The battery was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The dash indicator had pegged out hours ago, the car had been jumped twice, the ohm meter read a dismal 7.2, and the owner. myself drove to the only auto shop open on Sunday to pick up a replacement alternator; and the tests run by shops of that name were good upon 'Change, for anything they chose to put the probes to. The old battery was as dead as a door-nail. 
But it still took a charge....

Disclaimer; I was not paid to write this review. (Well there might have been cookies involved.) I do use this product.

As many of my reader may have figured out by now I live a more out of doors life. I am no XXTream adventurer but my day to day life, combined with my forgetfulness, could easily lead to me standing gloomily over a dead battery in the middle of a trackless wilderness. (Well okay, if my car got there there there is clearly at least one track but you get the idea.) It also leads to my poor battery being frozen and baked on a daily basis. Living and working in the mountains is tough work on any rig. Yet I have not bought a new battery in years. My secret?
I have a little black/red/silver box hooked up to my battery.  (This is the 2.6 and it works fine but I got to experience the older models too.) 
Now back to that dead battery. I thought nothing of it at the moment. I had been solemnly informed that this autoparts store of that name did not have my alternator but thankfully the one just 20 miles off did. They offered to charge my battery so I could make it the short drive. (I have been told I have to explain this. In the larger Western states distance is measured in hours and anything under two hours is 'close'.) However when they brought out my battery the employee had a very odd look on his face. 
"This battery is dead," he said bluntly. "Our computer said it wouldn't take a charge."
"But it did!" I replied with a bright smile. 
"It did..." he said eyeing the batter with the look of a scientist facing 'dark magic'. "But it is really dead and it will probably never take a charge again. The battery machine says so. You'd best get a new one with the new alternator."
"Sure!" I replied brightly as I snatched the battery back from his hands. "I'll just put this back myself!" 
I slid the clamps (This was the ReVive 1.7 I think. It had clamps.) back over the terminals and went on my way whistling. I still have that same battery. 


What is this? It is proprietary that's what it is!  The battery in your car has a lifespan. It can only be recharged so many times. The ReVive unit charges safely and gently, increasing the number of times you can use most lead-acid batteries. No I don't understand exactly how it works but it does. If you are curious contact the company. 

(I think this is my first tech review if you couldn't tell.) 

Pretty Fall Picture 

Humans are Weird – Imaginary Lines


“I heard you had a long and heated talk with the human cartographer,” Thirty-two Trills observed as his second in command fluttered down onto the branch he was hanging from.
“You could call it that,” Three Clicks said with an expressive sigh as he settled down beside his commander.
“Did you write it up?” Thirty-two Trills asked. “It sounded land graph related.”
“I took many notes,” Three Clicks said, running his wing hooks over his sensory horns in an absent grooming gesture. “I do plan to make a full report.”
“Well do, and don’t drag me into it,” Thirty-two Trills ordered him. “I have quiet enough human madness to deal with in my own duties.”
However from the way Three Clicks’s fur bushed out and relaxed he did want to talk about the issue. Thirty-two Trills was estimating the value of his tablet mentally, debating if he couldn’t risk dropping it and making a mad dash for freedom before his second in command gathered his wits.
“He argued that planetary equators are imaginary,” Three Clicks finally burst out.
Thirty-two Trills fluffed out his fur in shock and turned his eyes on Three Clicks.
“But I know they use that concept daily!” Thirty-two Trills exclaimed.
Then immediately regretted it. Not his job. Not his job.
“They do!” Three Clicks answered, gesturing dramatically with his wings. “They have the equator on their own world and a range of degreed lines as well. They simply insist that the equator is, and I quote, ‘an imaginary line’. A thing any child of any sentient species can see! A thing understood genetically by countless non-sentient species.”
“So,” Thirty-two Trills said slowly. “A thing that they use for scientific measurement and suborbital navigation on a daily basis, a thing that is clearly recognized on every spherical world, they consider to be imaginary.”
“Yes!” Three Clicks exclaimed. He spread his wings in frustration. “And you should have heard the argument he used. Things about having crossed the equator on a dozen worlds and never having seen one-“
However the added time and allowed the commander to neatly tuck his tablet into his chest pack and he sprang off the branch clicking a jaunty tune.
“I’ll see it all in your report!” He called out cheerfully.
It really wasn’t his problem. 

"What?" I asked my brain yesterday morning, "if there were a Pandora app for books?"
"Google it and quit bothering me!" My brain snapped back as it desperately tried to feed excess plot bunnies to the character hawks. 
So I did.

TADA! 


Literature Map is a delight little website. Very simple.  It is one of those swirling, faux 3D charts of names showing the connectivity, by popularity, of authors. 
For instance. If you type in Elizabeth Gaskell you find her surrounded by Jane Austen, Maria Edgeworth, and Fanny Burney. (I do not yet know a thing about Fanny Burney but that is the delight of this site.)
Of course the site is short on details (they are non-existent.) But just pull up Goodreads in the next tab and presto! 
Now let the fights being where fans of one author screech out, "S/he is NOTHING like her/him!" 

Things My Boss Says To ME

​"I knew you would want this." (a four inch long dead insect)
"I know you have trouble sitting still but STAY IN THE TRUCK." (we weren't moving at the moment) 
"Sorry, my words aren't working today." (to be fair mine weren't either)
"Do you HAVE TO GO POOP?" (yes, yes I did) 
​

Wow, those squirrels are fat. 
The Golden Mantled Ground Squirrels who scamper around me during work are displaying some predictable, and adorable, behavior. They sit there on the old fence posts, chewing away at the pine nuts they have pulled down from the surrounding trees. They watch me curiously as their fall-fat little bodies jiggle around under their fur. Then I get home and wonder why I am suddenly craving nuts...

I should probably check up on what my editor is doing with my manuscript...

The first frost of the season moved in and Old Man Winter painted the windows with millions of intricate works of art. 
Which I spent fifteen minutes cheerfully scraping off of my work truck.   

You can't notice everything. Babies do. They notice the sounds of every language. Until they don't. A thinking adult human has to filter out most of the world to say sane. 
However sometimes you just have to take the time to notice one little thing. A patch of moss on the side of a rock. A pale white violet tucked into a seep. Enjoy the little things when you can. 

Angry Grasshopper just want you to leave her alone!