Kan’t Kinect!

There was a fundamental flaw in our new TV setup: the Kinect doesn’t operate properly from such a low angle. Sitting on the coffee table just under the TV, it’s unable to accurately capture full-body movement.

How can I be expected to express myself under these conditions? How can I possibly throw a javelin 100 yards, or chop flying fruit into a 30 pieces, or even plug 20,000 leaks in my underwater glass cube if the Digital Eye cannot see my every action? What will come of my pet tiger — his name is Pounce — if I’m not there to scratch behind his ears when the TV tells me to? It is truly a gaming conundrum.
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Puppy Love

Gift-Giving Anxieties
I get a ridiculous surge of anxiety whenever someone is about to unwrap a present I foolishly crafted my own two hands. Is it gonna be cool enough? Is it big enough? Will they like it? Will they like me?!

I don’t suppose the hint of sleep deprivation after finishing them at 5am this morning does much for my anxieties.
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Spill-silient Wine!

My mother-in-law has a particularly impressive ability to both spill wine and break wine glasses.  These are, of course, not mutually exclusive occurrences, but generally one does follow the other and, more often than not, in a fantastic spectacle of coordination.

It’s fluid motion these days: knocking over the glass; spilling the wine; cleaning the red stain! But, while Wine Away is our favoured companion for spraying away our red wine woes in a matter of minutes, I decided to make a preemptive strike to retain some of our stain-removing reserves.
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Story Dice…Eternally Limited Edition

While I vowed not to make any Christmas presents after last year’s wooden gift extravaganza, in the final hour, I inevitably buckled in the face of the alternative:  Spending more time in the mall.

And so for one of my gifts, I made a set of Story Dice.  These are quite simply 6-sided dice with pictures on each side, but the fun is in how you use them.  All you need to do is roll a handful of story dice across the floor and you have the beginnings of a magical fairy tale!
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Nyan Cat-omaton!

For the past couple months, I have been avoiding the shop.  It was a long battle to plead for garage permit approval only to boil down to 30 torturous minutes in a meeting with the horrible Board of Variance.  Their ignorance on the situation and their strangely biased comments against “the young people” moving into the neighbourhood culminated to the anger and deep hatred I feel for them at this moment; but in the end, I’m at a loss for words.  It is clearly a story for another time.
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New Blog in Town

I’ve been pretty immersed in work these last few weeks, so haven’t been down in the shop in quite some time.

Plus…I kinda got a new “toy”… So I’ve started a new blog to document a new hobby.  But don’t worry, I haven’t abandoned this hobby!  Just taking a break while I mentally prepare for my Committee meeting with the Board of Variance later this week!

In the meantime, if you’re interested:


Garage Variances Pending Approval

After many runs at this project, I have finally settled on a design for the garage.

It felt like we were back in University, madly driving back-and-forth to Staples to make mass copies of the project report and assembling them on the living room floor in order to meet the fast-approaching morning deadline.

But it is done…and…it. is. GLORIOUS.
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Metamorphosis: Constructing the Caterpillar

I often lament the impracticality of subsidizing our west-coast life will selling homemade wooden toys.  My personally slow production rate notwithstanding, even the simplest wooden toy would take Geppetto several hours or even days.  Throw me into the fold and you have yourself an epic project spanning the odd evening hours over several weeks to make something you could buy at Walmart for under $30.
In the wake of mass production, I can only assume genuine toymakers are a dying breed in North America.  That being said, I will one day use this blog to document my bumbling efforts to build a personal CNC machine using one of my 14 decade-old computers collecting dust in my basement…but only after I build my garage…and then a new sideboardand then after I rebuild the deck…move the interior staircaserenovate the kitchen…add some french doors…

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Granville Island wasn’t particularly close to where I grew up, so we didn’t go there too frequently.  However, on the summery days where the temperature was ranking in the +20s and mom craved mussels and oysters enough to defy the law of “months that end in ‘r’”, we’d pack up the car and venture into the City.

The trip to Granville Island would always come to an end with the pervasive scent of fish when my mom would eagerly sift through pools of seafood for our dinner that evening.
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