“Oh don’t worry Honey, those are just Mint Sauce worms.”

A veritable tornado of souls. I kept waiting to read that it was a delicacy somewhere.

I guess eventually they'll get around to other body parts?

http://gizmodo.com/this-is-the-fi…

I think the new improvement hoped for here was in figuring out how to make the crushed concrete suitable as aggregate in new, structural concrete. Right now it’s non-structural only.

The linked article only talked about old concrete being recycled for aggregate in new concrete. Which, is already being done in non-structural applications. The advancement, as I took it, was in figuring out how to include it for structural use.

Werner Herzog’s Cave of Forgotten Dreams is a nice film about these caves. If I remember right, at least one part of the cave was closed to the public because humid breath was starting to grow mold on the walls. A painstaking reproduction was built for tourists.

Something was wrong with that owl.

Because who’s interested in artificial eels?

Mm, free mints!

If it’s too personal, please disregard, no big deal, but what did your step-father do with that machinery?

And then like music on an empty parking lot, a slow christmas carol began.

Another result of the conflict between the eyes and ears.

I’m going to go ahead and trust that you are encouraging her to do more of the Raw Uncooked Nature stuff by gently provoking a contrary response.

There’s the old saying, ‘don’t believe anything you hear, and only half of what you see’.

On my last construction job I wound up getting to operate a few pieces of equipment, and there is definitely a gravity to the otherwise fun work. People learn quickly who they trust to be around. Some operators are too cocky, others too unsure, and decent training can make the difference. It was quite satisfying to…

Operating heavy equipment was the most fun I’ve ever had doing a job. Once the controls become second nature, especially on an excavator, the feeling of the tool as body extension I find very seductive. Probably not as fun as flying a plane, but you looked forward to going to work, and the hours would just melt away.

This is like some Prime Directive level effort here. If only more of the world’s problems were such non-lethal tedium.

My grandfather had a corked jar of it, he quickly said it was poisonous, and at ten that warning was sufficient but added to the coolness of the weighty little jar. His basement was full of all kinds of rocks, so the mercury seemed at home. (There was also, odly, a soft clay bust of him down there too, the basement…