling very loved by the man holding me. He's smiling such a big happy smile. And I know because I just had a bath, that I'm looking my absolute best for him.</p>
<p>He crouches back on the ground and says I should say goodbye to everyone. I don't quite understand, but I think that means maybe I'll be leaving the store now, like some of my other friends who have left with other humans. I will be sad to leave all of my puppy friends - they are my family! But I do want to make these new humans happy, so I will put on a strong face for their sake.</p>
<p>I'm carried out into a larger room I've never seen before. There are toys everywhere! Wooden rectangles with carved shapes (I think the humans call them "letters" and "words"), towels that look like they'd be fun to pull on, little glass sculptures with different colors, sitting on a shelf just waiting to be knocked onto the floor for puppy play-time!</p>
<p>While the man holds me, the woman hands Mr Puppy Man a small plastic rectangle and he hands her a bag of my favorite puppy food and what looks like it might be some treats! I don't really know what those are yet, but my nose says they're probably tasty.</p>
<p>Mr Puppy Man has started talking to some other humans who just arrived, about one of my other friends who was in the playpen with me a few minutes ago.</p>
<p>My carrying human puts me down on the floor and they ask me to walk into a plastic box. I don't know how I feel about this. It's kinda dark and scary in there. But I'm a brave puppy, and I want to be a good puppy, too, so I go into the box thing, and before I know it the box is being lifted off the ground and I'm being carried outside! The air is so fresh out here. Soon, though, my box is inside again; I seem to be in a small room that rumbles like a hungry puppy tummy, and it starts to move when it rumbles! I can feel the room moving backwards, now forwards, now turning to the right, and now I'm sliding back against the wall of my box because the room is moving faster and faster.</p>
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<p>The humans are talking, and the woman is sitting next to my plastic box. She opens the plastic box fence so she can reach in and pet me. I can tell she really likes me, too, and is excited that I'm in this plastic box in the rumbling, moving room with her.</p>
<p>I'm starting to feel funny. My tummy is hurting... Now there's something in my throat. Oh no, I'm going to–</p>
<p>Oh no :( I think I just threw up that shampoo I swallowed :(</p>
<p>The moving box is slowing down, and stopping. The humans are talking to each other, and the woman is trying to wipe my face. I'm not feeling well at all, and now I'm feeling even worse because I was so nice and clean and looked so pretty, and now I've ruined my clean fur :( I was trying so hard to be a Good Puppy, but my tummy hurt sooo much!</p>
<p>She's still wiping me down, and the big moving box has started moving again. Uggghhh, I'm not feeling very good again...</p>
<p>I'm such a little puppy, and leaving my home and puppy friends is really stressful, and I'm not used to riding in big moving boxes on wheels. I'm trying my best to be Good, I hope they can understand. I'm really sad that I ruined my clean fur, but the humans don't seem to be mad at me.</p>
<p>The light outside is going away - that means it's past Puppy Bedtime, but I'm still awake, and still a little scared.</p>
<p>The rumbling sound is getting quieter, and I think we've finally stopped moving. The humans are saying those words "forever home" again, and picking me up to smell the fresh air again. It's dark, and I can't really see, but I seem to be on some grass. The grass is wet, so as I run around to sniff and explore, it's like I'm getting another bath, but with no shampoo this time. I think my fur is getting cleaner now! The humans are so excited to see me running around and having fun. I wonder what new adventures I'm going to have here!</p>
<h2>Closing thoughts</h2>
<p>Back to Jeremy's voice again.</p>
<p>With my Mom retiring from 44 years of teaching this past week, I hadn't wanted to detract from that with puppy stuff, so I suspect it was more than a little surprise when I texted her a photo of her son (me), a man who has for years hated dogs, suddenly holding a puppy! I think our neighbors, and my Aunt and Uncle, also could not have been more surprised. Perhaps hell really has frozen over.</p>
<p>What has surprised me the most, is how easily I've acclimated to a puppy licking treats out of my hand (something I would NEVER EVER have pictured myself being comfortable with), or dealing with puppy accidents on the carpet, or praising Winnie for pooping on our lawn. I don't think I've ever in my life shocked my Uncle more than when he saw me sitting on the dining room floor holding and petting Winnie. I can't explain it - I really love this puppy (I mean, Alissa really loves him, too, but it's my blog so I'm focusing on my own experience).</p>
<p>As for our how our bunnies are handling this change... well, they maybe love Winnie a little less than we do. Winnie looks at them and seems to say, "these are some weird looking puppies," while the bunnies say "that's a weird looking bunny!" The bunnies sometimes thump a leg at Winnie, as if to say, this is our territory (for any fans of <em>The 100</em>, perhaps you'll find humor in something else the bunnies 'say' when we pretend to talk for them: "You are Bun-Kru, or you are the enemy of Bun-Kru!"). And at least once I saw Winnie startle the bunnies so that Luke and Daisy literally jumped into each other mid-air. It was simultaneously hilarious, and also frustrating, since we don't want Winnie scaring the bunnies. But as I sit here writing this, Winnie is sitting by the bunny fence, and the bunnies are casually coming up to sniff him, then hopping away. So I believe there is hope.</p>
<p>Thus concludes the first chapter of bringing Winnie into our lives. As Winnie said, I wonder what adventures we're going to have!</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsavEw73dF9iXhsL1r-_TEaiXXrWaYDqNoScLZzIojKIhwFWEMXVti94jUyQ1VTx-uz4vhoeMzatDi5RoiC5qHEuQ9wCo8LLYEY8DGAJkOu5YzEIOUJjsB3XNvlrUx9I6rS4fb/s1600/IMG_4730.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsavEw73dF9iXhsL1r-_TEaiXXrWaYDqNoScLZzIojKIhwFWEMXVti94jUyQ1VTx-uz4vhoeMzatDi5RoiC5qHEuQ9wCo8LLYEY8DGAJkOu5YzEIOUJjsB3XNvlrUx9I6rS4fb/s320/IMG_4730.jpeg" width="320" height="240" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1200" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxXdZAZeuli4XwPYxvijxnA93B6qHwG72kAIPfayCUugTsnmtr7-_HE-Gft0XXlnUrLx1AWO-vjF7UZQtJAJqmztaFpQH9_HH-dZBDpn44TxdNUvfk80zXpfP-x-WcUa6gJ2KG/s1600/IMG_4750.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxXdZAZeuli4XwPYxvijxnA93B6qHwG72kAIPfayCUugTsnmtr7-_HE-Gft0XXlnUrLx1AWO-vjF7UZQtJAJqmztaFpQH9_HH-dZBDpn44TxdNUvfk80zXpfP-x-WcUa6gJ2KG/s320/IMG_4750.jpeg" width="320" height="240" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1200" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpoi9IZUX83bukQjDzTBFWkv7I_aPtuj_NixiXQCulNnoRZdraIDjhK6n_0aCGNqnm2ivNiYG7MWlTKgRAb-5xuOq5L_FtW0XMhoo2ge6O1P_YawXPA0fiSFZARsIi2s0iS4HR/s1600/58050627841__75F786F6-A04B-4E82-8BC5-750FB93B2342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpoi9IZUX83bukQjDzTBFWkv7I_aPtuj_NixiXQCulNnoRZdraIDjhK6n_0aCGNqnm2ivNiYG7MWlTKgRAb-5xuOq5L_FtW0XMhoo2ge6O1P_YawXPA0fiSFZARsIi2s0iS4HR/s320/58050627841__75F786F6-A04B-4E82-8BC5-750FB93B2342.jpg" width="240" height="320" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY2zBic_rUPNnkLrojpDtxAFCeF82XB1wvgm1vLeZxG3XtehB8CxV3aF3pdh11toJrsQtbULLsFfES79SaS5viah3uBfw8YvfnJtC46t5SZxqdurkzzEifIlxlAwV7HhHe17NS/s1600/IMG_4745.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY2zBic_rUPNnkLrojpDtxAFCeF82XB1wvgm1vLeZxG3XtehB8CxV3aF3pdh11toJrsQtbULLsFfES79SaS5viah3uBfw8YvfnJtC46t5SZxqdurkzzEifIlxlAwV7HhHe17NS/s320/IMG_4745.jpeg" width="320" height="240" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1200" /></a></div>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-83946909267578791752018-12-14T10:48:00.001-06:002018-12-14T10:48:56.987-06:00Thoughts on "Breathe"<p>When I transferred to Minnehaha Academy as a tenth grader and began experiencing school chapels after an up-to-then lifetime of public education, one of the songs frequently performed by the worship team was "Breathe." I didn't care for it from the get-go, because, well I can't quite explain the emotion but it's something like, I thought the lyrics far too simple and obvious ("this is the air I breathe" - "well, yeah, what other air are you gonna be breathing?" I'd ask). But worse, the song came to be sung so often (or perhaps I mean to say, "forced upon us") that it wasn't long until I developed some feeling of animus against it. Hearing the opening notes of "Breathe" could instantly drop me out of worship mode. Here was a song I thought ought be relegated to the annals of Christian music history, a case-study of early contemporary Christian musicianship, but no longer worthy of airtime in "real" worship.</p>
<p>In college, I more or less doubled down on this position.</p>
<p>A few years post-college, I started revisiting my hostility. I'd always maintained that the responsibility for providing a worshipful environment lay solely at the feet of the worship leader / team, but the question was posed to me (by someone, I don't remember who) of what responsibility the worship-<em>goer</em> has toward preparing their own heart in advance of showing up. I continue[d] to mull on this, particularly on the rare Sunday nights that Upper Room would foist good-ol' "Breathe" upon me. Could it be that <em>I</em> bore some personal responsibility for opening my heart wide enough that even "Breathe" could become worshipful again? (or put more Jeremy-bluntly: is it my job to find moments of worship even with poorly made song-selections on the worship planner's part?) It took a while, but I think I've come to the conclusion that, well, yes.</p>
<p>Before reaching that conclusion, though, as a stop-gap, whenever "Breathe" reared its head I would take the opportunity to pray on my own, sitting and disengaging from corporate worship and instead focusing on my own heart and spiritual journey. Ever so slowly, my heart continued/continues to soften toward "Breathe." I still think it was overplayed to the point of ad nauseam years ago, but... now when it encounters me, I'm able to find deep value in some of the words, the earnest desperation that I, too, often feel deep inside:</p>
<blockquote>And I, I'm desperate for you<br />
And I, I'm lost without you</blockquote>
<p>Last week, a coworker with whom I frequently exchange music videos, and who had no idea of my storied past with "Breathe" (until now!) sent me this link, commenting, "Oh my, this is so beautiful..." And I've reached a point where I can agree. This is the most beautiful rendition of "Breathe" I've heard, and I'll commend it to your listening (and prayerful) pleasure:</p>
<iframe width="854" height="480" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/k5w7MgTgVVs" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen></iframe>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-46502425301837188722018-11-15T07:54:00.000-06:002018-11-15T07:54:04.744-06:00Listen<p>Three years ago today, Minneapolis police murdered <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shooting_of_Jamar_Clark" target="_blank">Jamar Clark</a>, an unarmed black man, younger than I. As has become typical in such cases in present-day America, no charges were filed against the white officers. Let me say that again so it sinks in: Jamar's murderers are <em>known</em>, but never faced charges or a trial.</p>
<p>One year ago this evening, having recently found myself connected in a Kevin Bacon way to Jamar's life, I felt drawn to attend a two-year memorial/remembrance gathering. Unbeknownst to me until parking my car, Jamar was shot just blocks away from North high school, where I attended in 9th grade (my somewhat traumatic experience that was North High is a topic better discussed in-person, rather than online).</p>
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<p>I admit some trepidation as I walked to where Jamar was killed; there were perhaps 75-100 or more people gathered, most with different skin complexions than mine, gifting me another rare moment in my life in which I found myself the minority. Someone was handing out candles; I took one gratefully, as the temperature was cold and the candle helped [slightly] to warm my hands. Unfortunately it was also windy, so despite my efforts, my candle did not last long. (I noticed I was not alone in my candle struggles)</p>
<p>On the boulevard stood a cardboard sign with Jamar's name, accompanied by candles and a few teddy bears. People held signs. Someone wore a hoodie with names written on it; as I read I realized it was a list of other police murder victims from the past several years, including local victims <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shooting_of_Philando_Castile" target="_blank">Philando Castile</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shooting_of_Justine_Damond" target="_blank">Justine Damond</a>.</p>
<p>Standing alone, I waited, and pondered my place in this; "this" being, among other things and in no particular order: white privilege, living with a local government that allows its employed protectors to kill without serious repercussion, my own confused emotions from attending North High, my feeling of "should I even be here?", and just trying to take in the experiences of the moment. And I was also focused just on trying to stay warm - it was very cold outside. I struggled to imagine the dedication of those who camped in front of the police precinct for 18 days after Jamar's murder.</p>
<p>My notes from a year ago tell me the event started with someone singing, though I no longer remember the song. This was followed by a short and emotionally powerful speech by a white woman, challenging the white people in the crowd that "we have to do better."</p>
<p>Jamar's parents, both biological and adopted, gave speeches, vastly different in tone from one another. I scribbled two phrases that caught my emotions. From the former, as best I can recount it: "Jamar is still here and alive in each of you. We don't mourn the dead; we celebrate his life in each of you who showed up." And from the latter, Jamar's adopted father described how Jamar was killed: shot through the eye at point blank range, leaving black gun powder residue around his face. Understandably, Jamar's father was - to put it mildly - <em>angry</em>. Hearing his not-so-subtle disparaging remarks toward the police was eye-opening to me.</p>
<p>Throughout the speeches, any pauses were filled by a man in the crowd yelling "Listen!" It struck me as odd the first time, then as it became a refrain, I realized in an abstract sense, he might be speaking to me (as a white person who's never given much thought to my own role in "this"), though I think it was an even more generic plea simply for these stories to be <em>heard</em>.</p>
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<p>When the speeches finished, the North High marching band began to play, and our vigil took over the street, marching two blocks to stop in front of the fourth precinct. What struck me most powerfully was that we had police cruiser escorts during this march, blocking the street so we could walk safely. With conflicting emotions difficult to convey in words, I was awe-inspired to live in a society in which the very organization against which we were peacefully protesting, was at the same time protecting our right to assemble / protest. The SUVs both in front and in back of the march maintained a respectful distance as we walked, and again I found myself simply trying to process the experience.</p>
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<p>Reaching the fourth precinct, there were chants, I think along the lines of "what do we want?" Justice. "When do we want it?" Now. A young black man initiated his own rallying cry: "I say Jamar, you say Clark! Jamar!"<br />
"Clark!"<br />
"Jamar!"<br />
"Clark!"<br />
And so on.</p>
<p>A small group assembled with a portable PA to 'sing' a rap song (I suppose if one knew the song, the lyrics might have been understandable; I found it unintelligible due to the poor microphone + speaker, and lack of volume from the singers).</p>
<p>Finally, we returned, again with police escort, to the spot of the shooting. Emotionally full, I took the opportunity to head home.</p>
<p>A year later, I still reflect on this experience with uncertainty, specifically of what <em>my</em> social responsibility is. Meager awareness is perhaps a starting point but I doubt that can also be my ending point. Yet, I struggle to know what else, besides awareness, I can actually <em>do</em>. In the meantime, another year has gone by, Jamar's murderers continued to walk free, and in our country over another dozen unarmed black men have been killed by police. (<a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/graphics/2018/national/police-shootings-2018/?noredirect=on&utm_term=.e3ee4f5cce97" target="_blank">Source</a>)</p>
<p>It's time for all of us to listen.</p>
<hr />
<p>P.S. Since drafting this blog post a week or two ago, I listened to the book <em><a href=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hate_U_Give" target="_blank">The Hate U Give</a></em> by Angie Thomas, which follows the story of a black teen who witnesses police shoot and kill her childhood friend at a traffic stop. Alissa had recommended the book to me some time ago, though I hadn't known the subject matter until I started reading, nor of course how incredibly timely it would be on this particular week. Though a work of fiction, the story tells <em>truth</em> in a way I think more white people need to be willing to hear. If you have an opportunity to check out the book, or the movie that just came out a month ago (on my todo list), I can't encourage you enough to do so.</p>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-59718177032020306872018-11-06T10:39:00.002-06:002018-11-06T10:39:59.806-06:00Anniversary gifts to Alissa<p>Alissa and my two-year anniversary was Sunday, and because I'm rather proud of the gifts I made for her, I thought I'd write a short post to brag.</p>
<p>The first hand-made gift was a no-sew fleece blanket featuring Belle, Alissa's favorite Disney Princess:</p>
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<p>The second gift is the one over which I'm really giddy: 3D-printed bunnies, hand-painted to look like our real ones:</p>
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<p>My Dad got a 3D printer a year or two ago, and has been printing up a storm of 3D gifts ever since. Inspired by his 3D printing, I bought my own printer (a Creality CR-10, for anyone interested) a couple months ago and have been printing my own storm: various accessories for board games I play, as well as decorations for Alissa's classroom (specifically: a TARDIS, a couple elephants [school mascot] and an apple), and other miscellaneous stuff.</p>
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<p>A couple weeks ago I found some cute bunny designs on Thingiverse.com and printed those; I gave Alissa the first one as an impromptu gift, which she loved and immediately placed on display near our bunnies' cage. Then I got to thinking about printing another set and painting them to look like ours.</p>
<p>My miniature painting hobby was inspired a year and a half ago after I discovered <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZUsfAtyEM0&list=PL6xOeNhrVj9to2nKZjk5H8OAQbG9izBrH" target="_blank">Sorastro's Star Wars: Imperial Assault painting tutorials</a> on YouTube. Imperial Assault is one of my most favorite board games, and excited by the prospect of painting my miniatures (and by how easy Sorastro made it look), I started investing in paints. I'll post photos of my painted minis sometime, because I'm pretty happy with how most of them have turned out. But, point being: I had all the requisite paints for the 3D bunnies.</p>
<p>The trickiest part was getting a reasonable color for the ears - I never could quite match the bunnies' iridescent pink/salmon-ish color, so settled for the slightly more deep pink/reddish color you see in the photos. The other tricky bit was feathering the gray patches of fur, so there weren't stark lines of white vs gray. After painting the gray splotches (using a slightly darker gray for Daisy's fur than Luke's), some rough dry-brushing with a white dry paint did the trick. After spraying with a protective matte varnish, I also applied a gloss varnish to the eyes and noses. It was a fun little project and even more fun being able to surprise Alissa with these cute little critters :)</p>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-58273989718881382352018-11-03T21:32:00.000-05:002018-11-03T21:32:18.125-05:00Honeymoon adventures<p>Since many family and friends have been asking about our honeymoon, I thought I'd capture some of the stories while they're still fresh in my mind.</p>
<p>"Wait a minute, Jeremy, didn't you get married almost two years ago?" you ask. Yes, you are correct. We got married November 4, 2016, and were planning to go on our honeymoon the following summer (2017), but for various reasons that didn't end up working out. So, we gave it another shot for summer 2018. On a related note, special thanks to Chris at <a href="http://www.skadstravel.com" target="_blank">Skads Travel</a> for all her work making our trip come to fruition. She did a great job!</p>
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<p>"Now wait just another minute, Jeremy, what do you mean 'travel agency'? Those still exist?" Yes, they do, as a matter of fact! Knowing that I too easily fall into the trap of "analysis paralysis," I advocated early on in our planning that I wanted to work with a travel agent who could find flights and activities for us, rather than needing to do all the research myself; I knew myself well enough to know that if I dove into all that research, I would have ended up pretty grumpy about the trip, and I wanted to enjoy myself instead. Working with Chris was great: we gave her a list of cities we wanted to visit, some rough travel dates, then she found us flights and hotels and activities, gave us some simple eye-doctor-style choices ("one or two", "two or three"), and off we went.</p>
<p>"Now hold on just a —" Nope, enough interrogation for the moment, on to the stories!</p>
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<h3>MSP TSA</h3>
<p>We started our European odyssey on Saturday, July 28, heading to the airport for an evening/overnight flight from MSP to Edinburgh, via Amsterdam. While going through TSA my stuffed animal monkey (Becca) was frisked by an agent who suspected her of smuggling contraband. We had a good chuckle about this and the agent was even friendly enough to pose for a photo with Becca.</p>
<p>For our first flight, I'd learned our seats were to be right in front of the lavatories (due to airline changing the plane and us losing the original seat selection Chris had made for us), but this turned out to be a blessing in disguise. There wasn't a smell (my biggest concern), nor was the traffic to/from the lavatories loud or distracting. Most importantly, we were actually able to recline our seats (I thought we'd be butted up right against the wall, but fortunately that wasn't the case), and even better, could do so without any guilt of inconveniencing the people seated behind us. It was like we had our own little "nook" in the plane.</p>
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<h3>Edinburgh, Scotland</h3>
<p>After a short layover in Amsterdam, we arrived in Edinburgh and took a bus to our hotel (about a half hour ride, and it dropped us conveniently less than two blocks from the hotel, for a fraction of the price of a private transport or taxi). Our room was small, which made sense since we were in the center of town where I imagine space is at a premium, but since we basically were only in the room at night, the lack of space wasn't a big deal.</p>
<p><strong>Some highlights of Edinburgh:</strong></p>
<p>Down the block from our hotel were a plethora of gift shops peddling Scottish-branded touristy things, but most importantly: shortbread :) I even found some gluten-free shortbread for Alissa. We also discovered vegetarian haggis (which we did NOT purchase, but found amusing nonetheless).</p>
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<p>During our hop-on/hop-off bus tour of the city, we passed by the Elephant House (where the Harry Potter books were "born"), briefly toured the science museum (sadly it closed shortly after we arrived), saw preparations being made for the Military Tattoo, took a short hike up one of the nearby hills, and saw countless posters advertising upcoming theatricals (the most interesting title I remember was "Famous Puppet Death Scenes").</p>
<p>Our third day in Scotland saw us hopping on an early morning bus ride into the highlands toward Loch Ness. All told it was a 13-hour trip, with stops every couple hours to stretch our legs and purchase food/drink. Our driver/tour guide taught us about Scottish history on the way, which was made more interesting for the fact we were actually driving through some of the areas where the battles he was describing had been fought. Sadly we did not see Nessie while we were out on the Loch; since I know 99% of people who visit do actually see her, I was a bit disappointed that she'd decided to sleep all day when we were there. However, the highlight of the trip for me was seeing the scenic hills/mountains of the Scottish highlands, which I remembered with great fondness from my high school trip to the UK.</p>
<p>That final evening as we walked back to our hotel, we encountered a trio of buskers called The Spinning Blowfish, and watched their bagpipe + electric guitar + drums performance for a little bit.</p>
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<h3>Amsterdam, Netherlands</h3>
<p>The following morning we packed ourselves off for Amsterdam, and took the underground from the airport to our hotel (our hotel was built OVER the train station, so from our room [10th or 11th floor] we could see the trains coming and going). It was about a one block walk from the train station exit to our hotel entrance, and in that one block we were nearly run over by the bike traffic. Oh my goodness the bikes. Take the ratio of bikes and cars in Minneapolis, flip those numbers, and that's how many bikes Amsterdam has - they're everywhere, they rule the roads, and they show no mercy. (and just like in Minneapolis, stop signs don't mean a thing to bikers).</p>
<p><strong>Some highlights of Amsterdam:</strong></p>
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<p>The Anne Frank house. (You have to buy tickets months in advance, and our amazing travel agent did just that) This was my reason for wanting to visit Amsterdam, having not too long ago read the book and seen the movie. I think we spent just shy of two hours walking through the house. It feels wrong to say we "enjoyed" it, so the best description I can offer of seeing the rooms, <em>experiencing</em> the space where these families lived, is that it was "very moving." Though I generally avoid writing political commentary, walking through Anne Frank's story does challenge me to wonder about the parallels between the rise of Nazi xenophobia and our current political climate.</p>
<p>After leaving the Anne Frank house, we grabbed lunch and hopped onto a hop-on/hop-off boat tour; unbeknownst to ignorant-me until we arrived, Amsterdam is full of canals! While our boat took us around the city, we became stuck in the middle of - wait for it - a boat traffic jam. For half an hour. We never did know for sure what happened (since they were speaking in Dutch, and we couldn't see what was going on) but as best we can tell, a boat's engine broke down with the boat blocking traffic, and for whatever reason the emergency responders weren't allowed to board it to help (I <em>thought</em> I overheard someone saying if they boarded then the owners would be charged for services, but I'm not sure I understood correctly). After semi-serious jokes from other impatient passengers asking why we couldn't just disembark by climbing over the other boats parked next to us, finally the broken-down boat got a tow and traffic began flowing again. I cannot say I was wow-ed by Dutch efficiency.</p>
<p>We escaped the don't-hop-off-boat and at some point did a hop-on bus tour, followed by meandering the streets on a scavenger hunt for dinner. We examined menus at a fancy-looking (read: expensive-looking) restaurant as the hostess tried convincing us to eat there; I wasn't thrilled with the menu so we kept walking, but after walking away and checking out other restaurants, I came to realize I liked that first one the best, and most importantly they had some Alissa-friendly food options. Reminding myself this was our <em>honeymoon</em> and it would be <em>okay</em> to splurge on a dinner here and there, I suggested we return. This became a precedent for my behavior toward at least two other dinners/restaurants later on in our trip (Jeremy says "no", Jeremy decides he was wrong, we both go back to the first place and eat yummy food). Anyway, if you find yourself visiting Amsterdam, we can both highly recommend the <a href="http://www.seasonsrestaurant.nl/en" target="_blank">Seasons Restaurant</a>. Oh, and I also impressed Alissa with my Norwegian language skillz when I said "thanks" and "have a good day" to the Norwegians sitting next to us, as I had to ask one of them to move so I could get out from our table.</p>
<p>Post-dinner we wandered around trying to find a juicery I'd spotted the night before, but by the time we found it (silly me hadn't written down a name or address) it was already closed. Oh well. We got a good walk in, at least!</p>
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<h3>Hamburg, Germany</h3>
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<p>We arrived in Hamburg the next day, and our hotel was (as my Grandma would've said) "very deluxe." Our room was huge, and included a full kitchen (sink, dishwasher, microwave, fridge, pots/pans/dishes). They also heard it was our honeymoon, so they left some bubbly wine and cookies for us :) And downstairs in the breakfast nook they had 24/7 coffee/tea available. After settling in, we took a walk through a nearby park and found a tapas restaurant for dinner ("tapas", Alissa taught me, are small plates of shareables, so you get several and eat family-style).</p>
<p><strong>The highlight of Hamburg:</strong></p>
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<p><strong>The</strong> reason we added Hamburg to our itinerary was to visit <a href="https://www.miniatur-wunderland.com" target="_blank">Miniatur Wunderland</a>, the world's largest model train exhibition. I highly encourage you to spend a couple minutes glancing at their website to get an idea, because this place is so much more than model trains - city after city after city constructed in HO-scale, with tens of thousands of painted miniature figurines, autonomously driving cars+trucks, a fully-functional miniature airport, a 30,000 liter tank of water with boats, and so on. Every 15 minutes, the lights throughout the building fade through sunset to night, and miniature LEDs turn on in the cities (especially striking in the Las Vegas display). In one town, there is a "fire" a few times per hour, for which a half dozen fire trucks peel out of their fire station with lights flashing and sirens blaring. In Pompeii, the volcano erupts every 15-20 minutes and "lava" flows down the side. The Alps in Switzerland cover two floors, floor to ceiling. And throughout, there are hundreds of push-buttons visitors can use to trigger scenes, like a road worker using a jackhammer, or an amusement park ride, or a chocolate factory that dispenses a real piece of chocolate to eat.</p>
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<p>There are also some fun easter eggs: for instance while I watched the planes take off and land at the miniature airport, the Millennium Falcon came in for a landing and taxied to a gate, and a few minutes later, the space shuttle Enterprise also landed and was greeted by half a dozen firetrucks on the runway. In a different area, there was a button simply labeled "Banana", which lit up a small cave in which were some Minions, complete with cave-paintings of more minions.</p>
<p>No matter how cool I thought Wunderland was going to be from the photos and videos (seriously, check out this <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ACkmg3Y64_s" target="_blank">5-minute promotional video</a>), it <em>far exceeded</em> any and all expectations I had. I was utterly blown away. We spent six hours there, which was more than enough time for Alissa, and not nearly enough time for me (though I will admit a certain feeling of "awesomeness fatigue" set in after a while - it takes energy to keep being amazed over and over and over). I would love to go back and spend about two solid days there to admire everything.</p>
<p>For more photos, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10100490946496485&type=1&l=5bfaa3e51f" target="_blank">check out this Facebook album</a> I created of only Miniatur Wunderland photos (which represents approximately a full third of all photos I took on our honeymoon).</p>
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<h3>Nice, France</h3>
<p>Our hotel in Nice was two blocks from the beach and had plenty of restaurants nearby. Our first night for dinner I ate escargot (for the fourth time in my life, so I knew I'd find it tasty). And our third night (in another instance of "find a restaurant, walk away, walk back and have yummy food") I had... a pizza. In my defense, we were very close to Italy so it was very very good pizza. And I was ready for some comfort food by this point in the trip.<p>
<p><strong>Some highlights of Nice:</strong></p>
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<p>Our first full day we took a day trip to Monaco; our driver picked us up in front of our hotel (and he was so happy with us for being outside on time for him - I guess we were a rarity), and along with another family we rode a couple hours over beautifully scenic hills. On the way we stopped at a hillside touristy-town where we walked up and down hilly steps/stairs, ate some delicious eggplant for lunch at a restaurant near the top of the hill, and got somewhat lost in the maze of ups and downs of steps on our way back to the van. Once in Monaco a short drive later, we had two one-hour blocks of free-time to walk and explore different parts of the city/country, before heading back to Nice.</p>
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<p>I forget if it was on the way to or from Monaco, but along the way one of those directions we stopped to tour the Fragonard perfumery. To my surprise, this was one of my absolute highlights of the trip, in particular the perfume <s>tasting</s> sniffing, because it was remarkably similar to sniffing wine as part of a wine tasting (of which Alissa and I have been taking lessons from my aunt and uncle). I had never in my life thought I'd get excited about perfume, but, it was really fun trying to pick out the individual <s>flavors</s> smells in each of the samples; also, fun fact: to cleanse the nose's palette(?) between samples, we sniffed coffee. Who knew?</p>
<p>The following day, similar to other cities, we did a hop-on/off tour in Nice itself, which included dipping our toes into the Mediterranean sea. This didn't last long, as the beach was made of rocks and was rather uncomfortable on the feet!</p>
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<h3>Barcelona, Spain</h3>
<p>We flew to Barcelona on what we discovered is officially (possibly actually) the worst airline in the world. When we checked in for our Vueling flight and Alissa asked why the flight was delayed (mechanical issue? weather? something else?), the ticketing agent literally said "On-time doesn't exist with Vueling." Later reading online reviews of the airline was... amusing.</p>
<p>In any case, we did eventually arrive safely in Barcelona, which I think ended up being my favorite city that we visited. (Miniatur Wunderland was my favorite <em>attraction</em>, but Barcelona as a whole was my favorite city). What I appreciated most about it was the streets - Barcelona was a planned city with square blocks and straight streets, sidewalks wide enough for 10 people abreast, and reasonable traffic signals that didn't try to get you run over by cars or bikes (like was the case in, say, Amsterdam). And, though I don't have specific evidence to back this up, Barcelona <em>felt</em> like there was so much more to do (whereas some of the other cities I felt like, "we've done enough now.")</p>
<p>I've often been asked if we saw any Gaudí architecture, to which I reply, "yes, we saw a lot of gaudy architecture" (I wasn't a Gaudí fan; sorry).</p>
<p><strong>Some highlights of Barcelona:</strong></p>
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<p>This hotel also was "very deluxe," with sparkling wine waiting for us in the room, our own patio/porch area, and a VERY nice breakfast buffet (all the hotels had great breakfast buffets; this one just went far above and beyond).<p>
<p>We ate a lot of tapas in Barcelona, as there were so many great restaurants near our hotel. The hop-on/off was also quite enjoyable, and we once again got a chance to visit the beach and dip our toes in the sea, followed by a delicious sea-side lunch (immediately before the skies opened up with a thunderstorm! Thank goodness the hop-on bus came quickly).<p>
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<p>My favorite activity was a day trip to a nearby vineyard where we learned about their wine-making process; I may not be recalling all the numbers correctly, but it went <em>something</em> like this: their oldest grape vines are 200 years old; early in the grape-growing season, they choose to pick and discard like 80% of the grapes from the vines, so that the remaining grapes get all the nutrients; they hand-harvest their grapes and again discard a high percentage of imperfect bundles. In the end, they produce only about 30,000 bottles per annum, and I learned that winemaking is definitely more of a passion/art than a money-making business. We got to ride through the vineyards then tour the machinery room and aging rooms, filled with huge barrels of their different wines. Finally we concluded with a wine-tasting of four of their wines.</p>
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<p>But wait there's more! After wine tasting #1, we went basically across the street to their other facility where they make Cava (sparkling wine from this particular region of Catalonia/Spain), had a whole 'nother tour of their wine-making and aging process (underground tunnels filled to the brim with wine bottles), followed by a tasting of four sparkling wines. At both this tasting and the earlier one we had great conversations with our table mates (there were about 16 people in our tour bus, and then four per table at the tastings). Having gone past the lunch hour with only nuts and crackers to nibble, by the end of this second tasting we were both a little tipsy; fortunately that's why we had a bus driver :)</p>
<br />
<h3>Athens, Greece</h3>
<p>Less than a month prior to our trip, there were some major Greece fires (say it out loud, it's punny) 20 miles from our hotel in downtown Athens, so we were worried those might impact our travels; Fortunately, they were contained/put out/over/dealt with by the time we landed.</p>
<p>For the first time on our trip we took a taxi instead of public transit to get to our hotel (the <a href="https://www.dorianinnhotel.com" target="_blank">Dorian Inn</a>), which was a slightly hair-raising adventure owing to our driver's intimate relationship with the center lines on the road. As we were planning our trip, I'd had no strong opinions about hotels other than this one, because it was where I'd stayed on a high school trip to Athens many years ago, and it had a rooftop pool and restaurant with a view of the Acropolis. What I hadn't realized until we neared the hotel, was that the neighborhood has gone downhill since 2001 (or perhaps was never a great neighborhood to begin with, and I'd just been oblivious as a teenager). This opinion was first confirmed in our taxi: as I watched our approach on my GPS and was saying to Alissa "we're just a block or two away now", I had also noticed the streets outside were looking a little... rough; simultaneously, the driver locked the doors. Great sign. Later, Alissa checked our guidebook and learned that it actually recommended avoiding this particular neighborhood altogether, or at least after dark. Well, bummer. The hotel, though, was a very solid three-to-four stars, clean, another great breakfast buffet, and delicious food at the rooftop restaurant.</p>
<p><strong>Some highlights of Athens:</strong></p>
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<p>Our first night we walked to a neaby Bulgarian restaurant that was well-reviewed on Yelp, and learned that just because Google Maps labels a road as "yellow" (aka a more major road), that isn't necessarily true; we walked through some sketchy alley-roads on our way there, so we took a different route back. What saddened me the most about Athens is just how run-down the city feels, graffiti everywhere, sidewalks crumbling in some places, it was just very sad. But, the food at the Bulgarian restaurant was indeed very very good and worth the walk.</p>
<p>The next morning we rose early to catch our all-day island-hopping cruise, which was a true delight. We visited three islands, got to walk around and see touristy things; on one of the islands Alissa started petting a cat and was quickly accosted by several more cats wanting love and attention. Apparently public cats are a thing in Greece, where entire communities own the cats instead of individual families, so I don't think any of these were ferrel.</p>
<p>Arriving back at our hotel, we ate dinner on the roof and enjoyed a beautiful view of the Parthenon all lit up at night.</p>
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<p>Speaking of the Parthenon, the following day we actually got to visit it! (and Alissa tired quickly of my constant refrain "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HUVBXb4XIqE" target="_blank">They say of the Acropolis where the Parthenon is..."</a>; I got quite a chuckle when our next day's hop-on/off tour bus mentioned the "no straight lines" bit and Alissa just glared at me :) What a tremendous view of the city from up there, too.</p>
<p>We ate dinner at a small place called "Vegan Nation" which had vegan+gluten-free foods that were quite tasty. And back at the hotel took turns enjoying a massaging chair near the business center. A couple times we visited the rooftop pool, too, which was surprisingly cold (given the exceptionally hot air temperatures while we were there!) and it took a while to acclimate into the water.</p>
<p>Our last day in Athens we purchased a hop-on/off bus ticket and set off around town, seeing all the things, and taking a stop at the Acropolis Museum. We ate some gelato in the hot afternoon sun, then later in the evening went out for dinner and a wine tasting with a local tour guide (it was just him and us, so we had a great conversation and learned so much about current Geek culture).</p>
<p>When we got back to the hotel, we napped for a few hours, before waking around 2 a.m. (yep, you read that right) to do our final pack and meet our airport taxi.</p>
<br />
<h3>Homeward bound</h3>
<p>Our first flight (Athens to Amsterdam) was delayed, significantly enough that we worried we might miss our connection. When going through immigration (out-igration?) in Amsterdam, I asked the traffic director if we could get into the "short connections" line even though our connection time was technically 10 minutes too long, and fortunately they waved us right into the fast lane, so we had no issue getting to our gate by the time they started boarding.</p>
<p>We slept and watched movies and held hands, sad to see our honeymoon be over.</p>
<p>My parents picked us up at the airport, and when we arrived home we found Luke and Daisy had printed a sign saying "welcome home from your Bunnymoon"; and on our bed, Pooh had a welcome home balloon and a sign that read, "welcome home from your hunnymoon".</p>
<p>The end.</p>
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Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-66640619280832390542018-09-13T14:15:00.003-05:002018-09-13T14:15:56.011-05:00Musings on online dating<p>A friend recently posted on Facebook asking for "words of wisdom, musings, or general thoughts to share regarding online dating," and, probably suspecting that I might have some of the above, he tagged me in particular; that served as good motivation to dust off one of my mostly-written-but-hadn't-quite-finished-it blog posts from a couple years ago and finally git 'er dun.</p>
<p>Before embarking on a treatise about dating, I think it's important to acknowledge that waiting, not knowing when or if you will meet the person who may become your future spouse, sucks. It just plain sucks. Unless you've made peace with it, in which case, kudos to you. For a much better-than-mine essay about the realities of singleness (particularly as they're ignored by most married people on Valentine's Day), I encourage you to check out this article: <a href="https://web.archive.org/web/20170606113235/www.redbudwritersguild.com/three-realities-of-singleness-ignored-on-valentines-day/" target="_blank">https://web.archive.org/web/20170606113235/www.redbudwritersguild.com/three-realities-of-singleness-ignored-on-valentines-day/</a> (the original article was no longer available, but thankfully archive.org had a copy!)</p>
<hr />
<p>Now on to <em>my</em> essay.</p>
<p>One of my friends and mentors went on 63 first dates before meeting (and later marrying) his wife. While I only reached one third that number of first dates, I figure that I still learned a few lessons worth sharing during my journey toward meeting my "forever woman".<sup>1</sup></p>
<p>In typical Jeremy conversational fashion I suppose I'll begin with a disclaimer: these are my opinions, and I'm always right. Wait, wait, wait, what I <em>meant</em> to say is that these are my opinions, and I'm <em>not</em> always right. Dating looks different for everyone, so this is only a list of lessons I think <em>I've</em> learned, and attitudes that <em>I</em> found to be healthful along the way.</p>
<br />
<h2>The most important lessons</h2>
<p>I've made so many mistakes<sup>2</sup> in my dating and relationship career<sup>3</sup> (as well as heard plenty of stories from friends!) that I'm finding it difficult to pick one nugget of wisdom as the "most important" lesson-learned. If hard pressed, though, I'd say it's this: <strong>asking someone out for a date is exactly that. It's *not* a marriage proposal, or even a commitment to a second date.</strong> It's a single [pun not intended] date, with the goal of getting to know each other better to see if either person even is interested enough to consider planning a second date. Going into a date with this mindset relieves an unbelievable amount of stress. (For more on <em>why</em> I believe that, cf my previous blog post: <a href="http://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2014/08/why-i-kissed-dating-hello.html">Why I Kissed Dating "Hello"</a>, in which I highlight the awesomeness of this article: <a href="http://www.thomasumstattd.com/2014/08/courtship-fundamentally-flawed" target="_blank">Why Courtship is Fundamentally Flawed</a> by Thomas Umstattd. Also check out the book <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/How-Get-Date-Worth-Keeping/dp/0310262658" target="_blank">How to Get a Date Worth Keeping</a></em> by Dr. Henry Cloud<sup>4</sup>, and a great essay I found called "<a href="http://www.relevantmagazine.com/life/relationships/how-christians-ruin-dating" target="_blank">How Christians Ruin Dating</a>.")</p>
<p>For me, following the advice from Cloud's book (to ask out as many people as possible, so I could get to know as many different kinds of people as possible, so that I could better discover which traits actually were important to me and which weren't) primarily took the form of online dating on eHarmony. But in addition I also asked women out at church (which in my opinion is a better place to meet people than a bar, but again that's just my opinion), gave my phone number to at least one waitress, and petitioned countless friends if they knew anyone they thought might be a good match (special shout-outs to my neighbors Megan and Michael, and my friends Maggie and Christine, who each took me up on that invitation and set me up on dates with some of their coworkers and friends!).</p>
<p>Living into my philosophy of "it's just a date" took away almost all of the sting when facing rejection. Many of the women I asked out said "no," and though I wasn't very skilled at receiving that early on, after a while it became much easier. Especially with online dating, when someone I messaged didn't respond or blocked me, I learned pretty quickly just to move along and not take it personally. Remembering all the women I myself blocked because I didn't like something on their profile made this moving-on much easier. Eventually I figured out that I should never have to convince anyone into going out with me. If they're not in the same mindset (for example, maybe they were in Camp Courtship), then the time isn't now. If she said "no," I [eventually] learned to be gracious and say "thanks" anyway. While certainly not everyone appreciates being asked out, I *think* most people (both genders) at least find it flattering (as long as you're not creepy or a douche about it). As one woman said to me, "it's always nice to be taken out and treated like a lady."</p>
<br />
<h2>First dates</h2>
<p>For the ones who said "yes," where we <em>did</em> get to go out on that first date: I learned that I should avoid going into the first date with our grandchildren's names already picked out. Instead I found it beneficial to set my expectations only on things within my control. For example, if I was meeting my date for dinner, then my expectations going in would be, "I expect to eat dinner." Notice what's <em>not</em> on my expectation list: having a great conversation, setting up a second date, falling in love, etc., because all of those are beyond my individual control. This comes with the added bonus that, if we <em>did</em> have a great conversation, and set up a second date, then I exceeded my expectations! Who doesn't like saying "that went much better than I thought it would!"? To be clear, this doesn't mean I would go into a date with no <em>hope</em> - certainly I <em>hoped</em> to meet someone I could enjoy spending time with! My point is that I set my sights on what was within my own power to control, and not dependent on anyone else.<sup>5</sup></p>
<p>Contrary to what popular culture says, I thought it absolutely was important to talk about religion on the first date, at least in a broad sense. Diving into deeply sensitive and highly charged theological issues wasn't on the menu, but asking what church she went to, how involved she was or wasn't, and what she valued/disliked about that church, I considered to be fair game. There aren't any right answers to those questions, I just think it's important to make sure both people are at least playing in the same ballpark<sup>6</sup>, even though it's unlikely we'd agree on every minor theological issue that would come up in later conversations.</p>
<p>Some first dates went terribly. Sometimes conversation was awkward, we couldn't find any common ground, or I saw some other red flag.<sup>7</sup> My solution was simple: I didn't ask her out again, and prayed to God she didn't mention "getting together again" while we were still talking in-person, before I could safely ignore her messages from the comfort of online. Was that the most mature solution? Nope. I'm not proud of it. I should have learned better from one girl I went out with, who, after I asked for a second date, politely said, "no thanks, I don't think we're a good match," and there were no hard feelings. Eventually I got better at this, but to be honest my preferred method was avoidance.</p>
<p>Other first dates went swimmingly. Or at least, "fine." My general rule on a first date was that if I saw no red flags, I'd 'make the ask' for a second date. Like I said earlier, sometimes my date would decline, but usually she'd accept. My reason for this very conscious decision, is that on date #1 <em>most</em> people (men and women) are overthinking and overanalyzing and as a result not really being themselves. On a second date, that awkwardness is out of the way, making more room for real conversations that matter. So if I thought she was at all interesting and again, no red flags, I'd try to set up that second date right away at the end of the first date, before we parted company.</p>
<br />
<h2>Second dates</h2>
<p>Surprisingly, at least to me, more than a couple times I'd ask for the second date, she'd agree, and then hours or days later, she'd cancel on me. I never figured out if it was something I said, or if it had nothing to do with me at all. For example maybe she, like me, was going on dates with multiple people at once, and maybe another one of those dates took off into an exclusive dating arrangement. I'm also not unwilling to consider that perhaps she prayed, God answered, "not him," and she moved on.<sup>8</sup> Who knows. Point being, cancelations happen, and you move on.</p>
<p>A related word on interpreting cancelations. I learned that when someone (I believe this applies to both genders) cancels or declines your plans, and doesn't offer an alternative time - for example, "I'm not available Sunday" - that should be interpreted as "I'm not interested." Alternatively, if s/he offers an alternative - for example, "I'm not available Sunday, but Monday could work" - that should be interpreted as a positive sign, because they are trying to make something else work. This applies when asking someone out for a date (initially or for subsequent dates), as well as acquaintanceships where there is no intention of romance.</p>
<p>I also want to call out something I mentioned in passing two paragraphs ago: in my opinion, it's perfectly acceptable to schedule dates with multiple people, up until one of those dates turns into an exclusive dating arrangement (by whatever label you want to call it: dating, relationship, courtship, exclusive, etc). My friends and I call that moment the "DTR": "define the relationship." I'll again commend the article I mentioned earlier, <a href="http://www.thomasumstattd.com/2014/08/courtship-fundamentally-flawed" target="_blank">Why Courtship is Fundamentally Flawed</a> by Thomas Umstattd, which delves further into that issue, but I'll summarize it with this quote from the article:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>When my grandmother dated in middle school (yes, middle school) her parents had one primary rule for her.</p>
<p><strong>The Primary Dating Rule:</strong> Don’t go out with the same guy twice in a row.</p>
<p>So if she went out for soda with Bob on Tuesday, she had to go to a movie with Bill on Thursday before she could go to the school dance with Bob on Saturday.</p>
<p>That sounded crazy to me. So, I asked her the rationale behind it. She explained that the lack of exclusivity helped them guard their hearts and kept things from getting too serious too quickly. The lack of exclusivity kept the interactions fun and casual. "The guys wouldn’t even want to kiss you!" She said.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Lastly, regarding second dates, third dates, fourth, etc: I think it was my friend Pam who taught me, "always compliment her on something on each date," whether that be her hair or smile, and also non-physical traits, like, "you seem cheery today!" or "that's a fun outfit." I admit, I never really got good at this, I'm just passing it along because it seems like sound wisdom.</p>
<br />
<h2>The "right" person</h2>
<p>I've long held to the belief that there is not one and only one specific "right" person for me; rather there are a bunch of different right persons, and life together with any one of them could look beautiful. Vastly different, because each individual is unique and therefore each possible relationship equally unique, but nevertheless each carrying potential for a lifelong partnership. For me, I replaced the question, "are you the right person?" with, "are you <em>a</em> right person for me?" And equally important, "am <em>I</em> a right person for <em>you</em>?"</p>
<br />
<h2>Availability</h2>
<p>Years ago, I told my friend Joe that I wouldn't consider my life complete or successful if I never had a family. He challenged me that I was putting God into a box by dictating to God my conditions for the only possible way I would be happy, rather than having faith that God could bring happiness into my life even if I remained single forever, or never had kids. This provoked a many-years-long prayer, "God, please prove Joe right and prove <em>me</em> wrong."</p>
<p>Eventually, I more or less got to that point, where I could see the joy in my life's future, regardless of marital status. It helped knowing I could also adopt kids as a single parent, if that was the direction life brought me.<sup>9</sup> As part of this journey, I spent considerable time examining my own emotional health and ensuring that I was <a href="http://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2015/09/fully-baked.html">ready to date</a> / seek a relationship. This included making sure I was "over" previous relationships, or at least, as "over" it as I could be.</p>
<p>Not everyone I dated seemed to hold this same philosophy. Twice it happened that a woman I went out with decided she wasn't over her ex. The first time this came up, fortunately we'd only had one date, and so while I was disappointed (we'd had a pretty great first date), it wasn't emotionally crushing. As for the second woman who did this, we'd had several dates and many lengthy emails, and I had fallen for her. Coming to terms with her rejection was a very painful and emotionally expensive experience.</p>
<p>This led me to a very important lesson: before asking anyone out on a second date, double check that they're emotionally available.</p>
<p>To quote from one of my absolute favorite books, <em>Boundaries</em> by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend:</p>
<blockquote>Dating is a means to find out what kind of person we complement, and with whom we are spiritually and emotionally compatible. It's a training ground for marriage. This fact causes a built-in conflict. When we date, we have the freedom to say, at any time, "this isn't working out" and to end the relationship. The other person has the same freedom. What does this mean for the person who's boundaries have been injured? Often, she brings immature, undeveloped aspects of her character to an adult romantic situation. In an arena of low commitment and high risk, she seeks the safety, bonding, and consistency that her wounds need. She entrusts herself too quickly to someone whom she is dating, because her needs are so intense. And she will be devastated when things don't work out. This is a little like sending a three-year-old to the front lines of battle. Dating is a way for adults to find out about each other's suitability for marriage, it's *not* a place for young, injured souls to find healing. This healing can best be found in non-romantic arenas, such as support groups, church groups, therapy, and same-sex friendships. We need to keep separate the purposes of romantic and non-romantic friendships.</blockquote>
<p>There's also the issue of physical availability. I chose to pursue long-distance dates with women in southern Minnesota, Iowa, India, and Australia (Skype and Facebook Messenger calling and FaceTime are all wonderful inventions), and even though long-distance relationships have their own set of challenges (time zone differences and unreliable Internet connections being among them), I found these to be some of my most rewarding and exciting relationships. You might ask, "why on earth would you want to date someone from halfway around the world???" That's a fair question, with a very simple answer: the accents. Also because my friend Ann started dating her now-husband while they lived in different states, I figured why limit myself to only my city? But mostly: the accents. As for the question, "how would that work out?", the answer is one of us would have had to consider moving. For example, India Girl had already planned on moving to the US in the next few months/years; and as for Australia Girl, well, I confess spending a few minutes on Australia's immigration website looking at what their requirements were.<sup>10</sup></p>
<p>Beyond ensuring my own emotional health, part of my "making sure I'm ready to date" posture was making sure I actually had room in my calendar to go out on dates (time availability), and that, overall, I was happy with my life. This is because, as my friends Hannah and Richard pointed out to me, <strong>being in a relationship brings out all the stuff you need to work through, and if I'm not happy with my own life to begin with, how should I expect to bring someone else into that?</strong> (I bolded that because on reflection I think that tidbit might compete with the "most important" lesson I highlighted at the beginning).</p>
<br />
<h2>Rejection, and Prayer</h2>
<p>During my dating adventures I faced a lot of rejection from nearly all stages (the only rejection I <em>didn't</em> get, fortunately, was when I finally proposed to Alissa - she said yes :). Early rejection on the dating site wasn't too traumatic - like I said before there were plenty of women whose profiles I hid for one reason or another, and some who attempted to initiate communication with me and I chose not to respond. Even asking someone out in person and being declined, kinda stings but after enough practice I found out it wasn't the end of the world.</p>
<p>What <em>did</em> start to hurt was going out on a really awesome date with someone I was really excited to get to know, and then being declined for a second (or third, or fourth) date. What stung even more, was [at least twice] not being chosen in a competition I didn't even know I was competing in: between me and her previous boyfriend. And what stung the most, was falling in like over three weeks of dating then ultimately being rejected because I refused to agree that homosexuality was sinful, which she decided was a deal-breaker because "how would we raise the children?" (this is a true story).</p>
<p>I think it's true for me to say that, in the aftermath of every rejection, I prayed. Earnestly, passionately, tearfully. "God, when? When will I finally meet Her? If not <most recent heartbreak's name>, then whom?" I also prayed for miracles of emotional healing, for God to dull the pain or take it away. This did happen a couple times, where, having emotionally exhausted myself the previous night, I woke in the morning with the ability to say (and mean it), "if that relationship isn't going to be, then I'm excited to meet the woman with whom it <em>will</em> work out." This hope for the future came from recognizing my own pattern: every time I fell for someone, I found her to be in some way even more amazing than the last relationship. Therefore I supposed that whomever God might have me meet <em>next</em>, I would likely find her to be yet more amazing still.</p>
<p>Keeping a focus on prayer while dating is something I wish I'd done better at. I mean, I didn't completely suck, but I could have done better. It's weird to think about online dating in such terms, but I tried (when I remembered) to ask God into that experience, helping me connect with the women who could help me grow as a person (or eventually, connect with the woman I'd marry), and to avoid (or be avoided by) the women who maybe weren't as great a match for me.</p>
<p>Two months before I met Alissa, I had a dream in which my future wife (unknown to me at the time) challenged me with this question: "how will you help me grow closer to God?" It was a fascinating question, one I actually had considered before, but had back-burnered. I think it's an important question to ponder in any human relationship.</p>
<br />
<h2>Why I chose eHarmony</h2>
<p>Before eHarmony, I tried a few other online dating sites without much success.</p>
<p>OKCupid is free, but my experience was that users weren't serious about pursuing romantic relationships, they were on the site more to find friendships or email buddies, neither of which were what I sought.</p>
<p>ChristianMingle gave me my two worst dates of my life. (feel free to ask me about it, I think they're funny to talk about now)</p>
<p>Match.com I never used myself, but having heard negative reviews from friends and a coworker about the quantity of fake profiles, I wasn't interested.</p>
<p>I ultimately chose eHarmony because, despite it being expensive, I'd heard one first-hand success story (a former teacher of mine met her now-husband on eH), and a few second/third-hand success stories. It was the right decision for <em>me</em>.</p>
<p>As I got into using eHarmony, I discovered other perks I liked about eH over the other sites. The biggest perk, for me, was that instead of writing "cold call" messages (in other words, having to create something witty and engaging to write to the other person, based on nothing besides what can be read on their profile), eH provided what they called "guided communication." This process started by sending one's potential match five multiple-choice "get to know you" questions, like, "on a Friday night would you rather... Go bowling, Go to the movies, Hang out with friends, Sit home and relax", or "what's your idea of a romantic date... A walk on the beach, a candlelit dinner, making dinner together, a movie", etc. eHarmony provide 20-30 questions from which to pick, and then the other person will either respond to those by answering them and sending five questions back, or they'll never be heard from, in which case I didn't waste HOURS agonizing over writing a cold call email (seriously, it literally took perfectionist me hours to compose even the shortest of messages on OKC).</p>
<p>After volleying the 5-Qs back and forth, the second guided communication is "makes & breaks" - a multiple choice list of attributes each person sees as deal-makers and deal-breakers. Generally my experience was this stage was a formality, because everyone's lists more or less looked the same. Every now and then I saw something interesting, but typically this stage was more importantly a step to say "yes I'm still interested in getting to know this person."</p>
<p>The third stage is short/long-answer questions, like, "describe your faith," or "what's your relationship like with your parents," or "what's an important lesson you learned from a previous relationship." Again each person chooses which questions to send, or there is a place to write custom questions.</p>
<p>Finally, after both users answer the short-answer questions, eHarmony allows the initiator (whomever sent the first set of five questions) to write an actual "eHarmony Mail" to the other person, and by this point I found there was almost always at least SOMETHING interesting from the question & answers to make message writing easier and feel more natural. Also I valued that, by this point the other person was at least <em>somewhat</em> interested in hearing from me, because otherwise she wouldn't have spent her time answering and sending questions back and forth.</p>
<p>In addition to providing this guided communication, eHarmony's other major selling point (for me) was that they only gave 5-10 matches a day; after those 10 people, you're 'done' for the day. This was huge. A drawback I think of Match and others is that there's never a finish line, it's always, "but what if my perfect person is on the *next* page of search results?" eH took that worry away by giving me an ending point for each day.</p>
<p>Lastly, I'll simply state that I had great conversations with almost every woman I went out with from eH (if memory serves, I think I only had 1 "bad" date from eH). Even if we didn't have a relationship in our future, we still had good talks and I learned much along the way. In at least one case, after deciding we weren't interested romantically, we maintained a friendship for a year or two, sharing new dating stories with each other and asking advice. As well, two of my now-favorite musical groups (Two Steps From Hell, and similar solo projects from Thomas Bergersen) were suggestions from "girl #3" many years ago. What I'm trying to say is that the matching algorithm eH used seemed to be pretty good at pairing me with women with whom I'd at least have *something* in common; might not be the case for everyone who uses their service, but it was true for my experience.</p>
<br />
<h2>Advice about online dating in general</h2>
<p>Perhaps the most "real" advice I received about online dating came from my friend Ann, who told me I'd need to devote at least an hour every day if I was going to be serious about it. This seemed excessive to me when she first said it, but Ann was absolutely right; while reading new profiles took only a few minutes, responding to communications (whether the 5 questions or short answer essays or especially the full-length eH mails) could easily consume an hour or more each evening. Possibly some might call that time wasted, though I'd contend it was more of an investment (in addition to the financial investment I was already making in eHarmony). Any case, I mention this because the time requirement was, to me, one of the most surprising aspects of online dating.</p>
<p>A couple years ago, in reflecting on my own journey, I made a list of other practical advice I'd like to offer to my friend and anyone else embarking on the online-dating road (though admittedly most of this is just reiterating the standard stuff you'll find in other opinion pieces around the web).</p>
<ul>
<li>plan to spend 2-5 hours in order to set up a quality dating profile; also, the more pictures you upload, the better; choose also a variety of angles & environments - headshot, torso, full-body, group shots with friends, etc</li>
<li>once you start communicating with your matches, plan to spend at least an hour a day or more on answering questions/mails, and looking at new matches. I never believed my friend when she told me how much work online dating takes, but it does take a serious time commitment. That's not to scare you away, just letting you know it's not something that will only be like 5 minutes a day.</li>
<li>dating can become expensive if you let it; when suggesting a date, you don't always have to do dinner/lunch (and even then, it's up to you if you pay for both of you or go Dutch, as long as that's communicated in advance). You can also do activities that are free and still fun, like walks in the park, window shopping around the mall, outdoor street/music festivals/shows, etc.</li>
<li>have standards, but be open to going on a first date with someone who may be on the periphery of what you thought you were interested in. I'll once again commend the book <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/How-Get-Date-Worth-Keeping/dp/0310262658" target="_blank">How to Get a Date Worth Keeping</a></em> by Dr. Henry Cloud.</li>
<li>try not to take it personally if someone you were interested in doesn't respond, or blocks you. I'd guesstimate that less than 5% of the women to whom I sent 5 questions ever responded, and of those only a handful resulted in an actual in-person date. It's a numbers game. One of my guy-friends joined eH and then was SUPER picky about who he'd send 5Qs to (like, on the order of one woman a week). I wasn't surprised when he complained to me that he wasn't having any success. On my end, I would send 5Qs to anyone I thought looked even remotely interesting, probably a few dozen each week. Like I said, most didn't respond, but of the ones who did and with whom I messaged and eventually went out, we had a really great time.</li>
<li>following on to the above two points, if you do see a [figurative] red flag on someone's profile, it's okay to block them and move on; this is also why I didn't take it personally when the same happened to me, because who knows what red flags she might have seen on my profile - you should never have to try to <em>convince</em> someone to go out with you.</li>
<li>if, during a first date, you decide you're interested in a second date, say so; and try to pick a time before ending the first date. While there is the risk that a lot of people aren't good at saying "no" (so they might cancel later, or might cancel for reasons not at all related to you, like another date they went on has developed into something more), I still found it very effective to "make the ask" for the second date before ending the first one.</li>
<li>try to avoid putting all your hopes and dreams for the future on one person; it's unfair to both you and them.</li>
<li>find a reasonable-to-you balance between going on dates, and investing time in your existing friendships and family. They're the ones who'll still be there to reassure you when a date/relationship goes south.</li>
<li>lastly, something I didn't do and in retrospect wish I'd done more of: trusting God in the process. I wish my prayers were less like "when will I meet my 'one'?" and more like, "please introduce me to the right people at the right time to develop healthy connections, and help me to learn and better myself along the way." In other words, I wish I could have looked at dating more as a journey of self-discovery / self-improvement, rather than a destination to which I needed to run.</li>
</ul>
<p>Those are *my* thoughts ; some may work great for you, others may not, and that's okay. Do what makes sense for you.</p>
<p>That's probably a high enough word count for this post. I've oft been accused of being too wordy, so, my apologies for not taking time to write a shorter essay.</p>
<hr />
<p class="small"><sup>1</sup> My friend Anne introduced me to a turn of phrase I find just beautiful: "forever man" and "forever woman." It's inspired by a Dixie Chicks song called "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RW6RJKBvmyI" target="_blank">Lullaby</a>."</p>
<p class="small"><sup>2</sup> When I use the word "mistake," I'm using this definition:</p>
<blockquote class="small">"It is a decision in which one or more of the factors is known to be dangerous, or poisonous, or compromising, but which we calculate will not keep us from achieving our goals. But when there is no foreknowledge of such factor in evidence, can it be called a mistake? If you walk out on an empty field, and the ground suddenly gives out beneath you, and there was no way to predict it, was any part of your decision making a mistake? No."<br />- Admiral Cha Niathal, from the book <em>Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi: Backlash</em> by Aaron Allston</blockquote>
<p class="small">Under this definition, a lesson-learned need not ubiquitously be predicated by a "mistake" (though many certainly are). In other words, when I say "mistake," I mean not "I <em>should</em> have known better," but rather, "I did know better."
<p class="small"><sup>3</sup> When I say "career," I mean it simply as a realization and acknowledgement that <em>I</em> am the single common thread in all of my past failed relationships, and therefore it's worth exploring whether and how I grew from those experiences. Some of those lessons are helping me now, in my married life.</p>
<p class="small"><sup>4</sup> Incidentally, Dr. Cloud also wrote <em>Boundaries</em>, which is another favorite book (and discussion topic) of mine.</p>
<p class="small"><sup>5</sup> The same rule comes into play in many areas of life. For example, if applying for jobs, don't set a goal/expectation of "I will get a job within the next month." Rather, set a goal/expectation that "I will send out X number of resumes in order to give myself the best chance at landing an interview, and then a job." See also the "practice expectation management" paragraph on my <a href="http://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2014/10/life-lessons-ive-learned-or-a-letter-to-my-18-year-old-self.html">Life Lessons Learned</a> blog post.</p>
<p class="small"><sup>6</sup> See what I did there? That was a sports metaphor.</p>
<p class="small"><sup>7</sup> When I say "red flag," I mean "deal-breaker." Like, they smoke, or are codependent, or have no ambition for their life (not the same as still searching for a dream job - that shows that there's at least some thought given toward the future), or they're vegetarian and they would insist on you becoming vegetarian, too. A red flag isn't the same as a yellow flag, which might be something like they still live with their parents (there might be a logical, perfectly healthy reason), or they have crazy work hours (this only becomes a red flag if they aren't willing/able to find some way to prioritize time for a relationship later on, should the dating relationship head that direction).</p>
<p class="small"><sup>8</sup> Once - and only once - I prayed and got this same answer from God myself. Meaning: I'm more willing to believe someone now if/when they say, "I prayed about it and I don't think we're meant to be."</p>
<p class="small"><sup>9</sup> In fact on my 6-year plan of post-it notes on my basement wall from before I got married, I had a post-it note labeled "Adopt!" under the 2021 label. Whether or not I was married by then, I wanted to start creating a family.</p>
<p class="small"><sup>10</sup> Back in the day you could get into Australia just by committing a crime somewhere else in the world; turns out they're a little more picky nowadays, and generally frown on criminal records. I found that funny.</p>
Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-1818312642669274382017-04-28T11:56:00.002-05:002018-12-04T09:20:26.227-06:00Married life FAQs, April edition<style>
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<h3>When and where are you going on your honeymoon?</h3>
<p>Our plan had been to travel to several European countries (Scotland, Netherlands, France, Spain, and Greece among them) in June 2017. However, for a variety of reasons (including focusing on strengthening our relationship), we ended up waiting too long to begin planning in earnest, and there simply isn't time enough remaining before what would have been our planned departure date in order to pull together a trip for summer 2017. Therefore, we've made the difficult decision to post-pone our honeymoon until summer 2018, which we hope will give us enough space to deep-dive into the planning and feel confident about our travel agenda.</p>
<h3>Why aren't you writing on your blog anymore?</h3>
<p>I should think that answer is self-evident :) Turns out being in a relationship consumes a LOT of time. When I look at my time budget, the sad reality is that I've needed to cut much of the "good" in deference of what I believe is the "great". This has included my weekly writing night. So, expect blog posts to be infrequent and sporadic.</p>
<h3>How's the bathroom remodel going?</h3>
<p>We started remodeling our downstairs bathroom back in December, with the hope of being done in a couple months. Well, it's almost May now, and we've yet to even finish the demolition phase. We were delayed in part by tile-backing glue, which turns out to be incredibly difficult to remove. We've been delayed in larger part, though, simply by having too many active Life projects at once (and a social life, to boot!), the end result of which is not being able to focus as much time on the bathroom remodel as we'd hoped.</p>
<h3>I heard a rumor you might be getting a bunny?</h3>
<p style="margin-bottom:1em;">It's true! Alissa has wanted a puppy for years, and I've always been very direct that I hate dogs (well, in fairness, it's more that I get mad at dog owners who don't train their dogs). I grew up with rodents (rats and hamsters) as pets, and said I'd be okay getting one of those, but Alissa wanted a more substantive animal with which to cuddle, so we compromised on getting one bunny (because of course if you get two bunnies, then all of a sudden you've got twenty bunnies).</p>
<p style="margin-bottom:1em;">After some searching on Bunn-e-Harmony (not the website's real name, but I think it should be), we found a pair of bunnies at the Eau Claire, WI humane society that were litter trained, already spayed/neutered, cute, and not too shy. Apparently bunnies are social creatures, and so if you get just one, it might get lonely during the day when you're not around to play. But also, apparently, you can't just get two random bunnies and stick 'em together, because they might get territorial and fight. In our case, the two we found are what's called a "bonded pair," which means they're BFFs and get along (and also must be adopted together).</p>
<p style="margin-bottom:1em;">After filling out an application with the human society, we were approved, and went to pick up Luke and Daisy this past Sunday to bring them to their forever-home. They're brother and sister, one year old, and we're told have a love for dried mangoes (as do Alissa and I - this could lead to some pretty serious mango competition when we run low). We were told to leave them in their cage for the first week so they could adjust (after that, we may be able to give them a larger patch of house to roam during the day), but we couldn't resist letting them run around the living room just a little bit in the evenings, with very close supervision (this also makes it easier to clean the cage, especially given their early propensity to overturn their litter box in apparent protest of being locked up). So far during these hop-abouts we've not had any bunny-poo-out-of-the-cage accidents, which gives us some confidence we may be able to keep the cage door open for longer periods of time.</p>
<p>Anyway, they're very cute, and Alissa's very happy to have live animals to cuddle (apparently my plush animals aren't cuddly enough :).</p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc-T6YeFsf6G503Cy1FfGD83ydt9mqmOeL9YjrEWwTgBKFLhZpb1kjo6VWQF6xQGse657S5ccb4RiQZqLVmvOnxkLt6hrytSm_lBgtrEuymAbW_Y3PNDTKCGxaFddjfdjKak07/s1600/IMG_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc-T6YeFsf6G503Cy1FfGD83ydt9mqmOeL9YjrEWwTgBKFLhZpb1kjo6VWQF6xQGse657S5ccb4RiQZqLVmvOnxkLt6hrytSm_lBgtrEuymAbW_Y3PNDTKCGxaFddjfdjKak07/s400/IMG_0010.JPG" width="400" height="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilnaahrt13YFHJDdsAesRKYQF5Fti6-bRdjej28YZ3Dwdpk6IfWIM00Wpdc1-0wPpr4tVWNOkVqGk1S10NofMUCoTXFvElPJ1bZzw8R6mn0IBeR0vks0Cu8Sgw8NL2KJAqyVNh/s1600/IMG_0014.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilnaahrt13YFHJDdsAesRKYQF5Fti6-bRdjej28YZ3Dwdpk6IfWIM00Wpdc1-0wPpr4tVWNOkVqGk1S10NofMUCoTXFvElPJ1bZzw8R6mn0IBeR0vks0Cu8Sgw8NL2KJAqyVNh/s400/IMG_0014.JPG" width="400" height="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr75E-V79QjM9KO7WNDGBDCZkrlr1Qx5GZM1Ub2zDH_y0B5Mucr0B_tR87Q_bu66W6sAQHYwgRxlLlt64d41uPEHMPZhQFKxcCglgcsuc8ltcX1Hl6BU2A6WNYfHYXQL3zoRYW/s1600/IMG_0017.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr75E-V79QjM9KO7WNDGBDCZkrlr1Qx5GZM1Ub2zDH_y0B5Mucr0B_tR87Q_bu66W6sAQHYwgRxlLlt64d41uPEHMPZhQFKxcCglgcsuc8ltcX1Hl6BU2A6WNYfHYXQL3zoRYW/s400/IMG_0017.JPG" width="400" height="300" /></a>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-4904797911475342472016-12-31T17:53:00.003-06:002016-12-31T17:53:16.891-06:00Books I read in 2016<p>In 2016, I read eight old-fashioned paperbacks, and listened to 77 audiobooks, beating my personal record from <a href="http://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2016/01/books-i-read-in-2015.html">last year's reading accomplishments</a>. I also achieved <a href="http://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2016/01/goals-for-2016.html">my goal of reading at least 5 classics</a> this year (by my definition of "classic," which includes classic sci-fi as well as more traditional literature, I read ten; I've marked these with asterisks in my list below).</p>
<p>The average length of these audiobooks was 8 hours on the dot. My average amount of listening per day was 1 hour and 42 minutes.</p>
<p>My "most influential book" awards go to <em>The Blue Zones</em>, the second half of <em>7 Habits</em>, and a re-reading of <em>Boundaries</em>.</p>
<p><em>Walden</em> wins my award for most rambling and least able to retain my attention (though <em>Emma</em>, <em>The World Set Free</em>, and the first half of <em>7 Habits</em> also get honorable mentions in this category; <em>Invisible Man</em> would have taken the award, but I abandoned listening because after a few hours I couldn't stand the narration any longer).</p>
<p>Only counting non-Star Wars books, <em>The Rosie Project</em> was my favorite listen from this year. It was my wife Alissa's recommendation, being one of the only novelized romance stories she can stand, and I loved it. A close second was <em>My Sister's Keeper</em>, coincidentally (truly) also Alissa's recommendation.</p>
<p>This year also included 26 <em>Star Wars</em> audiobooks (of course it did; this is up from last year's 22). Of these, my favorite was <em>Lost Stars</em>, which tells the human-level stories of Imperial cadets as they grow up and serve in the Empire during the timeframe of movies 4-6, raising absolutely fascinating moral/ethical questions about loyalty to a cause vs loyalty to its leader vs loyalty to friends and family. I loved the book primarily though because it puts a face on "the other side." For instance: the main characters both had a best friend who perished on the Death Star during the Rebel's "terrorist" attack. We as a society struggle to understand the "other" - there is so much fear and mistrust created by our political parties both nationally and internationally. I think this is a great book which helps encourage the reader to consider the "other's" viewpoint, and does so in an accessible approach whether you're a <em>Star Wars</em> fan or not.</p>
<p>And of course, I also loved reading the <em>Star Wars</em> paperback novel <em>Ahsoka</em>, because she (along with Jaina Solo and Mara Jade) is one of my <em>Star Wars</em> universe crushes :)</p>
<p>And here are the lists of books:</p>
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<tr><th>Title</th><th>Author</th><th>Audiobook length</th></tr>
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<tbody>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Bloodline</td><td>Claudia Gray</td><td>12:14:47</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Dark Forces Collectors Trilogy<br />
Soldier for the Empire, Rebel Agent, Jedi Knight</td><td>William Dietz</td><td>5:28:59</td></tr>
<tr><td>My Sister's Keeper</td><td>Jodi Picoult</td><td>13:41:15</td></tr>
<tr><td>The Dark Worlds of H.P. Lovecraft, Volume One</td><td>H. P. Lovecraft</td><td>3:30:15</td></tr>
<tr><td>The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood</td><td>Howard Pyle</td><td>10:36:35</td></tr>
<tr><td>The Rosie Project</td><td>Graeme C. Simsion</td><td>7:32:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>The Zimzum of Love</td><td>Rob and Kristen Bell</td><td>2:12:18</td></tr>
<tr><td>Total Recall</td><td>Philip K. Dick</td><td>1:00:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>Full Heart Living</td><td>Tom Glaser</td><td>5:40:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban</td><td>J.K. Rowling</td><td>11:48:08</td></tr>
<tr><td>A Brief History Of Time</td><td>Stephen Hawking</td><td>5:47:20</td></tr>
<tr><td>I Am Number Four: The Lost Files: Zero Hour</td><td>Pittacus Lore</td><td>7:47:27</td></tr>
<tr><td>Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone</td><td>J.K. Rowling</td><td>8:17:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>The World Without Us</td><td>Alan Weisman</td><td>12:04:32</td></tr>
<tr><td>The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People</td><td>Stephen Covey</td><td>14:03:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>Of Thee I Sing</td><td>Barack Obama</td><td>00:16:15</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Dark Empire II</td><td>Tom Veitch</td><td>1:54:19</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Dark Empire</td><td>Tom Veitch</td><td>2:37:21</td></tr>
<tr><td>Frankenstein*</td><td>Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley</td><td>8:42:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>Radio Free Albemuth</td><td>Philip K. Dick</td><td>7:45:02</td></tr>
<tr><td>Kisses from Katie</td><td>Katie Davis</td><td>8:52:57</td></tr>
<tr><td>The Scarlet Letter*</td><td>Nathaniel Hawthorne</td><td>9:28:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>Beyond Lies the Wub</td><td>Philip K. Dick</td><td>00:21:04</td></tr>
<tr><td>The Island of Dr. Moreau*</td><td>H. G. Wells</td><td>4:07:32</td></tr>
<tr><td>Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets</td><td>J.K. Rowling</td><td>9:24:16</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Aftermath: Life Debt</td><td>Chuck Wendig</td><td>15:32:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>Watership Down</td><td>Richard Adams</td><td>15:53:32</td></tr>
<tr><td>Emma*</td><td>Jane Austen</td><td>15:18:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>The World Set Free</td><td>H. G. Wells</td><td>6:38:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>The Minority Report and Other Stories</td><td>Philip K. Dick</td><td>5:33:25</td></tr>
<tr><td>An Invisible Thread</td><td>Laura Schroff</td><td>7:02:44</td></tr>
<tr><td>The Blue Zones</td><td>Dan Buettner</td><td>7:39:17</td></tr>
<tr><td>A Journey to the Center of the Earth*</td><td>Jules Verne</td><td>9:17:23</td></tr>
<tr><td>King Lear (BBC Radio Shakespeare)</td><td>William Shakespeare</td><td>2:37:52</td></tr>
<tr><td>The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde*</td><td>Robert Louis Stevenson</td><td>3:06:46</td></tr>
<tr><td>As You Like It (BBC radio collection)</td><td>William Shakespeare</td><td>1:59:45</td></tr>
<tr><td>Night</td><td>Elie Wiesel</td><td>3:38:42</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Crimson Empire</td><td>Mike Richardson and Randy Stradley</td><td>1:32:45</td></tr>
<tr><td>I am Malala</td><td>Malala Yousafzai</td><td>9:55:03</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Tales of the Jedi: Dark Lord of the Sith (Full cast audio drama)</td><td>Tom Veitch</td><td>2:18:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Tales of the Jedi (Full cast audio drama)</td><td>Tom Veitch</td><td>2:42:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>America's Original Sin: Racism, White Privilege, and the bridge to a new America</td><td>Jim Wallis</td><td>10:09:58</td></tr>
<tr><td>Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl*</td><td>Anne Frank</td><td>9:55:21</td></tr>
<tr><td>Hamlet: a fully dramatized audio production from the Folger Theatre</td><td>William Shakespeare</td><td>3:32:49</td></tr>
<tr><td>A Voice in the Wind (Unabridged)</td><td>Francine Rivers</td><td>21:26:43</td></tr>
<tr><td>Fire Touched (Mercy Thompson book 9)</td><td>Patricia Briggs</td><td>10:07:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>Boundaries</td><td>Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend</td><td>11:00:03</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Outbound Flight</td><td>Timothy Zahn</td><td>6:18:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: The Force Awakens</td><td>Alan Dean Foster</td><td>10:05:57</td></tr>
<tr><td>The Great Gatsby*</td><td>F. Scott Fitzgerald</td><td>4:53:29</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Return of the Jedi Radio Drama, as heard on NPR</td><td>National Public Radio</td><td>3:12:15</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Battlefront: Twilight Company</td><td>Alexander Freed</td><td>13:40:57</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back Radio Drama, as heard on NPR</td><td>National Public Radio</td><td>4:22:08</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: The Original Radio Drama, as heard on NPR</td><td>National Public Radio</td><td>5:55:36</td></tr>
<tr><td>The Collected Stories of Winnie-the-Pooh</td><td>A. A. Milne</td><td>4:27:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Journey to Star Wars The Force Awakens: Lost Stars</td><td>Claudia Gray</td><td>11:26:01</td></tr>
<tr><td>Dragon Blood (Hurog duology book 2)</td><td>Patricia Briggs</td><td>9:34:24</td></tr>
<tr><td>Dragon Bones (Hurog duology book 1)</td><td>Patricia Briggs</td><td>8:56:56</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Journey to Star Wars The Force Awakens: Smuggler's Run</td><td>Greg Rucka</td><td>3:22:07</td></tr>
<tr><td>All's Well That Ends Well (BBC radio collection)</td><td>William Shakespeare</td><td>2:14:47</td></tr>
<tr><td>The Great Divorce</td><td>C.S. Lewis</td><td>3:22:50</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Heir to the Jedi</td><td>Kevin Hearne</td><td>9:02:20</td></tr>
<tr><td>The Invisible Man*</td><td>H. G. Wells</td><td>6:13:47</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Millennium Falcon</td><td>James Luceno</td><td>10:06:04</td></tr>
<tr><td>Who Is This Man? The Unpredictable Impact of the Inescapable Jesus</td><td>John Ortberg</td><td>7:40:50</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Apocalypse (Fate of the Jedi book 9)</td><td>Troy Denning</td><td>16:30:00</td></tr>
<tr><td>Predictably Irrational: The Hidden Forces That Shape Our Decisions (Unabridged)</td><td>Dan Ariely</td><td>7:22:57</td></tr>
<tr><td>A Grief Observed</td><td>C.S. Lewis</td><td>1:50:52</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Empire and Rebellion: Honor Among Thieves</td><td>James S. A. Corey</td><td>9:52:49</td></tr>
<tr><td>Walden, and, On the Duty of Civil Disobedience*</td><td>Henry David Thoreau</td><td>13:50:56</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Empire and Rebellion: Razor's edge</td><td>Martha Wells</td><td>9:57:19</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Ascension (Fate of the Jedi book 8)</td><td>Christie Golden</td><td>14:44:14</td></tr>
<tr><td>Scary Close</td><td>Donald Miller</td><td>4:07:38</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Dynasty of Evil (Darth Bane book 3)</td><td>Drew Karpyshyn</td><td>9:22:33</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Conviction (Fate of the Jedi book 7)</td><td>Aaron Allston</td><td>12:57:30</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Vortex (Fate of the Jedi book 6)</td><td>Troy Denning</td><td>14:29:25</td></tr>
<tr><td>Star Wars: Allies (Fate of the Jedi book 5)</td><td>Christie Golden</td><td>13:23:57
</tbody>
</table>
<br />
<p>And the paperbacks:</p>
<ul>
<li>Star Wars: Ahsoka, by E. K. Johnston</li>
<li>Star Wars: The Last Jedi, by Michael Reave and Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff</li>
<li>Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, by J.K. Rowling</li>
<li>A Practical Wedding, by Meg Keene</li>
<li>The Secret of Dreadwillow Carse, by Brian Farrey</li>
<li>Star Wars: Tales from the Mos Eisley Cantina, edited by Kevin J. Anderson</li>
<li>A Practical Wedding Planner, by Meg Keene</li>
<li>XKCD: What If?, by Randall Munroe</li>
</ul>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-30300528652444062272016-12-25T23:24:00.000-06:002016-12-25T23:24:28.038-06:00The Second Noel<p>He's finally asleep.</p>
<p>J and I are exhausted. I suppose I didn't think birthing and raising a child would be easy, but, I never imagined the sleep deprivation. I don't think I've slept in a year. This baby might be my future Messiah, but he still cries and poops like every other baby I've seen. I need rest.</p>
<p>And we've also been on the run. J had a dream, a vision from God, telling us we were in danger. So we left. Decamped that very night, and headed to Egypt. We were welcomed, I suppose you could say. I mean, no one here has been overtly hostile to us. But it's not home. I miss home. I miss my parents, my brothers and sisters, my friends. I haven't seen them or heard from them in well over a year.</p>
<p>J and I are getting along better now. It was a rough start for us. I suppose some girls my age would think it romantic to be swept away by their husband-to-be, but, truth be told it was just awkward. We barely knew each other. Even though everyone else our age was getting betrothed, I think we were too young.</p>
<p>But it's getting better now. Even away from home, away from our Community, we are ... dare I say, thriving? We used some of the gold gifts, and sold some of the myrrh, and that got us through a lot of the months. Now that we're at least somewhat settled, J's been able to find work. There's always a demand for carpenters, and J's really good at what he does. I'm so proud of him. I'm so grateful for him. I can't imagine raising this baby without him.</p>
<p>This baby.</p>
<p>Today's his first birthday. To think of where we were one year ago, desperate for a place to rest. Now he's resting comfortably on my lap. He's so serene. I treasure these quiet moments, because I know eventually he will grow up, and life will be more complicated. But for now, when I look into his face, I see Peace.</p>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-62536612073914106062016-12-23T14:03:00.000-06:002016-12-23T14:03:06.354-06:00Runaway Sheep<p>Close call. Woke up this morning and one of the sheep had run away! We spent all day searching. I thought for sure he'd been eaten, or wandered all the way to Egypt. The others always say I'm the pessimist. Maybe they're right.</p>
<p>Well anyway, we found him. The sheep. Now he's watching the sunset with all his sheep friends. Looks like it'll be clear skies, a good night for star-gazing.</p>
<p>I wonder if sheep <em>think</em> like we do? They're all staring at the sky like it's the strangest thing they've ever seen. I wonder what they're thinking.</p>
<p>Now wait, what <em>are</em> they staring at? It's getting brighter. But how? It's night. There's a... it looks like a man floating in the sky, dressed all in white, and, he's glowing?</p>
<p>Shepherd #2, do you see what I see? Oh, good. That means I might not be going crazy. But that also means it's real! I'm scared. Do you hear what I hear, too? This, ... Being - he / she / it - is speaking! "Hark, fear not," he says. ("fear not," yeah, right) Good news, he says. Town of David, cloths, manger, Messiah - it's all a lot to take in at once. Now there are more of the... Beings. They're singing. It's beautiful. We sing to the sheep, but I've never heard music as moving, peaceful, hopeful as this.</p>
<p>They're gone. The heavenly intervention comes to a close. We're all dumbfounded. Was that real? It's hard to imagine we'd all have the same hallucination, if that's what it was, but... would YHWH speak to us in this way? Us, lowly and humble shepherds? I guess there's only one way to find out: we need to start stumbling toward Bethlehem.</p>
<iframe width="640" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/XR-Rg8zKX7A" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-65254163415379833152016-11-23T14:44:00.000-06:002016-11-23T14:53:51.673-06:00Post-Wedding FAQs, November edition<style>
p {margin-bottom:2.5em;}
</style>
<h3>How's "married life"?</h3>
<p style="margin-bottom:1em;">This has been, far and away, THE most frequently asked question over the past two weeks, which is awful because I don't have a quick answer, and I get the impression most people <em>are</em> looking for a quick answer. For a variety of reasons Alissa and I did not live together before the wedding, and so for me, part of "married life" has involved growing accustomed to having a permanent roommate living in what has, for the last ten years, been "my" space. While yes, I've had non-romantic roommates off and on before, never before has that involved someone whose "stuff" was co-mingled with mine. (Speaking of "stuffed", I am very happy that Alissa's stuffed animal moose, Thidwick, has come to live with me now, because he's quite cuddly and adorable :) And so embarking on this journey of sharing space and time and possessions and finances, is exactly that: a journey.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom:1em;">Largely, the past two and a half weeks have been consumed by post-wedding "todo"s, such as unwrapping multiple layers of tulle from the light strings we'd hung over the length of the gym, or putting away gifts, or adding Alissa to my credit cards and checking account and insurances, or dealing with change-of-address updates, and so on (by the way, to date, we have made progress on all, but completed none, of the aforementioned tasks). We also have appointments over the next several weeks to deal with updating my will (and creating one for Alissa), as well as meeting with financial advisors, and continuing couples therapy, which we've found immensely helpful in aiding us to communicate effectively and lovingly.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom:1em;">We also continue to stumble through figuring out what "routine" looks like anymore. As one comical example: we have different sleeping habits - she sleeps with the light on, which of course is just WEIRD; whereas I require absolute darkness to sleep. Morning routines are working okay so far, since I leave for work earlier than she does, and so we haven't experienced bathroom timesharing issues. And I was ecstatic that, even in week 1, on Wednesday night (aka Jeremy's "me night"), Alissa went from work to a coffee shop to church small group, giving me the evening to myself. As we'd agreed during budget negotiations, it is SO worth a $5 coffee for me to have that recharge time to myself.</p>
<p>And we're sort of falling into a frequent habit of making dinners together and watching part of a movie while we eat. Since Alissa's vegetarian, our joint cooking adventures are aided by my recent decision to begin minimizing meat in my diet to once per day, which typically has been lunch; this makes it easier for us to cook meals together in the evening. To clarify a common misconception: my decision to minimize meat is health-related and came after watching a documentary titled <em>Forks over Knives</em>; Alissa (while happy about my choice) had not attempted to sway me in either direction. But, <em>because</em> of my choice, she's introduced me to veggie bacon, which, as much as I can't believe I'm saying this, I actually find quite delicious. Om nom nom.</p>
<h3>When are you going on your honeymoon?</h3>
<p>Following the wedding reception we took a short (two night) vacation to the Outing Lodge in Stillwater, got back in time for church Sunday morning, but then took Monday off work so we could relax a little longer, and finish opening cards and presents. Since Alissa works in a school, taking extended time off during the school year isn't really viable, so we are planning a European odyssey for June. If I get my hopes, we'll spend a couple days at the start going to museums in Washington, D.C., which will have the added advantage of subtracting one hour off our jet lag. My other dream destinations include Scotland and Greece. While we don't have any specific plans yet, the general plan is that we'll take three weeks to do "all the things" in Europe. I'm sure that should be plenty of time.</p>
<h3>What happened to all the sandwiches from the reception?</h3>
<p style="margin-bottom:1em;">Instead of a dance, our reception guests made over 3200 sandwiches for Catholic Charities to distribute to people experiencing food scarcity, poverty, or homelessness. Aaron, my contact at Catholic Charities, tells me that all 3K sandwiches were distributed that same weekend, half at the Dorothy Day center, and the remainder by various partner organizations around town.</p>
<p>Check out my previous blog post for <a href="http://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2016/11/wedding-reception-sandwich-project.html">pictures of the sandwich making</a>!</p>
<h3>Did you raise enough money to pay for the sandwiches?</h3>
<p>If you recall from my blog post a few days before the wedding, we had a <a href="http://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2016/11/wedding-prep-insanity-or-meat-and-cheese-debacle.html">small debacle regarding sandwich supply cost</a>, for which I ended up spending an unexpected $1500 on meats and cheeses. A Thrivent Financial "Action Team" grant cut that cost by $250, and an incredible outpouring of generosity from coworkers and friends paid off another $1,000+!! As of this writing, our out of pocket expense remains only $167.54. I feel so blessed by all the support we've received.</p>
<h3>Where can I see pictures of the wedding?</h3>
<p>Huge thanks to Randy Baranczyk, our wedding photographer. I've posted the photos on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/jeremygustafson" target="_blank">my Facebook page</a>. If you're not my friend yet, send me a friend request or an email!</p>
<h3>What's in those MATTERboxes you handed out at the wedding?</h3>
<p style="margin-bottom:1em;">We invited all our guests to take a MATTERbox (produced by local NGO <a href="https://www.matter.ngo" target="_blank">MATTER</a>, where my good friend and groomsperson Joe happens to work), which are small boxes filled with non-perishable food. The boxes are meant for handing out to panhandlers you might come across on street corners or freeway exit ramps. No one (not even Joe) is quite sure what's actually <em>in</em> the boxes, though, so I decided to open one up and document the un-boxing:</p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkjB67m1SIK42zaUod6JlIL9ZQpmdM6leuX1Dad7ZqxiwQqlmp4FPzgtN34P7vrmZV49UQkmLP48Z46EMcj2v8ncdyWhTK8_PcZZl4fE8kFejjMZXr4qVLQF8YOw_BSx6eOYF0/s1600/IMG_8485.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkjB67m1SIK42zaUod6JlIL9ZQpmdM6leuX1Dad7ZqxiwQqlmp4FPzgtN34P7vrmZV49UQkmLP48Z46EMcj2v8ncdyWhTK8_PcZZl4fE8kFejjMZXr4qVLQF8YOw_BSx6eOYF0/s320/IMG_8485.JPG" width="320" height="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuJWebnxa7SKBtzvYQeteRQRn5XD-3TnNSIrkMJM098xNY_HrxPunRzrA0EarJCIrrB79pAYbtBfjkkvgqBm305tVqz_q3xB-naCNsJyLnbGE6tdnPtpzjRuVsDwdbtmgLPJme/s1600/IMG_8486.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuJWebnxa7SKBtzvYQeteRQRn5XD-3TnNSIrkMJM098xNY_HrxPunRzrA0EarJCIrrB79pAYbtBfjkkvgqBm305tVqz_q3xB-naCNsJyLnbGE6tdnPtpzjRuVsDwdbtmgLPJme/s320/IMG_8486.JPG" width="320" height="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0quvb6C3qnQqEnOfUs-TsfEBuiUFUCWzLAykfT2TliDdopYZXsa9cZmJ5tRx09sVSW6dcv0fVkerZlp0YOqa67W3KYZjfYxA0EMdbC8SQYTi0hPeKsqQZANrcFh3H7NEIyKEO/s1600/IMG_8487.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0quvb6C3qnQqEnOfUs-TsfEBuiUFUCWzLAykfT2TliDdopYZXsa9cZmJ5tRx09sVSW6dcv0fVkerZlp0YOqa67W3KYZjfYxA0EMdbC8SQYTi0hPeKsqQZANrcFh3H7NEIyKEO/s320/IMG_8487.JPG" width="320" height="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPnNNefWwULHD1Hpk9NVVKmY1Z_knzKBaLi38TrMlzRkY7wq5ANJXp_7TisAXnrWuPXaZv30v8y8M-3s943Jm5owLjGhVDJ6apjW0gY6TvED2eUr7UAtnCaoKYvbsi8jGfGDLY/s1600/IMG_8488.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPnNNefWwULHD1Hpk9NVVKmY1Z_knzKBaLi38TrMlzRkY7wq5ANJXp_7TisAXnrWuPXaZv30v8y8M-3s943Jm5owLjGhVDJ6apjW0gY6TvED2eUr7UAtnCaoKYvbsi8jGfGDLY/s320/IMG_8488.JPG" width="320" height="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhteTASO9LiFQrDReBobvUHwdTY2elcYdtEHVKhP6I7WkWrVzQE1NQzE8Z-Nv_hmDXWbeBxK5c0eOJwdtpyy5OP7Tc6WFrQ6ME5E7AMIbAD09d1XO17rAb5hDyhm3HgRlSR0o/s1600/IMG_8490.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhteTASO9LiFQrDReBobvUHwdTY2elcYdtEHVKhP6I7WkWrVzQE1NQzE8Z-Nv_hmDXWbeBxK5c0eOJwdtpyy5OP7Tc6WFrQ6ME5E7AMIbAD09d1XO17rAb5hDyhm3HgRlSR0o/s320/IMG_8490.JPG" width="320" height="240" /></a>
<p><em>Disclaimer:</em> this is simply the contents of one single box. Based on the varying weights between boxes, I'm pretty sure each box has a different adventure waiting inside.</p>
<h3>I'd like to buy more MATTERboxes for myself or my organization! Who should I contact?</h3>
<p>You should contact my buddy Joe at MATTER, who's in charge of the MATTERbox distribution!<br />
<strong>Joe Newhouse</strong><br />
<a href="mailto:joe@matter.ngo">joe@matter.ngo</a><br />
(952) 737-6093</p>
<h3>Your reception food was amazing! Who was your caterer?</h3>
<p style="margin-bottom:1em;">Short answer: <a href="http://abiscafe.com" target="_blank">Abi's Cafe in Minneapolis</a>.</p>
<p>Longer answer: Months ago when we first started thinking about caterers, I wanted to find one with ties to either a shelter or food shelf, so the leftovers could go to people who really needed a good meal. In that search, I came across these news articles about Abi's Cafe: <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/struggling-minneapolis-cafe-owner-offers-homeless-man-job-article-1.2581565" target="_blank">nydailynews</a>, <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/US/homeless-man-asks-restaurant-owner-money-job/story?id=38000801" target="_blank">abcnews</a>, and asked Alissa if we could go check out the restaurant for one of our date nights. We loved the food, and also loved the idea of supporting a local business, owned and operated by a young immigrant woman who was our same age. Abi worked so hard for us, and quite gracefully handled a lot of me asking "oh, can your staff do this, too?" She even closed her restaurant for our wedding day, so she and her staff could focus exclusively on us. We can't say enough good things about her, so if you're ever looking for some Salvadorian food, please drop by Abi's and tell her you heard about her from Alissa and Jeremy's wedding!</p>
<h3>If I want to mail you a card, what salutations should I use? (a.k.a., what's Alissa's last name now?)</h3>
<p style="margin-bottom:1em;">The answer surprises a lot of people, but it's actually quite simple: nothing has changed :) Alissa is still "Ms. Alissa Carsten", and I am still "Mr. Jeremy Gustafson". If you're addressing a card or package to both of us, we have no preference on whose name is listed first, so you can either address to "Jeremy Gustafson and Alissa Carsten," or, "Alissa Carsten and Jeremy Gustafson."</p>
<p>Now if you're thinking, "oh shoot! I sent you a card/check/package to 'Jeremy and Alissa Gustafson,'" it's okay, you weren't the only one, and I think all newly married couples need to have a lot of grace helping friends and family navigate the salutation issue, especially when doing something non-standard like we have. But now you know!</p>
<h3>Do you REALLY have 850 Beanie Babies???!!!</h3>
<p>Yep. And probably a few more. I have 828 Beanies (2 were wedding gifts :) and Buddies and Teenies that I've inventoried on my spreadsheet. I also have a box of several dozen unopened Teenie Beanies, still in their original McDonald's packaging (so that they're worth more :p ), bringing the total somewhere between 850 and 900.</p>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-45854343968758897832016-11-15T15:58:00.000-06:002016-11-15T16:00:17.180-06:00Wedding Reception: The Sandwich Project<p>You may recall my previous blog post about the <a href="/2016/11/wedding-prep-insanity-or-meat-and-cheese-debacle.html">meat & cheese acquisition debacle</a>. Well now it's time to share how it all turned out!</p>
<p>The support of my workplace in contributing to offset our costs was incredibly heartening, uplifting, and encouraging: we had a God-sized dream to pull this off at our reception, and God showed up (via coworkers wandering by my desk and throwing money at me) to help make it happen. I just need to share how incredible this is: I started with a $1,473 out-of-pocket expense for the meat and cheese; $250 was covered by a grant from Thrivent Financial, and now to date, I've received an additional $1,045 from co-workers and friends to help offset the cost, leaving my out-of-pocket at a mere $178. That, to me, is a "wow" moment.</p>
<p>I shared something related to this in my last post that I think is worth sharing again:</p>
<blockquote>
I've had three separate people offer me donations today because of my FB post. I've teared up each time.
<br /><br />
I'm sharing this with you to say, *we* *are* supported. The unlikeliest people (well, and some likely ones, too) are stepping up and offering suggestions, tangible help, and even money, to help us do our sandwich making service project. And the ones who can't help (a few of the nonprofits/businesses I've called asking for donations) still say "what a neat and cool idea" to do instead of a dance.
<br /><br />
Also, this is a practical lesson for me about what my Jesus Calling devotional has been talking about today and the past couple days: relying on God, rather than my own abilities. The idea of shelling out an un-budgeted $2000+ to make the sandwiches happen, was a bit overwhelming to me. Now money and help are coming out of the woodwork. God is providing. God is teaching me that God provides. God is teaching me that God works through people I wouldn't have expected God to work through. And it is beautiful.
</blockquote>
<p>At our reception a week and a half ago, the service project got off to a slightly bumpy start, largely due to my not-fully-thought-through logistics of distributing aprons and gloves. But once people got going, they really got going! We made over 3200 sandwiches in less than an hour, and everyone (at least seemingly) truly <em>enjoyed</em> the project. I and my family heard innumerable unsolicited comments about how much fun people had had, and how meaningful it was that Alissa and I would choose to spend our special wedding day focused on serving others.</p>
<p>In addition to the sandwich project, we purchased 300 MATTERboxes - boxes full of non-perishable foodstuff - and invited every guest to take one or more to then hand out to panhandlers they might encounter. This had the unintended, but wonderful, side-effect of sparking conversations among the church staff about considering a similar gift for their parishioners. As well, we hope by both the MATTERboxes and sandwich project, that we have not only encouraged our guests to consider the "outsider," the less fortunate, the outcast whom Jesus loves, but also pointed them toward God and a heart of service beyond just our wedding day.</p>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE3mlQAS57iAHn8f-SGy1JHWdY9FPHY8Kx6OtZUEFQNErUyxCmv9SIpy4aVg05klfeqnsrLwlWICVETN422z0Qwx3JbtmIQolpyFzyRinTrplUSgzYinceLylEzbkmqIKoJoQ6/s1600/20161104_210501.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE3mlQAS57iAHn8f-SGy1JHWdY9FPHY8Kx6OtZUEFQNErUyxCmv9SIpy4aVg05klfeqnsrLwlWICVETN422z0Qwx3JbtmIQolpyFzyRinTrplUSgzYinceLylEzbkmqIKoJoQ6/s320/20161104_210501.jpg" width="320" height="213" /></a>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-68729990388951827482016-11-04T11:09:00.000-05:002016-11-29T08:30:52.378-06:00Wedding Vows<p>In a <a href="http://www.timeanddate.com/countdown/generic?iso=20161104T1727&p0=159&msg=Alissa+and+Jeremy%27s+Wedding&font=hand" target="_blank">few hours</a>, Alissa and I will make some life-long promises to each other. As a lead-up to the big moment, I thought I'd share some backstory about our vow-writing.</p>
<p>(side-note: we realized yesterday during rehearsal that we never say the literal words "I do" anywhere in the service - hopefully the marriage will still be valid anyway!)</p>
<p>A couple months ago, I reached out to a long lost friend to ask her about a phrase I remember she and her wife had used in their vows. It was something to the effect of "until one of us breathes no more", and the specific way they had phrased it I remember thinking at the time was particularly beautiful, and so I wanted to plagiarize that one sentence in my own vow. Kathryn, who has always been wiser than I, took a few days to ponder my request, and then responded she was choosing to decline sending me that sentence. Instead, she encouraged me and Alissa to do something like what she and her wife had done in their own vow-writing process: visit a coffee shop, and while sitting on opposite sides of the room, contemplate what exactly they were wanting to promise each other, what was important in their relationship. Then after a while (an hour? more? depends on the couple), they came together and, in their case, merged their thoughts into one vow that they would both read.</p>
<p>Alissa and I liked this idea, and so we did our own version of it a week or two ago (though instead of combining, we are each reading our own unique vow). Alissa had written her first draft some months earlier on a sleepless night, but for me this was my first shot really focusing on what I thought I might say. Sitting in Dunn Brothers (they had buy-one-get-one-free that night, so Alissa got a black bitter water and I got something tasty), I went through numerous notes accumulated over years of attending weddings.</p>
<p>Sadly, the promise "I will never leave you in a zombiepocalypse" didn't make it into my final draft, nor did any Taylor Swift lyrics. I also couldn't find a place for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jhTPOjA2Bbk&ab_channel=qwert9876#t=0m40s" target="_blank">my favorite quote from <em>Boy Meets World</em></a>: "I do my thing and you do your thing. You are you and I am I. And if in the end we end up together, it's beautiful."</p>
<p>At the end of writing, I think my only plagiarism was a phrase lifted from my friend Kayla's vows: "I promise to communicate with you and always work on improving our communication. I promise to listen well and actively." Since communication is something Alissa and I discuss frequently, this seemed fitting.</p>
<p>The rest of my words were largely "Jeremy-isms," such as love being a choice, and my long-held believe that saying "I love you" also means acknowledging, "I will eventually cause you hurt." I also included a generic, though I think poignant, line about holding each others' hands in the doctor's office. Neither of us is sick right now, so it's not anything to panic about. But it comes from this story: years ago, as I prayed to God about a different relationship, I had a mental vision of the woman I loved coming home to me from a doctor's appointment, looking me in the eye, and me instantly knowing without her saying any words, that the test had come back as cancer. God asked me, "if this were to happen, would you love her and care for her even through that journey?" I've always held that in the back of my mind as one of my definitions of "love." And so the doctor's office in my vow may be referencing that, or it may be if we need to visit a fertility clinic for either one of us, or it may be me getting my next colonoscopy (coming up in February/March, oh yay :/ ), or who knows what. As I said it's generic, but for me, powerful in that generality.</p>
<p>The other big one for me is a single word I tucked into this phrase: "I promise I will be yours alone, faithful to you physically, visually, and emotionally." When hearing the word "affair" most people probably assume a physical affair, though in recent years I would say our society has become more open to acknowledging such a thing as an emotional affair, as well, even if it never becomes physical. Going beyond these two, it was as important to me to promise Alissa I would not have an affair with my eyes, either. Like most human males, my sexuality is turned on by visual stimuli, and I live in a culture where it is very difficult to avoid hyper-sexualized print-advertisements, television, movies, etc. Thinking back to a book I read years ago called "Every Man's Battle" (at least, I think that was the book; might have been "Every Man's Marriage" in the same series), the authors discuss "bouncing the eyes" away from provocative ads - as they allege, this "starves" the mind of any sexual arousal other than one's wife, which in turn makes her even more attractive because your mind isn't caught up comparing her to billboard and magazine models. Alissa and I have had some good conversations around this point, but even if we'd never discussed it, I would still have wanted to include the promise in my public declaration.</p>
<p>And lastly, on a less-heavy note, there are a few light-hearted "laugh points" as I call them. For example, "I promise I will try to solve all your problems, and then afterward remember that sometimes you need me just to listen instead of act." If you happen to read this blog post pre-wedding, you have my permission and encouragement to laugh/chuckle/giggle/make a random noise at that point during the vows, because while it is truth, it's also <em>meant</em> to be amusing.</p>
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<blockquote>
Alissa,
<br /><br />
Love is an emotion, and love is a choice. I have told you I love you in my heart; today I promise to choose to love you every day.
<br /><br />
Love is a double edged sword, because saying “I love you” is also promising “I will say and do things that hurt you.” I will make selfish decisions, and we will have fights. Knowing I cannot promise we will have a strife-free relationship, I will instead promise to be there every time to work through the conflict and hurt.
<br /><br />
I promise to communicate with you, and to work continually on improving our communication. I promise to listen well and actively. I promise I will try to solve all your problems, and then afterward remember that sometimes you need me just to listen instead of act.
<br /><br />
I promise to learn how to make you coffee, to wake you up on mundane days. I promise I will have fun with you, to bring joy into our adventure together. I promise to be your cheerleader when you feel overwhelmed by your career, graduate schooling, or life’s unpredictable doses of chaos. I promise to hold your hand in the doctor’s office while we wait for test results. I promise to respect you and cherish you. I promise I will be yours alone, faithful to you physically, visually, and emotionally. And I promise to encourage you, and challenge you to grow, in your faith walk and relationship with God.
<br /><br />
These promises I make from this breath forward, until one of us breathes our last.
</blockquote>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-64202679070757950562016-11-02T13:29:00.001-05:002016-11-11T15:28:17.517-06:00Wedding prep insanity, or, "the meat and cheese debacle of '16"<p>As you may have read in previous wedding-related posts, instead of a dance at our wedding this Friday, Alissa and I will be hosting a service project for our guests to make 3000 sandwiches for distribution this winter to people experiencing homelessness and food scarcity.</p>
<p>Originally, I had been told we would be getting deli meat, cheese, and bread for pennies on the dollar, so I [mistakenly or not] did not budget for this expense. Unfortunately, a week ago (just 11 days before the wedding) I found out my source's source for mass quantities of those steeply-discounted products had dried up and was no longer available.</p>
<p>Thus began the most stressful week I've had in over four years (sadly I <em>do</em> remember the last time I was this close to a nervous breakdown), and yet at the same time it has also been a week full of watching God at work.</p>
<p>Last Wednesday morning, I posted a plea on Facebook, and also to our internal office email list, explaining my plight, and asking if anyone had suggestions for where I might source 400 pounds of meat and 130 pounds of cheese* for the sandwich making.</p>
<p>To say I was blown away by the response would be an understatement. By day's end, two dozen coworkers had replied with advice/suggestions/leads, as had half a dozen friends on FB. But what humbled me even more, were replies of people expressing their desire to contribute money to help defray my unexpected costs. First was an acquaintance from my filmmaking days years ago, followed shortly after by a friend I haven't seen in probably almost a year (and whom I'd forgotten to even invite to the wedding, oops! [that has been fixed now, and he's attending]). The amount of networking happening fell simultaneously into the realms of awesome/hilarious/kinda-crazy, as, for instance: one coworker called his cousin at a meat factory who talked to his manager who then talked to their VP, trying to get some donations worked out. Another called a long time friend who used to own a shop who was going to call the new owner. And another coworker put me in touch with his wife who runs a restaurant and so has access to the Restaurant Depot, which is basically Sam's Club on steroids. I kept thinking of that old joke about "I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy...".</p>
<p>The reality was I had too many suggestions/leads and too few hours to follow through on them myself (remember, I still had <em>other</em> wedding-related tasks on my plate, too!). Acknowledging to myself my own time deficit, I reached out to the wife of one of my close coworkers to ask if she'd be willing call around on my behalf, and so she spent an entire afternoon+evening last week calling various stores and non-profits, trying to find me meat and cheese donations. As the week went on several other friends and coworkers helped in this endeavor, as well. There were so many options in flight it was quite the mental exercise trying to keep everything straight.</p>
<p>In the midst of all this efforting (which for me was extremely exhausting and draining), the easy thing to do would have been give up and say we'll not do the sandwich making project after all. But my stubbornness, and if I may be so bold: the feeling that God was backing us up in this sandwich adventure, kept me from giving up. Instead, I allowed myself to feel the support of Community, all of whom wanted to see us succeed in doing Good (capitalizations deliberate).</p>
<p>Over the next days at work, I was asked frequently if I'd gotten my meat issue solved yet. As I explained my predicament (lots of leads, haven't had time to follow through on all of them, still likely that I'll have to end up purchasing from Sam's Club simply because in-kind donations require longer lead times than the one single week we had), I was continually blown away as more and more coworkers offered, "if you end up needing contributions, I'd be willing to donate some money." It was humbling, and heartening, and reaffirming. As I wrote to Alissa in the midst of this all:</p>
<blockquote>
I've had three separate people offer me donations today because of my FB post. I've teared up each time.
<br /><br />
I'm sharing this with you to say, *we* *are* supported. The unlikeliest people (well, and some likely ones, too) are stepping up and offering suggestions, tangible help, and even money, to help us do our sandwich making service project. And the ones who can't help (a few of the nonprofits/businesses I've called asking for donations) still say "what a neat and cool idea" to do instead of a dance.
<br /><br />
Also, this is a practical lesson for me about what my Jesus Calling devotional has been talking about today and the past couple days: relying on God, rather than my own abilities. The idea of shelling out an un-budgeted $2000+ to make the sandwiches happen, was a bit overwhelming to me. Now money and help are coming out of the woodwork. God is providing. God is teaching me that God provides. God is teaching me that God works through people I wouldn't have expected God to work through. And it is beautiful.
</blockquote>
<p>Un-relatedly, a day or two before this chaos began, I'd started keeping a gratefulness journal - writing down (aka typing into a Google Spreadsheet) at least one thing each day for which I was grateful. My spreadsheet was soon being filled with sandwich-related gratefulnesses as more and more people not only affirmed me, but then offered to do what they could to help. For instance Monday morning arriving to work, I hadn't even made it to my desk yet and a coworker handed me a check from him and his wife, because they both believed in our project and wanted to support us.</p>
<p>As I mentioned I (and many others) poured a lot of energy into solving this, including coordinating a trip to price-check meats & cheeses at the Restaurant Depot (huge thank you to Agnes and Keith!), figuring out if we bought the unsliced meat there, where I could slice it and how much that would cost ($1/pound is the answer, turns out), how much time that would take, all the logistics of refrigeration between now and Friday, etc. My contact from Catholic Charities (who will be taking/distributing the sandwiches) also spent hours on the phone talking with me, various Sam's Clubs, possible in-kind donors, and so on.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObq5WsQK86EAbQnyPCnbqn1zTzLFgeCcpDgOnTuFEXyDMBA1ppj8Qms1hGv_uujYCaGnpo_ChN1EALoXC8NGj0Fslok0D1Jy5jHwbPy7VTHT5p-KxtkmvqGmd4wFCIgvG4HGR/s1600/IMG_8403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObq5WsQK86EAbQnyPCnbqn1zTzLFgeCcpDgOnTuFEXyDMBA1ppj8Qms1hGv_uujYCaGnpo_ChN1EALoXC8NGj0Fslok0D1Jy5jHwbPy7VTHT5p-KxtkmvqGmd4wFCIgvG4HGR/s320/IMG_8403.JPG" width="240" height="320" /></a></div>
<p>In the end, even though many vendors would have loved to help, the reality became that there wasn't enough time to clear all the approvals or even to physically ship the necessary quantity of meat and cheese we needed. So, yesterday, Aaron met me at Sam's Club in Eagan, and we loaded up two shopping carts FULL of 399 pounds of ham & turkey, and 130 pounds of cheese.</p>
<p>Now when I say "loaded up," I mean we cleaned them out of two different meat products and half their stock of a third, in order to get all 400 pounds (and it turns out trying to math when you're tired is hard! I don't know how many times we had to re-count the meat in our carts). We had a manager digging out meat from behind the refrigeration units and pushing it through the fridge door to us, while we loaded the carts from the customer-facing side of the fridge. We talked with another manager, who agreed to give us a $25 discount in order to price match website price of the cheese from another Sam's Club (funny side-story: she radioed up to the front to tell the checkout mangers that "two men with a <em>lot</em> of meat and cheese will be coming you way in a minute..."). And when we were pushing the carts from the fridges in the back of the store up to the checkout, we got a healthy dose of strange looks from passers by :)</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkNoR80zG7zvT9Sa50BdRW0Afxgf0AsxC1bPWX4jS-WKF6TdDdNR-jZzyWvn2Nh44xEQoZ4s6I-eMtMpPDOsI_5TiHmwBtERlm96J4EmRn0vucYObFMlnDqwuVWtZS3LNlzQ8I/s1600/IMG_8404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkNoR80zG7zvT9Sa50BdRW0Afxgf0AsxC1bPWX4jS-WKF6TdDdNR-jZzyWvn2Nh44xEQoZ4s6I-eMtMpPDOsI_5TiHmwBtERlm96J4EmRn0vucYObFMlnDqwuVWtZS3LNlzQ8I/s320/IMG_8404.JPG" width="320" height="240" /></a></div>
<p>To anyone and everyone who would listen, I told them Alissa's and my story about wanting to do this 3000-sandwich service project at our wedding reception. The poor cashier who got stuck with ringing us out (193 items total), thanked me, multiple times - I don't know her story, but hearing about our project really touched her and I think made an uplifting difference in her day. She also told me that we were the second largest purchase she'd ever seen come through her line at Sam's.**</p>
<p>While we were ringing out, another manager came up and asked Aaron, "are you the guy I talked to on the phone earlier about the meat?" When I explained what we were doing, she got a little misty eyed and asked, "that's really amazing. Can I hug you?" We both gave her a big hug.</p>
<p>Roughly an hour after arrival, we'd loaded all the meat and cheese into Aaron's Catholic Charities van, and he left to put it into their refrigeration units. At long last, my week of endless efforting had a resolution. At long last, my elevated resting heart rate could return to normal.</p>
<p>Some thoughts and reflections. At first I thought I needed to find in-kind donations, grocery stores willing to give us 10 or 20 pounds of meat here and there, in order to minimize financial cost. In retrospect, I think the week was more a lesson about the love and support of Community. While it would certainly have been nice to get all the meat and cheese for free, I think I spent a lot more time and energy than I should have, trying to pursue that. Had I last Wednesday instead decided, "this is unfortunate, but I'm just going to go to Sam's Club and take care of it," I could have spared myself a lot of stress.</p>
<p>At the same time, in the <em>midst</em> of that stress, I kept listening to two particular songs over and over. In the first (a particular live rendition of "King of My Heart"), the singer improvises some prayers in the middle of the song, and sings full of joy that "He's come to overwhelm the thing that's overwhelmed you this morning." That encouragement kept me going in the middle of my most stressed-out days. A reminder and acknowledgement that God's got this. Not just a platitude of "God's got a plan" or something trite like that. I truly <em>saw</em> tangible reassurances that God was working in this thing I called a "debacle," and when I thought about how many people were helping alongside, how could I not see God's providence in that? This related strongly, I think, to the second song that kept coming back to mind: "God is on the move." Wednesday Thursday and Friday last week, I basically kept these songs on repeat on my headphones, because even in the extreme stress, I still believe in their Truth.</p>
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<p class="small">* These poundage numbers are corrected here from my original Facebook and email estimates.</p>
<p class="small">** UPDATED: Our total cost at Sam's was $1472.54. Of this, $250 was paid for by an "Action Team" grant from Thrivent Financial for Lutherans. $25 was discounted from Sam's Club management as described above. Another $495 was paid for by contributions from friends and coworkers. And at our wedding, an additional $370 was gifted to us for this project. If you feel so led and would like to contribute toward offsetting the remaining $332.54, please let me know!</p>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-56775032744703268922016-10-14T15:58:00.002-05:002016-10-14T23:58:04.486-05:00Wedding FAQs, October edition<style>
p {margin-bottom:2.5em;}
</style>
<h3>Are you getting excited?</h3>
<p>Sure? Right now we are both fairly stressed with how many "to-dos" we have left to turn into "been-dones", that it's hard to feel excitement (or any other emotion, other than stress). I'm more excited for life together <em>after</em> the wedding, which is probably a good thing. Like I wrote in <a href="https://www.blogger.com/2016/06/wedding-faqs-june-edition.html">June</a>, I hope our wedding day <em>isn't</em> the best day of my whole life!</p>
<h3>How is planning going?</h3>
<p>If I can manage to wrestle my emotions out of the way, honestly we're doing pretty well. As I'm sure everyone else has experienced with any major project, every detail feels like the most important thing in the moment. For instance, two weeks ago I was panicking over what we would do for trash bins. Reality check: if 5 weeks before your wedding you can devote energy to panicking about rubbish bins, you're probably in a good place.<br /><br />
On a related note, though, I do have a pet peeve I'd like to get off my chest. Many folks, in an effort to be helpful, have offered the advice "remember to enjoy this time of life," or, worse, "remember to just keep it simple!" While I reserve the right to change my mind on this later, for now I remain convinced these people have either never been involved in planning a wedding, or it's been so long since they did, that they've forgotten just how not-simple even the most simple wedding is. In an effort not to get angry at truly well-meaning friends and family who say such things, I choose to interpret their remarks as instead saying "I care for you, and I'm thinking of you, and I'm excited for you, therefore I wish you less-stressful times as you deal with what will be one of the most stressful times in your life."<br /><br />
A similar sentiment, though one I do actually agree with, is "it'll all get done. Or it won't, and it won't matter, because at the end of the day you'll be married and that's what matters." I think that sentiment is much more useful (though if you're someone saying this, I'd appreciate if you'd be willing to tack on one more line: "what can I do to help?"). This reminds me to have another look at our wedding mission statement that we drew up 6 months ago, to inspire and calm us in times when we found ourselves mired in details: "Joining together our two lives, celebrating with our community of family and friends, and focusing on God, service, and social responsibility."</p>
<h3>What does social responsibility look like for your wedding?</h3>
<p style="margin-bottom:1em;">Okay fine, once again I'm including an alleged "FAQ" that no one's ever actually asked. But I want to answer it anyway, because these details are particularly important to me.<br /><br />
All our plates, cups, and flatwear are compostable, in order to bring us as close as possible to a no-trash wedding (and reduce water consumption from not having to wash dishes). Instead of a dance we will be hosting a service project to make sandwiches for people experiencing poverty and homelessness this winter. For decorations, we are borrowing as much as possible, and buying as little as possible (aka financial stewardship). We won't be using balloons because of their environmental impact, and for the ceremony we will ask our guests to pull up the program on their smartphones, to save on paper. We have chosen vendors who (to the best of our knowledge) are GLBTQ-friendly. And our caterer is a locally-owned restaurant on Lake Street, <a href="http://www.abiscafe.com/" target="_blank">Abi's Cafe</a>, whom I found after a <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/struggling-minneapolis-cafe-owner-offers-homeless-man-job-article-1.2581565" target="_blank">news story</a> months ago about the owner (Abi) going out of her way to hire a panhandler, rather than giving him a free hand-out. (and, their food is delicious - I highly recommend checking the cafe out if you're local!).<br /><br />
Lastly, though we do have a registry for tangible gifts, we are asking our guests to consider instead donating to one of the charitable organizations we support:</p>
<ul style="margin-bottom:2.5em;">
<li><a href="http://www.one2onementor.org/" target="_blank">One 2 One Mentoring</a></li>
<li><a href="https://www.malala.org/" target="_blank">Malala Fund</a></li>
<li><a href="http://hopeschool.org/giving/ways-to-give/" target="_blank">Hope Academy</a></li>
<li><a href="http://hope4youthmn.org/" target="_blank">Hope 4 Youth</a></li>
<li><a href="https://ugmtc.org/" target="_blank">Union Gospel Mission</a></li>
</ul>
<h3>When and where will you be going on your honeymoon?</h3>
<p>We'll be going to Europe (all of it, all the things!) in summer 2017. Exact details are TBD until after the wedding planning chaos has wrapped up, but if you have suggestions of sights to see (or not see) in Europe, please let us know! This is your invitation for offering unsolicited advice :)</p>
<h3>What will the Ring Bear be wearing?</h3>
<p>A baby tuxedo from Target. Mr Bear will be looking quite dapper.</p>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-18417233112245501992016-09-19T21:07:00.000-05:002016-09-19T21:07:39.504-05:00Mr. and Mrs. Last Name<p>If you'll recall, <a href="http://jeremygustafson.blogspot.com/2016/04/jeremys-engaged.html">I recently got engaged</a>.</p>
<p>One of the conversations Alissa and I had rather early on in our relationship was about last names, and how, at so many weddings, I objected to the concluding phrase, "I now present, for the first time ever, Mr. and Mrs. His-First-Name His-Last-Name." I objected because the woman, who often was <em>my</em> friend or relative - aka the reason I was attending the wedding - had been reduced to the name of "Mrs." I recall attending a wedding with my friend Jessie, and when the "Mr. and Mrs." pronouncement was made we both groaned to each other, "and there it is."</p>
<p>Alissa saw my point, but stated in no uncertain terms that if we got married, she'd want to take my last name and be introduced as "Mr. and Mrs. Last-Name." Her reason was to form a new identity as a couple, separate from her former life as an individual. Frantically I explained to her that if I did that at my own wedding, Jessie would never forgive me! She retorted, "who would you rather have upset at you, your friend Jessie or your wife?"</p>
<p>Toss-up.</p>
<p>Fortunately, Alissa has since changed her opinion about taking my last name (she realized she actually likes her last name, and doesn't want to go through all the legal hassles of changing something she likes), and now plans on keeping her own, so I've managed to escape the trap! Jessie can be happy with me, as can Alissa.</p>
<p>Whew!</p>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27614643.post-64169498806663983462016-09-12T09:06:00.004-05:002016-09-12T09:06:41.029-05:00Have I?<p>Half my lifetime ago, history happened. Rather than write my personal story of that day, I think it's more important to ask some challenging questions:</p>
<p>If I call myself a follower of Jesus, the same Jesus who says "love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you," have I truly lived that? Have I prayed for the hijackers who, 15 years ago, following the rhetoric of men who had twisted the peaceful message of Islam for their own destructive means, also lost their lives alongside their victims? Have I prayed for their families who, whether they perceive their loved ones joyfully as martyrs or mournfully as victims, have in both cases still lost someone they loved? Have I prayed for the thousands of victims who have died in the Middle East and elsewhere around the world as a result of my own country's acts of terroristic violence, air raids, invasions? Have I prayed for the leaders, followers, and families of ISIS? Have I written to my legislature asking for saner foreign policies that don't involve dropping bombs, which inevitably kill civilians, therefore inciting more fires of radicalism? Have I reached out to the Muslims in my local community to say, "you are welcome here. You, and Islam, are not my enemy"? Have I in fact done <em>anything</em> to help promote peace, understanding, camaraderie?</p>
<p>This is what's on my mind today.</p>Jeremy Gustafsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11390140643945683621noreply@blogger.com0