Wait...

what was I doing?

Where's my pencil?

What does this cryptic note mean: 'vague recollections of the weird square thingy'?

How do I log in to my computer again?

Password... password... password... I'm sure I had one.

D'oh. Return from very busy time away. Man. I'm sure there was a plan around here someplace.

More antics from Captain...

It's been a week now, and Captain has clearly settled in. He went for big hikes yesterday at the VLA, and had a wonderful time. He was good both on and off the leash, and then came home and snoozed the rest of the evening. He snores. Little whiffly dog snores. It's painfully cute. He also plays with toys, which is new for us.

Today, J joined the lunch group at DJ's. He was oddly nervous, but of course got along fine. Everyone should have a stuffed sopapilla from DJ's at least once in their life. Seriously. It's practically a religious experience. Everyone was very interested in his reaction to Socorro. I know why---people often really, really hate it. But, as J says, green chile sure makes up for a lot of empty space!

What is UP with...

scientists who are also programmers? (apologies to J, who is not this type...)

Here's the gist of a recent conversation:

Me: Does this widget graph the sum or the average?

Him: Average, but it doesn't matter.

Me: Yes it does.

Him: The only difference is that you divide by the number of pixels. It's a constant. It doesn't matter.

Me: But most of my pixels contain only noise. So the average doesn't tell me what I need to know. The average tells me there's nothing there, because on average, there isn't.

Him: You're just off by a constant.

Me: Sort of. But not really. I'm really beating down the signal, by averaging over all the noise. If I sum, I know how much signal I have, but if I average, I know some kind of signal per pixel, which is really, really tiny, because I'm looking at emission in a really tiny area. That's not what I want it to do. I want to see a graph of the signal, and I can't do that if I've just averaged it to zero.

Him: So just multiply by the number of pixels.

Me: But the way the widget works, I get there by drawing a box with the mouse around the object, and the widget doesn't tell me how many pixels it has. And anyway, how am I supposed to do a multiplication in the widget, so I get a graph of what I want?

Him: So just make a one pixel box.

Me: But that's a huge pain. Why should I have to go and make a bunch of one pixel boxes, when if I could just get the sum, it wouldn't be a problem? And how is that going to help anyway, because I don't have a way to add the pixels together again?

Him (condescendingly): You're not making any sense. It's just a constant offset, and it doesn't matter. I mean, come on. It's basic arithmetic. If you divide, and then you multiply, that's the same as not doing anything at all.

Me: (sigh. Rapid silent search for compromise...) Can you humor me, and make it so I can choose if it will sum or average? Some people might want one or the other.

Him: (walking away from me...) That doesn't make any sense. No. It averages. That's what it does.

Me: (grumble, grumble, grumble)

Now I am trying to figure out a way to sum, but not average.

Grumble, grumble...

Some Perspective

It's pretty hard, right at the moment, to keep everything in perspective. Between all of our own personal dramas, the local dramas that come with the tragically bizarre collapse of the economy, and the global dramas that come from not being able to keep our grubby mitts off yesterday's sunshine, a person can get seriously overwhelmed.

But then, you get to see this.


Please allow me to interpret the sci-jarg. The dot in the middle of the left image is an optical image of a galaxy that formed very early in the Universe. How early? About 12.8 billion years ago. You are looking at it as it forms, because the light that left during formation is just now getting to us. Ok. Go away and think about that for a minute, because that should blow your mind right there.

Back? Ok. The image on the right is of the same object, in the radio. Specifically, you are looking at the light emitted from carbon monoxide (CO). Go away again, and ponder the existence of carbon monoxide, only 870 million years after the Big Bang. Need some help with the staggering-ness? C and O form in stars. The existence of CO means there were stars that lived AND died before this big cloud could form. AND the cloud had time to cool enough for the C and the O to get together and share some electrons over coffee and a biscuit. AND the cloud had time for gravity to begin to draw it together to form something new. 870 Myrs is not very long for all of that to happen! The first stars must have been very, very massive, and very, very short-lived in order to get all this done in that short time. So, go. Ponder.

Back? Ok. So now you have to think about this. You are looking at a supermassive black hole (some millions of times the mass of the sun), and a giant elliptical galaxy (trillions of times the mass of the sun, eventually forming trillions of stars) being 'born'---at the same time, in the place, very early in the history of the Universe. Staggeringly, this is exactly how we thought it should happen. Staggeringly, I can explain it to you. Staggeringly, you can understand. Score one for the teeny-tiny, microscopic gray matter connections inside your head.

One of the biggest comforts of being an astronomer is knowing that the vast majority of the Universe doesn't care about me. It just does what it does. It goes on in all its profligate excesses of space and time, and all its random happenstance, whether or not I'm paying any attention at all.

Another comfort is that I am paying attention. And my own little gray matter adds its little pieces to the puzzle, which are written down, and so will be remembered long after we've forgotten all this year's particular drama, and the last of yesterday's sunshine is all used up.

Surprise! A conference...

Well, other people knew about it, I'm sure...

There are ~95 people here for three days for a conference about the EVLA, and galaxy formation and evolution across all redshifts. (While this is not an area of special interest for me, personally, I can still learn a lot!)

I didn't have to plan. I didn't have to travel. I don't even have to present (which is good, because it was a surprise to me, and I'm not an expert in galaxies!!).

This is almost sinfully easy. Just sit there, and let the conferences come to you... Ahhh...

Love comes walkin' in.

It's been a rough couple of weeks, filled with loss and sorrow and grief. The loss of Cassie, the loss of our good friend Chris, the sorrow of our good friend Nereyda. Monumental events and changes and mind-numbing grief. Even the little things seemed to go wrong, and I spent more time these few weeks waiting for the plumber than I usually do all year. Grief brought inattention, and therefore myriad small mistakes, and very little energy in reserve to help deal with them. Sometimes, sorrow comes to visit, and decides to stay a while, leaving his dirty socks all over the floor, soaking the floor of the bathroom when he showers, going through your stuff, and insisting that you accommodate his special diet of candy, cornflakes, beer and some kind of meat.

But even the sorrow that takes up the spare room and messes up your whole house can't keep joy standing on the porch. Because therapy doesn't always come on the psychiatrist's couch. Sometimes it comes on the sofa at home.

This is Captain. A 3-year-old Australian Shepherd---snook-monster extraordinaire. Never has a dog liked so many scratches and belly-rubs. Never has a dog's face gone so fast from tightly wrinkled concern, uncertainty and worry to eyes-wide-open, smiling laughter. Never has a dog made a faster transition from curled-up-flat-eared-defensive to flat-on-his-back, open-to-all-experiences, begging-for-tummy-rubs.

And never have we been so grateful to be the kind of people who sometimes leap even when we can't quite see the bottom.

Goodbye, Cassie...

Last Friday, we lost our best friend to a fierce, but blessedly short, battle with cancer. Today, I've been thinking about why the house feels so completely empty, even though it's only 60 pounds emptier than it was last week.

Cassie made us come home from work. We have the kinds of jobs that never close and are never finished. People like us need someone to make us turn off the computer and come home, and then turn off the computer again. She made us get outside and go for walkies, even in the snow or rain or fierce heat of summer. She made us wait to go in to work until after dawn. She made us laugh with her antics, and kept us from sleeping all day when we were sad. She made us stop and look at the beautiful view while we waited for her to stop chasing moose and come back to us. She made us clean up the kitchen right away, and pack up the leftovers, and put the bread away before we left the house or went to bed. She'd show up at the bedside with the baguette sticking out of both sides of her face, wiggling for all she's worth; 'Papa, can I have this?' She ate the extra rice from the Chinese food place, and cleaned up the crumbs under the table. But she NEVER, EVER licked the dishes in the dishwasher. (That's still a mystery to me...) Anyone saying 'Oops!' in the kitchen suddenly had company, even if she was sound asleep on the sofa.

Cassie tracked mud all over the house, so we had to get the vacuum out and scrub the floors. There was always a muddy towel on the porch near the back door---a badge of the 'feet wipes' after the last muddy hike in Strong's Creek. She was famous in Washington for finding spawned salmon, other dead fish or seals. A flying leap from 6 feet away; a turn in midair; her shoulder landing with a 'splorsh'; an unbearable stench, and happy, smiling dog face. We'd drive home with our heads hanging out the car window, and Cassie just as happy as can be in the backseat. Sometimes she ate god-only-knows-what, and heaved it up in a little pile in the living room at midnight. We'd be out of bed at the first heave, and almost never got her all the way out the door in time. But she was always sorry about it, as only a dog can be sorry---all puppy-dog eyes and feet in the air.

Her hair got in the furnace filter, which reminded us to change it once in a while. It got in the lint trap in the dryer, and in the sheets, and behind the sofa cushions. It got under the bookcases, and behind the refrigerator, and under the bed. We had to buy special cleaning tools to reach those places. We probably never would have cleaned the car if she didn't make it such a mess sometimes.

She took us camping, and crawled into the sleeping bags when it was really, really cold. She watched the chukkar babies, lying in perfect stillness, only rolling her eyes to follow their movement through the campsite, sitting up to smile and dog-laugh only after they'd gone. She let us know where the skunks were. She let us know when someone was on the property. She let us know when friends were at the door, or when it was the ultimately evil UPS man. She made us cut short visits with friends, and trips to just about everywhere. We had to make special plans if we wanted to go out at night, because she'd get spiteful and surgically slice the straps on our work-bags if we left her all day AND all evening. She knew she was too good for that, and was not going to put up with that kind of behavior. We had to look at every package that came into the house, to see if it would be interesting to her. This, after a 50 pound bag of flour wound up spread all over the kitchen carpet, drooled on, and worked into the carpet fibers, dried on like cement. Yummy. She made us finally get rid of the ugly carpet we hated anyway.

A lot of people see these things as a pain. They roll their eyes and say, 'How can you STAND it?!' But these things are a gift. Learning to compromise, to accommodate, to think as a completely different species thinks and see the world as a completely different species sees it, reminds us that there IS another way. Everything she did made sense to her, even if it was a mystery to us. Making room for a creature with such a different way of being, finding a way to communicate and to love and to share beyond the species barrier, sharpened our skills for reading not only dogs, but also each other.

Of course the house feels empty. That's because it is.

On sabbatical from my sabbatical...

That's it. I'm outta here! Goin' home for T-day.

Back on 1 December.

Happy Thanksgiving to one and all.

The upside of having a 'boss'...

Sometimes, it's really fun to have a 'boss'. Just yesterday, I finished the software audit that was supposed to take me until April. This morning, he tells me it's just what he wanted, only better.

So now I get to sit around and look pretty, while my 'boss' scrambles to figure out what to do with me for the next four months...

(Of course, I'll be busily pulling data out of the archive, and getting some science done in the meantime...)

It's fun to watch 'em sweat.

It's like 4th of July, for astronomers.

I finally figured out what was wrong with Lorant's maser data. The techs had reset an antenna position in the middle of the run. So 75% of the data was flagged on import. D'oh. So I fixed it, and re-calibrated.

Now, I have a little movie that goes through the image cube, from one end of the spectral window to the other. And when I watch the little movie, the masers light up and fade out sequentially. All over the spatial dimensions.

It's like itty-bitty, noiseless fireworks.

Just for me.

Oh yeah. Weekends.

I know this will make all of you nutty, but I just had a weekend. You remember those. I woke up on Saturday, and pretty much had nothing on the agenda but laundry, and dinner at a friend's house. Two hours later, laundry was done. So I went for a bike ride. I had no particular place to go. It was just nice out, so I rode my bike.

Then on Sunday, I woke up and had nothing on the agenda at all. I went out to breakfast at the coffee shop, and ran into some friends, so we ate together. Then I went for a walk to the duck pond. I wandered over to the NMT library to flip through their magazines. I went to the grocery store to buy a pencil. I sketched for a while, and took a nap, and then listened to music. Then I read a book.

I had forgotten that it was possible to get up in the morning and have nothing planned. Oh, yeah, and not immediately MAKE plans, out of sheer panic! ; )

Can I just say...

I love my phone? This is what technology should be.

Yesterday, I finally straightened out a bunch of passwords and so on. Yes, yes, I should have done this weeks and weeks ago. But I didn't. Because I'm the kind of person who doesn't always solve problems right away if they require me to figure out a new approach... sad, but true.

So anyway. I now have a budget spreadsheet for keeping track of my expenses, several 'print' books, a number of audiobooks, music, games, tv shows and movies. All in my phone.

Ever since I arrived in Socorro, I've been using it to keep up with NPR, because local NPR doesn't carry a lot of things I really like at KUER. Marketplace, for example. How am I supposed to understand the economy without Marketplace?! How did I live before streaming audio from NPR?!

And I've used it to navigate, schedule appointments, look stuff up on the inter-web, connect with friends and family, check email from home and the laundromat, track packages, obsessively keep track of the stock market, make to-do lists, watch videos on YouTube, keep up my address book, and take, send and post photographs. I've also used it as an alarm clock to wake me up, and as a stopwatch to keep speakers on track at a conference.

This morning, I am doing a very tedious job of creating a spreadsheet that keeps track of the CASA project, and needed some new tunes to keep me going. So I purchased and downloaded the new Van Morrison. Right here at my desk. I just have to say, 'Way to go, Apple! I don't know how I ever got along without it!'

What are you using your phone for?

Sometimes...

you just need a manager.

Which sounds funny coming from me, but it's true.

I was ranting to J about how this whole software project seems to lack a coherent vision, and any way of reporting problems, progress, etc.

Then I find out there IS no manager.

They are trying to hire one.

Have been for quite some time.

The project's doing pretty well for a bunch of scientists and developers just getting stuff done with no deadlines, meetings, oversight, or conflict resolver.

Back to work...

So, with all that election chaos and emotion, you might be under the impression that no work is getting done.

But you'd be wrong!

I've acquired data (from the archive) on six masering OH/IR stars.
I've duly calibrated and reduced spectral-line data on two of these objects. I actually did that twice, because:
I've found two more bugs in the CASA code, and reported them to those who can fix 'em.
And then I reported a bug that wasn't a bug. It was just me not understanding what the code did. Oops.
I've found several unhelpful error messages that need to be reworded so that novice users will know what they've done wrong.
I've re-organized the CASA spreadsheet o' tasks, so that everything is not priority 1. Scientists. Sheesh.
I've investigated Bugzilla, Mantis and a couple of other programs as a better way to report problems to the development team. This, by the way, is a priority 1 task in the spreadsheet... ; )

So, that's all good. Especially since spectral line data is big and slow, and cleaning it can take your computer as long as four hours. If you do it right. The first time. Which never happens. ; )

Oh, and I also created a sweet Google-docs worksheet for the environmental physics class, as part of the semester-long project students are going to be doing. During which, I learned about solar hot-water heater installations.

And I read the appalling and terrible (but well-written and vitally important) book 'The Weather Makers' by Tim Flannery. Yep. Sometimes there's nothing to do but lay on the sofa and cry for the golden toad (extinct) and the polar bear (soon to be so). So now I know a lot more about climate change. That'll be helpful, as soon as I can wrap my head around it.

I list this all here, because I was thinking that nothing was getting done, and it was depressing me. But now I can go back to work, mightily cheered up!

Odd. Tomorrow is Veteran's Day. It's an NRAO holiday. And we're supposed to actually stay home. On a holiday. What's up with that?

The Man

is spending this morning at parent-teacher conferences with Michelle.

And all of America is going 'Oh, crap. When's my parent-teacher conference? Oh crap. I'd better hitch up my pants, put a belt on and get my sorry butt to my kids' school.'

I keep fearing to get let down. And then he walks the walk, and does things I didn't even expect, that are such powerful messages to the people. Who ever would have expected that the president-elect of the United States of America, the most powerful person on the entire planet, would spend the Friday morning of election week in parent-teacher conferences?

For me, the higher standard is the parent-teacher conference, and not the solving of the economic crisis. Although I expect that too. Just, sort of, you know, if he can squeeze it in while he's changing the culture of the country to include things like responsible parenting, and caring about the future. Oh. He's on it? And getting advice from a wide array of stakeholders and experts? Even people of varying points of view? No lobbyists allowed? Oh. Good. Right on. I'll go back to responsibly doing my job then, and wait to hear about how I can help with the most excellent plan that will no doubt be devised.

Oh, another one.

which lives in my head in Spanish, not English.

My first natively Spanish thought.

Si. Se puede.

And this one... which is Spanglish... sort of...

Obamanos.

Giddiness...

We did it! After four weeks of stomping around NM, calling and knocking and heckling and annoying everyone we could find... After J in Utah calling and heckling and annoying people in CO, and even some in UT... After spending all of election Tuesday checking the polls, calling around, giving rides, and dragging people to the polls, calling, calling, calling, as late as 6:45 pm.

After all that... VICTORY!!!

I am still compulsively checking maps.

Is it really happening?

I have these little epiphanies. All last night, I kept waking up with them. And all day today. I suddenly stop typing, or trying to figure out what happened to my graphics display, or trying to figure out why my bandpass fails in the 245th channel. I suddenly am stopped dead in my tracks, and bits of words and fragments of images fly like birds across my mental landscape. Sunlight glints off of feathers.

We won.

HOPE vs. fear.

We saved ANWR.

Solar panels.

No offshore drilling.

Wind turbines.

Boots.

No one else to die for my car.

Education.

Service.

Ask not what your country can do for you...

Ask. of me.

Hope. Hope. Hope.

Roe v. Wade.

The Constitution.

Sex ed.

All people. Everywhere. ALL. Include. Encompass. Allow. Appreciate. Embrace. Enfold. Lift. Let fly.

The Supreme Court.

Nina Totenberg.

The Constitution.

Warrants for wire tapping.

Medicine for children.

Education.

Science.

... BECAUSE it is hard.

Help for the elderly.

Homes for the homeless.

Homes for the poor.

Homes for our veterans.

Homes.

Home.

Hope.

GOTV

Go. Vote. Seriously.

I have been spending evenings and weekends canvassing for the Obama campaign. If you think things are bad for you, you should come spend some time in the barrio in Socorro. I have had some of the most amazing conversations with people. I talked for nearly half an hour with a guy who doesn't vote anymore, because the political system has failed him. What would get him to vote? New boots. He had boots straight out of the Great Depression---holes, cardboard, staples, yup. He worked as a laborer his whole life. Then he retired, mostly broken, at 65. SS no longer makes ends meet, Medicare doesn't cover his bills, and he's back to work. At 80 years old. With boots that have holes in them. Can't we do better than this for our elderly?

Or how about the veteran. I knocked on his door. Well, sort of a door. Just because you can see through the gaps around the frame doesn't mean it's not a door, right? He comes to the door in his wheelchair to answer it. I tell him I'm with the Obama campaign, and I'm working to get out the vote. As a veteran, he feels he needs to vote for McCain. I tell him I understand that, but would like to let him know about early voting anyway, and inquire if he needs a ride to the polls. Turns out he does. Can't we do better than this for our veterans?

So then I'm on the phones. Five elderly or disabled people took me up on our offer for a ride to the polls. They had no other way to get there. Several people needed help with their absentee ballots (Fill in the ovals all the way. Sign the outside. Put three stamps on.) Can't we do better than this for our citizens?

On Saturday, we are having a matanza on the plaza, to help get out the early voters. Free food always draws 'em in. For many of the people I talked to in the barrio, this will be the only time their children's bellies are full all week. Can't we do better than this for the poor?

And what about the woman I talked to on the phone who just lost her entire retirement savings in the stock market? Or the woman in the barrio who's holding down three jobs, and trying to get her kids to school? Or the man I talked to on the phone who has lost hope that America will ever live up to its ideals?

Even when I lived in Camden, NJ; even when I was teaching convicts in the penitentiary to read; even when I was planting community gardens in the poorest, most-crime-ridden neighborhood in one of the most violent cities in America; even when I was visiting some of the most inner-city of all inner-city grade schools in the country; even here, in the mostly Spanish-speaking barrios in Socorro; I have never, not even one time, met someone who fit the description 'undeserving poor'. It's a myth. A legend. A construct to make unfairness and unkindness seem acceptable. An invention that makes people feel better as they drive by the homeless guy, eyes averted. He's undeserving. I am not responsible. He's lazy. There is nothing I can do. He doesn't want to work. It's not my responsibility. He wants to be homeless. It's not my responsibility, it's not my responsibility, it's not my responsibility.

Go. Vote.

And then. (Yes, there's more.) Get involved. How many groups in your neighborhood could use your help---not your money, but your help? The library, the public schools, the food bank, the homeless shelter, the animal shelter, your local museums... all of these institutions are struggling, just as you are. Even if you've got no money to give, you can still do something to help out at the library, at the food bank. Pick one insitution. Pick one cause. Pick one person. Do something. Anything. I promise, it will make you feel big and strong and powerful. And it will fill you with hope. Isn't that better than television?

All these people the politicians are talking about---the hardworking rich, the undeserving poor, the noble poor, or the profligate rich---all these people are just people. They are your friends and your neighbors and the kids down the street. Just people. Just like you. Just trying to get by, any way they can. And some of 'em could have their lives turned around by getting a ride when they need it. Or a new pair of boots.

Go. Volunteer. Be part of your world. Have the courage to say 'Yes', 'I believe', and 'I will' (to paraphrase Taylor Mali). Have the courage to do something truly scary, and open yourself up to other people. I'll see you out there.

Never mind...

Weird results... still there.

Turns out that during the period of my observations, they had some trouble with the instrumentation labeling sources incorrectly. So my calibrator was called by the name of my target, and vice-versa. CASA, apparently, knew about this, but AIPS did not.

So when I went to look at my target in AIPS, it was a point source. Which it should have been, because it was actually the calibrator. And then my calibrator was extended. Which it should have been, because it was actually my target. Did you catch that?

Un-poof.

Phew.

That's over and done with. It went fine. The person who spoke before me (lunch talks are split here, so that they are more informal than most...) had a hard time. He had to defend both his data and his method. Fortunately, I got to present what I'm GOING to do. That's easier. And more fun!

In other news, I've been unable to reproduce my weird results on the nebula in the old software. I have one more thing I want to try before I let it go. It's possible that during the 'cleaning' process, I invented the extended emission. So I'm going to go back and redo it in the new software. That's science for ya---sometimes exciting results just... poof!... evaporate.

Holding pattern...

I have to give a 20-minute talk today at noon. I haven't given a 20 minute talk in, like, ever. Ok. That's not true. I did it just two weeks ago. But I got heckled a lot at that talk, because I was telling people something they didn't want to hear (namely that it's time scientists stepped up and took responsibility for the fact that the public don't know what they are doing...). This time, I'm going to be telling them something they don't want to hear about---stellar astronomy is a hard sell in a radio astronomy crowd. Most radio astronomers are interested in either

a) the nuts and bolts of radio astronomy, nearly literally. They love to know all the gory details about the circuitry, and the closure phases, and the system temperatures and the antenna gain. Blah, blah, blah. or

b) they are interested in extra-galactic astronomy. i.e. other galaxies, or the origin of gamma ray bursts, or supermassive black holes and their jets. Not stars. Not even dying ones.

So, walking in the door, I'm at a disadvantage. This is not an unfamiliar situation. As a physics professor, I'm used to talking to people who think they don't care about what I have to say.

On the other hand, also as a professor at a teaching institution, I'm a MUCH better speaker than most. I could be talking about paint drying and be more interesting than a lot of these presenters. (Very smart people, mostly personable in person, somehow convinced that all talks should be as devoid of personality as possible...)

But still, I will find it hard to get anything done this morning. My talk is ready, already. So I'm in a bit of a holding pattern, trying to concentrate on AIPS, while in the background of my head, there's a loop running of what I want to say in my talk. It's very distracting.

'That can't be right.'

Hmmm.

So I've got this cool data, right? And that's fun and everything. But here's the thing. The image I have, taken this summer, is tilted 90 degrees from prior imaging in the same band. It's also twice the size. It's also bipolar in my two IF's (so at one frequency band, the left lobe appears, and in the other, the right lobe does). At first, without thinking very hard about it, I thought I understood that, but now I'm not sure. This is continuum emission, remember, not line emission. Even if it's Doppler-shifted to higher freq in one lobe and lower in the other, both lobes should at least show up. I shouldn't be able to detect such a thing, unless I'm coincidentally looking at a 5 GHz molecular line (the only one I know off-hand is formaldehyde (H2CO)... that's a pretty complex molecule for this environment) in a rotating disk or bipolar 'jets', and not getting any continuum at all. Not getting continuum? What's up with that?

So the first thing to do is go back and re-calibrate, and re-image the data using old-school tools (remember that I'm using and testing the new software package?). It is SO HARD to imagine anything that could be wrong in the new software that could produce these discrepancies, and that wasn't found before. I mean, seriously. A 90-degree rotation? Incorrect scaling? Somebody would have noticed these already. I'm sure of it. If Jupiter suddenly showed up twice as big as normal, someone would notice. I don't even know what to say about the IFs.

But it's also SO HARD to imagine an astrophysical scenario that could cause these kinds of changes in the 8-year period that we're talking about...

So that's what I'm doing today. Or, rather, re-doing today.

Kevlar, and Stalin?

Got new bike tires this weekend. The roads do not get swept in Socorro as often as other places, and my canvassing duties are taking me into all kinds of barrios, where the roads are really treacherous for Old Blue. My new tires:

"feature a subtread barrier of DuPont Kevlar fabric impregnated with a Kevlar-engineered elastomer that seals all gaps in the fabric weave, along with a synthetic cap ply material that prevents sidewall cuts. This technological troika is designed to take whatever the road—or the trail—dishes out."

Isn't that fun? Don't you want a 'technological troika? ; ) The guy at the bike shop felt my pain, and let me talk him into ALSO filling the tube with gel, but was not enthusiastic about adding liners to my supposedly indestructable tires.

In other news, I am now officially the Stalin of the cockroach world. Off they go to the Gulag, with a potato and a spoon made of wire, to slowly starve to death. Oh yeah, or die of poisoned food. If I had planned this out in advance, it would have been so appallingly calculated that the entire planet would shake in fear of me ever even being on City Council. So here's what I did (in case I ever have this problem again, it will be helpful to have documentation): First, for about three weeks, I was irritatingly immaculate about food and water in the house, down to wiping down the water drops from inside the sink when I brushed my teeth, and drying out the tub when I was done taking a shower. The roaches were getting very hungry and thirsty. This cut them down by about 75%---especially the large german browns. I was down to seeing a couple at night in the bathroom---mostly infants. So I started leaving the lights on all night, making it even more uncomfortable for them to come out to forage. HA. I saw even fewer, but anyone who's dealt with roaches knows that they were still there. I just wasn't seeing them. So yesterday, when all the little creatures were more or less starving to death, and all the grownups have gone elsewhere or died, I put down baited traps, and turned out the lights. Dude. In a few minutes, I could HEAR them in there. Ew. So I went to bed. In the middle of the night, and this morning, before dawn, I headed into the bathroom to see how it was going. One dead roach on the floor. Otherwise, nothing. No noises, no roaches, nothing. In the epic, millenia-long battle of humans v. roaches, score one for humans. Give it a couple more days, and I might actually feel comfortable eating in my own house!

Totally, even sweeter astronomy...

So, of course, the second thing you do is go read IN DETAIL, every single paper that ever even mentioned the interesting source you've just taken a picture of. Including the theory papers. Buried in those theory papers, you find a reference to a Nature paper, that you didn't find before, for who knows what reason.

And in THAT paper, (in 2001), Miranda et al. report that the age of the photo-ionized inner region of the nebula, deep down in the round part, near the center, is 15 years*.

Not a typo.

15.

years.

This nebula transitioned from proto-planetary nebula to planetary nebula in 1985. That was the year I started high school. Wow. How fun is that?!

That's every reason to study these objects, right there. They change during your lifetime, which is extremely unusual for astronomy!

* How do they know? This is a 'dynamical age'. Basically, they measure the velocity of the outflowing ionized gas (using the Doppler Effect), measure the size of the region (which is where you are going to have errors, because the distances are usually poorly determined), and then you divide the size by the speed to get the age. (This is the same logic as saying that you traveled 60 miles at 30 miles per hour, so it took you two hours.)

Totally sweet radio astronomy...

Ok. So this is totally sweet. Look at those maps. Two maps of the same object at two different (but close together) radio wavelengths. It's a bipolar planetary. The primary emission at the central peak overlaps, as does the emission fAwesome!rom the bump to the west. The southeast lobe in the right-hand map is nearly mirror image of the northwest extended lobe+bump! This is really rare. We are seeing radio emission from the bipolar axes of the nebular outflow. What does it mean? It means that my little fishing expedition paid off, and we have an object that should be examined in LOTS more detail to look for magnetic fields! Sweet!

p.s. It's also fun that in the right image, there's a big Easter Island statue at the top. that's random... I'll have to look in the catalogs for a background object...

The problem with problems... part II.

I got this response to 'the problem with problems' from a friend in 'industry':

Yes, the problem with the Problems -- what I would suggest you look into. . . How are the Project teams, -- and the Management of the project teams -- being rewarded. . . . if those two teams had the same set of rewards (bonus pools, targets. . ) would that bring cohesion to the group.

which was eye-opening. This is so interesting. So, we don't really do this in academia/science centers. I don't know anyone who's EVER gotten a bonus! I never really thought about it, but I guess it's expected that everyone is so invested in what they are doing, and so aware of how many people are relying on them, that we don't really have a 'reward structure' as such. Of course, you can be denied tenure, or promotion if you do a bad job, but that's a stick and not a carrot... much less effective, generally.

Even raises don't necessarily go with merit, an idea that would probably make my industry friend cringe. This is because the institutions are so strapped for cash that they often don't even make CoL increases, much less have extra for merit. In Utah, it's not uncommon for the legislature, year after year, to cut state university budgets, no matter what we do. This has, in the past, resulted in multiple consecutive years of no raises at all, and occasionally even pay cuts for faculty. This, while the institutions were growing in enrollment by leaps and bounds.

It's an interesting problem, because it leaves people feeling like they have no control, and are not valued. They can meet all their 'targets', increase enrollment, recruit new students, get more grants, do more research, publish more papers, and still see an effective pay cut. They can grow the University and it's reputation, produce a 'better product' that clearly people want to 'buy', and still, they see no reward for going above and beyond.

Come to think of it, this is probably the exact reason that so many 'government' projects come in late and over budget. There are actually effective penalties built into the system for coming in on-time and under budget.

But that doesn't mean it HAS to be that way. We're always being asked to run ourselves 'more like a business'. Presumably that would mean building in a reward structure, if that's the way it's done in business, right? Right?

I wonder what a reward structure in academia would look like? Does it really make sense to talk about year-end bonuses? That might be an effective, relatively low-cost way to improve faculty/staff retention, but on the other hand, depending on the criteria, it could put in pressures that we don't really want in the system... It never really occurred to me to wonder about the carrot before, because I was so busy worrying about the stick that I wasn't even looking for a carrot.

HA!

I now have calibrated data.

So there, evil demons of antenna noise. You have been slain.

Oh. That sounds kind of weird. But honestly, half of calibrating data is rooting out bad data, (bad because of line noise or equipment failure or whatever), and then killing it with a click of the mouse. It's sort of super-hero-ish. Vanquishing the obscuring forces of chaos to get at the real Universe, sort of thing.

No. That sounds even weirder.

Oh well. You're all used to me by now!

Sorry!

the last was so long. I was working through some ideas that have been swimming in my head a long time!

The problem with problems...

One of the things I've noticed, from traveling around to lots of places, and working in lots of different institutions, large and small, is that the problems are always the same. And no one seems to know what to do about them!

So, for example, I had lunch today with a long-time NRAO staffer. I got him talking about what it's like to work here, and he immediately began talking about the things NRAO did NOT have: not enough staff, not enough time, not enough money. And then a few things he had too much of: too much management, making too much money, too many assignments and things to do to ever get them all done with the available manpower, and too many meetings.

So I asked him what he could do about it. After a few moments of looking at me blankly, he said he'd hire more staff. Which is jumping into the middle of the problem, instead of beginning at the beginning. There are an entire host of reasons why you can't start there (especially as random staffer). But instead of saying 'that's not a good starting point', he says, 'so I can't do anything'.

So then I asked him about the particular project that I'll be working on. His take is that 'they don't know what they are doing'. 'They' have spent a lot of man-hours, a lot of money, and a lot of years, developing a product that doesn't meet specs.

So I asked him about his project. He doesn't have enough funding, help, space or time to do it right. And that's the fault of a) management, b) the NSF, and c) Charlottesville (i.e. upper, upper management), in that order.

An interesting set of contrasts there, but a common mindset. Other people's problems are their problems, but his problems are other people's problems.

But here's what I see, at first blush. I see 70, give or take, really, REALLY smart people who are excited about two brand-new, enormous projects. Some things are going really well. The EVLA antenna upgrades, for example, and the new ALMA installation. Other things are not. The correlator is slipping a month per month, CASA is not as functional as it should be, no science is getting done (lots of technical work is, however). But the 'culture of insufficiency', and the entrenched working groups are making it hard for people to get a fresh perspective on what they are doing, and how best to get it done. Everyone is on the defensive, no one is sharing what they are doing, and no one is saying, 'How can I help?' or even, 'Look at you! You go, grrl!' or even, 'It's better than it was yesterday! Nice work!'

Consider the CASA problem. This is new software for the new instruments. But it also works with the old instruments. So, you might think that a smart thing to do would be to get everyone here using CASA to do everything they are doing now (at least, everything that CASA can do already...). No better way to improve the software than to get a focus group of knowledgeable users using it every day, right? No. People who work on CASA work on CASA, but don't use it. People who work on other things use the old software, and complain that CASA doesn't do what they want, the way they want. NO ONE is actually using the new software. In a matter of months, it needs to be up and running and ready to handle the vast new data sets coming in from the new instruments. OMG. Can we get some help here?!

And I contrast this with my home department, where a solid core of us are always working together on various projects; where people jump in and say 'how can I help?' practically every day; where conversations in the hallway are filled with excitement and energy about something new someone's going to try. There's a sense of bringing a problem before the group to try to actually make progress toward solving it. The culture of the department is the culture of people who are fully occupied in a life they feel is important, valued, and worthwhile. It's a culture of people who respect each others' gifts, even when they vary wildly. And when someone comes up with a new idea, this core group of people say, 'Go for it!'. At least, that's how it looks to me... and that's how it looked to our program reviewers too, who were completely wowed by us.

So this is what I learned from Craig Hogan. If the culture is stuck and broken, then the functionality of the whole organism is stuck and broken. If people are are too defensive to talk to each other, if people aren't interested in what others are doing, or, alternatively, feel like their opinion doesn't matter, then all the problems seem insurmountable. But if everyone is chatting with everyone else, and helping out whenever they can, and openly expressing interest and respect, and asking questions instead of offering critiques, then it doesn't matter what other resources you do or don't have. The organism functions like a well-oiled machine. People get together to solve problems instead of getting together to whine about them.

This is where I'd suggest the staffer start. By simply walking up to someone, and asking what they are working on, and how it's going. And then listening. Finding something to praise that's going well, and asking what comes next. Setting ego aside long enough to offer help and praise, instead of suggestions or criticism. Assuming, from the get-go, that the person you are talking to has thought hard about what they are doing, and cares deeply about doing a good job. Finding a way to help, even if it means changing the way you are used to doing things. You know---being civil and engaged in the community. Taking responsibility for providing moral support to others who are struggling. It's a start on building a culture that focuses on solving problems, instead of on whining about them.

The weekend...

Wind! Tornados! Eek! But all is well in my exact location.

But I now have furniture, thanks to the furniture rental place---$130/month for all the furniture I can use. Ah, a chair. Sitting is nice.

The farmer's market on Saturday morning supplied me with most of the veggies I'll eat this week. I found a local market that carries local produce (in season), and seems to raise their own cows and pigs (!), although I have to verify that---there are pictures of their county fair winners all over the walls. Socorro is not for those who prefer not to know where their meat comes from!

Yesterday, I signed up to help with the Obama campaign. They have early voting here in NM (a swing state), and mostly, I'll be knocking on doors, making sure people have their sample ballots, and know where (and when) to vote. There's a meeting this afternoon to organize us for the big push to election day. The woman at the office said, 'If we do our job right, election day will be boring, because everyone will have already voted.' It's exciting to be in a state where the outcome of the election is uncertain!

My head... it's on fire!

Wow! Good morning! That's every reason to come to Socorro, right there.

I finally caught the elusive burrito lady. And, unlike the last time I was here, I was not too shy to ask questions!

She tries to get here around 8 am, so she can catch the VLA shift change before the van heads up the mountain. Looks like I'm coming to work at 8 from now on. That's easy, because I won't have to make breakfast before I leave the house!

She sells 5 kinds of burritos out of her cooler---so I could get a different one every day of the week! Two kinds of potato burritos, a bean burrito, a meat and bean burrito, and, of course, the world-famous breakfast burrito. Given that the breakfast burrito sets your head on fire, I can't wait to try the others!

This is going to break the budget---$2.50 per burrito. That's $12.50/week, or $50/month. I'll have to economize on the electric bill. ; )

Someone else came up during our chat, so on Monday, I'll get her name, and find out if she runs a restaurant in town.

Heaven is setting your head on fire first thing in the morning, when the air is so cool you've got your long sleeves and jeans on.

Just outside

Just outside my cubicle is one of the many coffee centers in the
building!

The cubicle

I have the desk by the window. At the moment, no one is at the other
desk.

The SOC

Formerly known as the AOC... In any event, the building where I'm
working! Can I even begin to convey the excitement of working in a building that actually says 'National Science Foundation' on the outside?! I know the NSF has its bureaucratic issues, and sometimes it's hard to access them. But where would we be as a nation without the NSF? I mean, think about it. What a brilliant thing for a nation to do. To decide that knowing about the Universe is SO important that we'll pool our dollars, start a foundation, and then spend decades paying scientists to ask questions, seek answers, look at stuff and figure stuff out. Eventually, they come up with bio-markers that make it possible to fight disease. They discover an understanding of quarks and the fundamental structure of matter. They invent new ways of thinking, and new ways of knowing, and new ways of asking questions.

In this building, some people are trying to understand about outflows from black holes, and some are trying to understand about galaxy formation, and some are trying to understand about how stars are born. Some are 'just' trying to figure out how to make a better interferometer. And, yes, some of us even work really hard to try to understand the shaping mechanisms of dying stars. It's the little pieces that make up the big pieces that make up the sum total of human knowledge. This knowledge is a gift from our forebears, but it comes with an obligation---to add to this total, and to pass it on to the next generation, better than when we received it. That means BOTH doing the research, and telling about it. This is the whole point of having research institutions, teaching institutions, schools AND museums. To make sure that the knowledge gets passed, intact, down the line. It's redundant, with many ways of accomplishing the same goal. But it's not wasted effort. It just means that no one failure will destroy the whole system.

I don't think I ever saw that really, really big picture before. Or got the visceral sense of holding this gift in my hands, with an obligation to care for it, add to it, and pay it forward.

Take that, John McCain. Here, in this building, the American people have spent hundreds of millions of dollars on what you would probably call a 'radio' that makes pictures of the sky, for planetariums to show with an 'overhead projector'. There is no utility here---astronomy is a fundamentally un-useful thing to do. Paradoxically, it's also one of the most important things we do, as human beings. It fulfills a fundamental obligation that makes us, us.

Hovenweep 10

From the rim of this canyon, you hear something totally odd.  Down in the canyon, there are cottonwood trees.  So layered on top of the sound of wind in the desert is the sound of wind in the trees.  It's magnificent.

Hovenweep 9

They don't actually know if this building served any defensive purpose.  But it could have.

Hovenweep 7

More ruins seen from the bottom of the canyon.  I like the bushes, as well.

Hovenweep 7

Ruins seen from the bottom of the canyon.

Hovenweep 8

A doorway?

Hovenweep 7

A doorway?

Hovenweep 7

square houses, round houses, houses with multiple stories, houses with multiple rooms, houses shaped like horse shoes, all built out of mud and sandstone.

Hovenweep 6

A visual joke.

Follow the rocks.  They line the path. 

Oh no!  I'm falling!

Hovenweep 5

Hovenweep 4

Hovenweep 3

Hovenweep 2

Hovenweep 1

D'oh. Segmentation fault.  I have to wait for my script to re-run all the way up to where it had a fit.  Here's a picture of Hovenweep National Monument.  A couple more will follow. 

I've been trying to get over there for years.  It's the largest set of Native American ruins.  They are spectacular.  I didn't even get to see them all, because of the dirt road and the incoming rainstorm.  But even just the ones around the visitor's center are really spectacular.

The notebook

A typical page in a nearly full notebook.  This page, devoted to things I needed to do on the day I left for Socorro.

FrontRunner

The big, beautiful, glorious train.  I read my book.  I organized my thoughts, I double-checked my check list.  Then I just sat there, enjoying the gentle sway, and staring out the window, ironically on the way to my rental car at the airport.

The train is SO, SO much better than driving.

Bus

The bus stop at the train station.

Ok.  This is SOOO under-appreciated.  I picked up the 550 bus here, to go to the airport.  It goes DIRECTLY to the airport.  And it's free.  Seriously.  For everybody, not just us lucky ed-pass holders.

Mammoth Rental Car

It's been a long time since I've driven a Suburban.  The guy at the rental car place said, 'It gets 20 mpg!' like it was something to be proud of.  I was glad to have it (temporarily!), though, because a) it fit all my stuff, and b) there was a time during the trip when I thought I was going to have to sleep in the backseat!  It's plenty big enough for that!

Packed car

While I wait for my data to download from the VLA data server, I have time for a few more quick posts.

If'n I was at home, I'd be grading papers while I wait!

This is a picture of all the things I brought to Socorro with me.  Critical items:

1) bicycle.  I will be car-free during my six months in Socorro.  That's an adventure!

2) bag o' yarn.  I have at least two sweaters and two pairs of socks in there.  I need to decide what to do with the gorgeous alpaca yarn I bought in Peru.

3) books.  But not as many as you'd expect, since lots of them fit in my pods.

Oh, and there are clothes, and pots and pans, and so on, too. 

Turbines

The wind turbines in Spanish Fork Canyon.  I just love 'em.  I think they are beautiful, and futuristic, and thoughtful, and I can't even imagine how anyone could think otherwise.

Each turbine powers 12,000 homes, and there are nine of them.  So that's, more or less, 100,000 homes.  In a state that gets 90% of its electricity from coal, that's a start!

Ups... and downs...

Ups:
1) Barack did well in the debate, I thought. Many times I yelled 'That's what I'VE been saying!' Especially about the sacrifices we are about to face. I really appreciate someone who's going to tell me the truth, even if it's hard to hear. And then I got to yell (twice) at McC about the planetarium 'overhead projector'. OMG. Can we get someone smarter than me into the White House, please? I don't want someone like me in the White House. I want someone BETTER than me.

2) Yesterday, things went well in the workshop. I feel like I'm starting to remember a lot of stuff, and also am able to see how things need to be changed to make them easier to use for random joe-schmoe University prof. who is pressed for time. Today, I'll be downloading my new data, taken over the summer, and trying to get it reduced. Wish me luck. I think I'm going to need it!

3) Today, I ran into the electric man, who was digging a hole in the yard to try to find the meter. I was able to ask him lots of questions about the garbage 'bunker', how to get rid of stuff, etc. Turns out, if I put all the crap left by the prior tenant by the curb, and then call the city, they will come and get it---for FREE! (Unless it requires heavy equipment to move, in which case, they'll charge me $7 for up to a full dumptruck load.) That's so good. I can get rid of the terrible old recliner that was left out in the rain!

4) Finally got all the windows washed. I can see out of them now!

5) I found a better public radio station, that carries ATC from 5-7 pm. How am I supposed to stay informed without Melissa, Andrea, Michele and Robert to tell me what's happening!?

Downs:
1) A cockroach. In the bathtub. This means I'm going to have to go out after work this afternoon and invest in a bunch of roach-proof canisters, for rice and pasta, whilst I go about the cockroach elimination program. (Hence my discussion with the electric man about the garbage, above.)

2) No burrito lady today. I think I missed her, because I was talking to the electricity man. Fortunately, I did eat something before I left the house, just in case!

And... the living room

which has TWO sets of sliding glass doors, only one of which opens.  But I get really good light, so I'll have to get some plants!

The upstairs

Looking towards the front of the house.  This is the only closet in the place.  Come to think of it, I haven't even opened the door yet.  Anything could be in there...

Back of the house

Note the second-story balcony off the bedroom.  I have a view of mountains, all the way over there...

Have I mentioned that the nearest skiing is 2.5 hours from here?!  Good thing there's a golf course to go walking on!

Kitchen

And the kitchen... it's so very quaint!

The front of my temporary digs...

It's cute, actually!  A-frames are not really 'New Mexico construction', but s'ok.  I don't have to share it with anybody, and it's very close to work, NMT, and downtown.  So it's convenient. 

There is much to be done in the cleaning and cutification department.  That'll keep me out of trouble on the weekends!

Fish!

So, because it's the kind of person I am, I immediately acquired some new pets, so I'd have something to take care of!  I now have five goldfish, in a 5-gallon aquarium.  One black one with bug eyes, two calico ones (black and gold), and two 'pure' goldfish.  I haven't had fish in a long time, and it's kind of nice to have them swimming around over there while I'm standing in the kitchen eating.  (standing because I have yet to acquire a chair... see how my priorities shape up?  Actually, I would have gotten a chair on Sunday, except that the chair store was closed, and the fish store was open.) 

Breakfast burrito lady is found!

Aha! She's here! I saw her outside this morning. You have to get here before 8:30 if you want to set your head on fire to start your day.

Unfortunately, I had already eaten my oatmeal with craisins and brown sugar, so I wasn't hungry. But tomorrow, I'm gettin' a burrito! I've brought my mug in and everything, so I'll be ready to fill it with tea and about five sugars to kill the heat.

Oooooohhh, the anticipation!!!

Plague! which reminds me...

So, I awoke this morning to a report on NPR that a man on the Navajo reservation has just been diagnosed with bubonic plague. Now, everyone who knows me knows that I have a weird interest/obsession with this particular bacterium. (I know why---it's all perfectly logical, but it's complicated).

But this reminded me to tell you about Saturday, when it took me TWO HOURS to get through Shiprock, NM, a wide spot in the road, because of the big Navajo Sundowner fair that was happening. There were far more people there than the town was designed to accommodate. Ferris wheels, and food and craft stands lining the road, and people walking just everywhere, in the rain. The Navajo police were there, directing traffic at every intersection, and there were entire fields full of parked RVs and cars and tents. Here's what the NEW YORK TIMES says about it:

Shiprock Navajo Fair, Shiprock. The oldest and most traditional Navajo fair, it features a rodeo, dancing and singing, a parade, and arts-and-crafts exhibits. Call tel. 800/448-1240 for details. Early October.

So you know it's a big deal, because the NYT generally doesn't concern itself with little festivals.

Oddly enough, it seemed to be the custom to throw all the trash on the ground. It seemed mostly confined to the median of the road, but the place was completely packed, so maybe that's just where I could SEE the trash. There were no trash cans anywhere that I could see, so I guess the idea was to go around and clean it all up afterwards? The dogs were having a field day. I saw one with a whole, raw chicken in his mouth, just trotting down the road with his tail gently wagging. That dog was having a good day!

One of the more interesting things was the fact that not one NOT ONE of the food stands was a professional business. They were all just mom and pop operations, set up to sell fry bread or Navajo tacos or mutton stew. Sadly, there was no way I was going to find a place to park and get out and try some! I just had to stare at the tasty goodness from inside my glass and steel bubble.

At any rate, it happens in early October every year, so if you were looking for a way to explore the culture where you wouldn't feel uncomfortable, this is probably it!

Day One.

Found my way to the building, which you actually can, in fact, see from where I'm living. There's a shortcut, if I use the lawn for walking on, instead of just looking at. I have a nice view of the golf course, and overlook the (covered!) bike parking, so I can keep an eye out to see what's happening.

To summarize the office:
Workstation: Dell Optiplex 755
OS: Linux
Speed: slow... OMG, open Firefox already!
Window: yes
Door: no
Office-mate: no
Light switch: not really (It's a cubicle farm)
Post-its: yes
Pens: yes
Inherited food from whoever worked at this desk before: yes
Inherited CD's from whoever worked at this desk before: yes
Coffee-maker: Yes. Dozens. Literally. Around every corner in the building.
Library: Yes. Including People magazine (how odd!).
Noise: None. Seriously. I can hear at least three other people typing. I can hear the air conditioner going. It's creepy.
Breakfast burrito lady: not spotted yet.

So there you have it.

Oh. Wait. What am I actually DOING? No one seems to know, precisely! Today and tomorrow, I am to learn CASA (Common Astronomical Software Application). I have spent the morning (after meeting people, getting the tour, setting up user accounts, etc.) downloading the tutorials we'll be doing tomorrow, and working my way through Chapter 1 of the cookbook. Then I went home to get lunch (PBJ and a string cheese), because I forgot to bring my leftovers here to the microwave.

I'll catch you all up soon on the trip and the new digs. Promise.

Arrived! Mostly...

After two very, very long days, I have arrived in Socorro. It's Saturday night, so I'm actually ahead of schedule! But I didn't get in until after dark, so I'm spending the night in a hotel, rather than trying to move into my digs in the dark. I'm so lucky to be wealthy enough to be flexible.

Tomorrow, I'll write about the trip---Hovenweep, the Navajo party, my new reading project, thoughts about radio stations across the land, mennonites on vacation, etc.

But tonight, I'm having one of those ARG! moments. You know the ones. The 'what the crap am I doing here??!!' kind. It always means I'm over-tired when I get like this. (And it's probably windy---I get all jittery when it's windy. I just checked out the window. Yup, it's windy. Yikes. It's REALLY windy!)

So many things to do still, and an irrational feeling that I need to get them all done before Monday. Which, of course, is impossible. So. Focus. One step at a time. I have only three things that MUST happen tomorrow: First, move in---just literally put my stuff inside the door. Second, get food for a couple of days---cereal and granola bars are my fallback plan. Third, take back the rental car. I have to head for Albuqueque at 3:30 pm. Anything else I get done is gravy. I can live without furniture for a few days, if necessary! I have a pillow and a blankie. That's bare minimum needs met, right there.

Oh dear. Now it's hailing. I hope nothing bad happens to the rental car...

Super-duper!

I love it when a plan comes together.

So, I have found a way better apartment! It's a little A-frame house, just across campus from the AOC. Hooray!

But what's really great about it is that I can move in on SUNDAY, instead of MONDAY. That means that I can move in AND take the car back to Albuquerque on Sunday, and all I have to do on Monday is go to work.

Oh, that's so much better. I'm much, much more relaxed now. In fact, I think I'll go have a beer, and mentally prepare myself for the VP debate.

Tick-tock

Getting down to the wire now. If I can just stop looking up information about Socorro at 3 am, I'll actually get some sleep!

I leave in two days, on Friday. I think I've got mostly everything packed. I did the last laundry today, and in the morning, I'll do final packing of clothes, so that I can sort what I need for the trip itself from what I need when I get there.

I'm taking three days to get to Socorro, so that I can (finally!) stop off at Hovenweep National Monument, which I've been trying to get to for what seems like forever.

On Friday, I go get the rental car at the airport at 9 am, bring it home and load it. Then I go to Spanish Fork, to have a last lesson on my pony. This is, remarkably, exactly on the way. From there, I think I can get to Moab before it's too late. That's the biggest driving day, what with all the car business first thing in the morning.

Saturday, I'll head to Hovenweep, and then around through Cortez, CO, and down to Gallup, NM.

Sunday, I'll drop straight south through Zuni Nation to route 60. Turning east will take me past (well, through, actually) the VLA. I'm really looking forward to seeing it again. It makes me proud of my species.

I should be in Socorro by early afternoon. That will give me time to swing by my new digs, and change to emergency plan B, if necessary. Also, it will give me time to stop off at the store and pick up a few things. I'll stay in a hotel on Sunday night, because on Monday, I:

a) move into the apartment
b) show up for my first day at work
c) return the car to the Albuquerque airport
d) come back to Socorro via the shuttle

None of that necessarily in that order. It's going to be a really, really busy day!

Tuesday is an AOC-wide CASA meeting. This is critical to my project. (AOC=Array Operations Center, the name of the place I'll be working. CASA=er, something, probably with Analysis in it. But it's the new software package that runs the new instrumentation, and does the data analysis. Did I mention that it's new?)

Gustaaf (the person I'll be working with) is going out of town for two weeks starting on the 13th, so I am under some pressure to come up to speed pretty quickly on the status of the project, current issues and concerns, and so on.

I'm nervous, excited, jittery, homesick already, and having a hard time sleeping. Or maybe that's just the economy.

Sometimes, it's the little things...

Today, I have no emails in my inbox. Ahhh...

See, this is how I work. I get an email from someone, and I do one of four things:

a) delete it immediately, because I'm not going to buy those pills that make me longer and stronger. Nope. Don't need 'em.

b) answer it right away, if it's actually quick and/or easy.

c) leave it in my inbox, if I can't get to it just then, but will some time soon.

d) delegate it to someone else.

So, only about every other year or so, is my inbox actually empty. Today is one of those days. I also have only one more work-related item on my to-do list. I do believe I'm almost ready to go to Socorro!
____________________

Zeroth draft has an interesting thought about 'personal hells'. Hmmm... my own personal hell... Probably this: Delayed at the Salt Lake City airport, indefinitely, with nothing to read, and 'CNN: fear-mongering airport edition' playing loudly, without pause, 24/7. (Why SLC? Because the drinks are so tiny and expensive that there's no way I could find oblivion.)

Anything could happen!

So, economy and global disasters aside...

Today, I got pinged by my liaison at NASA, who had not heard yet about how the grant turned out! This meant that I got to spend about an hour composing an email brag about all of the marvelous things that happened because of this $1 million earmark to the 'foolishness' of a planetarium (thanks so much, McC, for proving that you are anti-science AND anti-education in one simple sentence!). What fun! Not only did we create all the modules, and a survey of core standards, and all the other things we said we'd do, but we also started Science in the Parks, served approximately 34,000 people over two years, reached the at-risk, disadvantaged community, ran a conference, published papers, etc., etc. Not bad for $1 million.

Let's run a couple of numbers. $1 million divided by 34,000 is $29 per person. And that doesn't count the people who are being affected by the shows being shown in other planetaria! So far, we have shows currently being shown in seven other planetaria across the country, each of which conservatively sees about 4,000 people per year. So that's another 28,000 people. And that's just this year, and doesn't include last year, but never mind. So we're looking at something like $15 per person. It's even less, if you think of how people have benefited from our publications and so on, but those are really hard to count, so let's just keep it at $15. It's a nice, round, three latte number.

Out in the world, we have $700 billion to bail out investment banks. I'm not saying that's not a good idea, or even that it won't help more people in the end. I'm just saying that it's going to cost a lot more than $15/person. Even if it helped every single person on the planet, it would cost $108/person! But we always knew I was better than W. ; ) I know. I said economy aside. But I'm only human.

Also today, I got to write a letter of recommendation for a favorite student. I LOVE doing that. It always makes me feel like I'm actually a useful person, working for a wonderful, magical future, in which all my favorite students rule the world. Sigh. It's so pretty then. In the magical future. Ahhh...

And, I got to spend some time figuring out what to do for next year's Miller Education Project class, verified my housing arrangements for Socorro, put a 'roof' on the chicken coop, found that Xmas decorations are already up at Lowe's, complained to Lowe's management about it, picked up copies of the latest eco-mags with enviro-physics articles, listened to Science Friday, learned about the recent decrease in the solar wind pressure and the low sunspot numbers, and also the new companies starting up that do complete turnkey solar installations, got some more money for the planetarium, delegated several decisions that need to be made, and walked the dog. It's only 2 pm. I wonder what will happen next!

The last couple of days...

...have been busy! I've been packing up to go to Socorro---it's harder than you think to pack for six months. On the one hand, it's a long time, and I have to make sure to remember a can opener. On the other hand, it's not forever, and so I don't get to just throw everything in boxes! It's a lot like leaving for college, actually, except that so much less of my life is taken care of---no dorm furniture, no dorm food, no roommates with whom to share stuff.

I've also been catching up on my enviro-blog, and a hundred little small things that I wanted to get done before I head south. And, I've been doing a bit of homesteading, as a way of controlling my economy jitters. I haven't been running, because I somehow (not running) stressed a tendon in my foot, so it needs the rest.

Today, I had to run in to the office and do a lot of paperwork, to close out the big grant, and open the new contract with NRAO. So that took a while.

But then I went down to the Union, to see what's new. I wandered into the bookstore, which I hadn't been in for a while. I was in the textbooks section, where I found several books that I can use to fill out my enviro-knowledge. A fortuitous discovery. Way to go Zoo, Geo, Geog, and Soc!

They also had a display of banned books, which I always appreciate. So does the bookstore. I can never walk past a display of banned books without buying at least one, in protest of censorship, and support of the First Amendment. Maybe that's silly, because it's clearly a marketing ploy, and who's going to notice, really. But on the other hand, The Grapes of Wrath? Banned? Really? Ugh. The world is not a pretty place, and literature helps us understand it better. Pretending that it IS pretty does not make the ugly go away. But finding out how other people think about it can make it easier to think about it yourself. I can't even imagine my life without The Grapes of Wrath, or Huckleberry Finn, or A Wrinkle in Time. I mean seriously. A Wrinkle in Time?! That was the book that taught me that the Universe could be so much bigger than I ever imagined. It was also the first book I ever read where the girl genuinely got to be both troubled and a hero. Don't even get me started on Of Mice and Men or The Catcher in the Rye. The Handmaid's Tale or Harry Potter. The Bluest Eye or I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. Oh, how much less my life would be without these magnificent ideas, magnificently expressed.

Some people must be very frightened. All the time. Of everything. How dreadful.

Ho-hum, one of THOSE computer days.

Once in a while, you get one of those computer days that make you wonder why you have one.

The cable is intermittent. So I went to Comcast's website, where they had a chat feature. I figured I'd try it instead of calling. I got a swift response. But then the guy told me to go turn off the cable modem, and do a bunch of other things, and then turn it back on, and let him know what happened. He never did understand that then I wouldn't be able to tell him what happened. See. Because he's not the only chatter. See.

And then I neglected to save frequently. Until finally the helpful software said, 'Unable to save.', when I finally tried to do so. Ummm... help could not help. Ummm.... no help on the interweb. No 'save as' available. D'oh. Work lost.

But, I started packing for Socorro! So that's good. I need to buy another can opener. Or maybe I should just take the one we have, and leave John opener-less. Devious. That's what I am.

Nesting...

It's kind of bad for me to have too much time to listen to NPR. Especially when the world is as unnerving as it has become this week! I get all jittery when they start saying things like 'worst financial crisis since the Great Depression', and 'additional 3 TRILLION dollars of public debt'. That always makes me run for my calculator, and find out how much I, personally, owe. $40,000, in case you were wondering.

It inspires a nesting impulse. Yesterday, I made and canned a year's worth of jam, from our own grapes. Today, I made pickles, and granola. I feel a strong desire to plant food (we are reading: 'Small-scale grain raising'). Turns out we probably could raise enough wheat and corn to fill our needs right here on our 1/2 acre. And now that the 'victory chickens' are laying, we might live through it all.

It's not that I really think it's all about to go in the crapper. It's just that I don't know that it's not. If you see what I mean. And I don't actually see anyone with a plan, anywhere. Except maybe Google, which seems to be the only place in America that has caught on to the whole idea that eventually, the oil will be gone, and all fossil-fuel based solutions will buy us a year or two at most.

It doesn't help that the University has apparently just been asked to cut 2% of it's budget. That doesn't sound like much, until you realize that enrollment is actually UP. This always happens when the economy goes bad, because everyone tries to get re-educated, so they can find a new job. So we now have more students to teach with less money. Again. I suppose I should just be thankful that my office has a light switch.

OMG!

AN EGG!!!!

I'm practically as proud as if I laid it myself.

Here's a picture! It's beautiful!

I don't know which of our ladies is responsible. But here's a picture of the proud mamas also. BTW, thanks, Mom, for the names: Larry, Daryl and Daryl. Much improved over The Black One, The Stupid One, and The Other One. Ha!