Decorating the Gas Pole

Over the weekend, Liz decided to begin her front garden project.  The edge of the narrow front yard, terminating in a mailbox and pipeline marker, looked very inelegant.  And I agreed with her assessment.  I hate that ugly marker.

But, there isn’t much I can do about its mere existence.  I imagine removing it would be in violation of some statute regarding the easement, and since the BP contractors have so far been very reasonable with us, I’m opting to not jeopardize our tenuous non-aggression pact.  So, the pole stays.  Other than that, the only restriction was to not plant trees on the easement.  But we got an official okay for anything bush size or smaller.

breaking ground
16 tons…

I’m no stranger to removing sod, but this was the hardest yet.  I swear the roots were a foot deep.  It may not have been virgin prairie, but I’m pretty sure this grass was here since the 60s.  The soil also has just enough clay that the roots wouldn’t pull free–rather they had to be cut.  Ultimately we had to dig up the sod with a shovel, then shear off the dirt and bottom roots with a stirrup hoe.  An hour into the project, Liz rethought the garden’s size.  It did give me an excuse to segue into a discussion about how pioneers on the Great Plains constructed houses out of sod though.

In the end, tenacity won out, and garden we had.  Now filled with acquisitions from the perennial sale, and some annuals from the indoor grow light experiment, we have enhanced the aesthetics of the front yard, and hopefully, detracted from the glaring prominence of that stupid pole.

grow dammit
If I grew a vine on it, it might look like decoration

Henceforth, it shall be know as the Easter garden.

–Simon

Certificate Renewal

In accordance with Lets Encrypt’s (the certificate authority for this site) 90-day SSL certificate expirations, I needed to renew the certificate for this site.  It should be seamless, but if you are using any applications that support certificate pinning, you may receive a notice of a certificate mismatch.  This is normal, and the alert serves as a warning against a possible certificate forgery.  Simply accept the new certificate.  However, for the extra paranoid (myself included), you may validate the new certificate’s authenticity with the below fingerprints:

SHA1 Fingerprint:

4D:28:C4:DA:0C:DE:48:39:6D:CD:1A:28:E5:D5:CC:46:5C:34:85:32

SHA-256 Fingerprint:

39:4B:3A:D3:40:C5:EA:89:B1:1C:80:F8:E4:E7:2B:30:E4:23:E2:42:4F:BC:6D:EB:86:CD:FA:83:1F:B8:57:BE

The current certificate will be valid until July 16, although I will probably renew it within 2 weeks of that.

–Simon

Ironic Inverse Ratio

Years ago, before my employer started its regular “Great Places to Work” program, it maintained a less grandiose practice of occasionally but regularly asking employees for feedback on how it could improve.  At the time I figured this was pointless lip-service, but I dutifully responded with reasonable requests.  One of these requests was for free coffee.

I didn’t expect them to hire a barista, serving Arabica blends.  Of course, I didn’t expect them to seriously consider the request at all.  But after several years, respond they did, and by popular demand installed coffee machines.  And for a good solid month I enjoyed free coffee–nothing great, but a drinkable instant coffee blend.  Quick and effective.

toxic
This is how the work coffee comes in

Then, someone cut costs and changed the blend.  Now, I can drink some pretty awful coffee, but overnight, the coffee had turned into toxic waste.  And toxic waste is probably less bitter–you know, the glowing green kind?  Sadly, I returned to making my own.  But the years passed and the machines remained, so someone had to of been drinking it.  Upon this realization, I started more closely observing who was still getting cups of the sludge.  They all fell into a certain demographic: from Sales, tall, men, middle-aged.  I wondered why successful businessmen were less picky about the quality of their coffee.  Then, I considered my father-in-law.  He is a retired defense-contractor engineer.  He also drinks Folgers.

I wondered: is coffee quality preference inversely proportionate to income level?  To answer this question, I decided to waste time and put off auditing the emails I needed to send out.

To quantify this correlation, I needed figures.  I felt it was safe to assume that the cost of the coffee blend increases with its quality.  What I needed then, were some salary figures.  To graph the slope, I only needed two points.  The first point was easy: take the most expensive coffee I see regularly in grocery stores: $15 a bag; and the lowest income bracket, minimum wage: $15,080.  For the second point, I needed the cost of the cheapest instant coffee available (what I presumed was being used in the machines at work).  Courtesy of Amazon, I found it at $3.33 a bag.  Then, consulting the various online utilities designed to inform the masses that everyone’s underpaid, I found the average salary for an experienced Sales manager to be around $115,000.  Now I had two points.  It was time to calculate the equation.

First, I calculated the cost per ounce of each coffee.  Going off a 12-ounce bag, the expensive coffee was $1.25 and the cheap coffee was $0.28.  But, to make these number more manageable for a formula, I multiplied by 100 to use cents, creating nice whole numbers to work with: 125 and 28.

With standard algebra, we can calculate the slope with (Y2-Y1)/(X2-X1):

(28-125)/(115000-15080)=~-0.000970777, or if you want to follow significant figures, -0.00097.

Following Y=MX+B, we need B to be X0 (in this case, the baseline of minimum wage) to equal the $15 coffee mark.  But first we divide by 100 to bring the scale back down.  After doing so, B is simply calculated to be 140.  Final formula:

((Slope*Salary)+140)/100

Peet'sSadly, I could not find an online calculator that provides coffee products by cost per ounce.  Searching for one only yielded a number of self-righteous articles criticizing how much coffee costs and how stupid people are for buying Keurigs or going to coffee shops.  But I did plug some numbers into the calculator, and my own coffee preference: Peet’s, ranks approximately by cost the type of coffee I should be buying.  So once again, the math doesn’t lie:

https://moorheadfamily.net/data/coffee3.xlsx

Aqua Vitae

–Simon

Get Off My Lawn! (Part 4)

Work continues on the rain garden–a project whose purpose is ever-more apparent with the recent downpour.  With the ugly gravel pit juxtaposed to the greening lawn, and the last frost date looming, I completed some preliminary additions.

I’m assuming that the garden’s flood/drought cycle will make it perfect for succulents, and as they were already bursting at the seams of their peat pots, I indulged their eagerness and buried the pots in the stone.  Also, I relocated some volunteer tiger lilies, which were wedged against the house’s foundation, predicting that they were hardy candidates for repeated flood cycles.  Now, again I wait.

water garden

–Simon

St. Augustine

Last week we visited St. Augustine.  From the perspective of humanity, Florida really sucks.  I hate the people.  I hate the culture.

However, focusing on the the biome itself (which is my preference), I did find it interesting.  The warmer climate reminded me of my own childhood,  and also served as a respite from the lingering Ohio winter.  So, phone in hand, I cataloged points of interest:

palm
Palm trees! Obligatory photo of a flora novel to a Midwesterner
view
My daughter’s first view of the ocean–I wonder if this moment will form a permanent memory
lizard
Not sure how a small reptile can appear cute, but they do
spanish moss
I just really like Spanish moss
glamor
A young model in the making? Maybe I can get a contract with Target
dinner
I watched this lizard repeatedly attempt to eat this inchworm, but it was behind the screen. The battle moved behind the board, so I never saw the outcome
dunes
These dunes triggered childhood memories of White Sands National Park
turtle
Tortuga
tracks
A sandpiper had left tracks, creating this pleasant beach scene

–Simon