I’ve had a strong suggestion that there should be an open thread here, so this is it.
I usually don’t set comments to close at any particular time, so I’ll loosely monitor this thread in semi-perpetuity and we’ll see if we ever need another one.
Old welder to young welder: “OK, now we’re going to check your welds to see if they hold.”
Young welder: “They’re tight, they’ll hold up to anything.”
Old welder: “We’ll see about that.”
When I was a kid, I wanted to be a special effects wrangler. In fact, the short story Armaments Race by Arthur Clarke [wik] really appealed to me – I thought that making swords and guns and armor and tanks for movies would be a fine way to spend my life.
I stumbled across this on the internets, forwarded it around to a few of my knife-making buddies, and everyone had a good laugh and a snark and then got quiet. The only way to deal with it is to assume it’s a set-up.
This scared the shit out of me. And, worse, I subsequently figured out a better way to do what I was trying to do, anyway.
What is it about wealth that makes people who were successful at one thing decide that they’re actually good at everything?
I’ve had some interesting rush hour road blocks out here. One time there was a bobcat sitting on the hood of my car (he left before I could get my camera) and another time there was an elk standing there, looking huge.
Mold-making can be a pain in the neck. And it’s a truism in the model-making community that the better you are at mold-making the better your objects will look. So, it’s not uncommon for good casting artists to spend an inordinate amount of time on their molds.
There must be a huge mycelium run under the grass.
I’ve been busy running around building forms for casting the liner for the forge body, and dealing with a bunch of other stuff, including stressing out about my first colonoscopy, which is tuesday morning.