Make Something

This one is actually pretty easy. My dad has been throwing around the idea of building Theo a sandbox for a few weeks now. He decided that the baby shower would be the perfect day for it because: A) Theo would have something to feel special about even though most of the presents, and the attention, weren’t for him; B) My dad cares only a small amount about the typical activities involved in a shower; C) He would be at our house. He was thoughtful enough to run all this by me and Melanie, and we agreed that it would be fine.

The timing worked out so that almost all of the actual construction happened after most guests had left. Also, my dad had already completed the bulk of the prep work; he came with boards measured, cut, routed, and sanded. So, to be fair, I wasn’t involved in a good portion of the making. To be even more fair, I didn’t actually help that much with the assembly either. My brother-in-law had previously agreed to help, so he and my dad laid it out and screwed it together.

I will take credit for the placement, the octagon shape, and the size, which should be just about perfect on all accounts for Theo and friends. I will also take credit for shoveling about five hundred pounds of sand.

My redemption, however, comes in the making of the “bench” for the sandbox. After the assembly was finished and the sand was added, we decided to use an extra board to create a handy bench seat on one side. While I didn’t do the cutting in this case either, I did complete most of the routing and sanding and assembly.

Aside from needing a little more sand, I think the project looks pretty damn good.

Learn Something

A yard of sand is literally a ton of sand. Yes, this is the correct usage of literally; a yard of sand weighs two thousand pounds . It is also happens to be (figuratively) a lot of sand. Really, I should say that a half-yard of sand is a lot of sand because that’s how much my dad brought in his small pickup. Really, I should say that it’s a lot of sand when you’re shoveling it but not that much when you spread it out in a sandbox with an area of almost sixty square feet. We still need another half-yard or so to fill the sandbox out (in?).

If you buy “play sand” by the bag at a big box home improvement store, it will cost you a little over $3.50 per 50 pound bag ($70 for a half-ton). If you buy masonry sand from a landscaping or builder supplier, a half-ton will cost you about $11. It’s the kind of sand you find in creek beds, and it’s great for sandboxes. When moist, it can be used to build castles, mountains, and caves. And when you’re finished playing, it just brushes off without leaving your hands and clothes soiled. We even found a few rocks in our batch, and they were smooth and shiny, worn down from their time at the bottom of what I imagine was a pleasant stream in some tranquil woodscape.

Karate Chop Something

Yes, I karate-chopped the sand.

Try Something New

I had never built a sandbox before. I’m not certain, but I also don’t think I had used a router before (although I’m a little suspicious of that). I had never before added such a prominent feature to our backyard. Our only real customization at this point is that we have added some potted plants and a few bird feeders, allowed the deck to deteriorate, and not filled in all of Rory’s holes. In addition to the toys scattered haphazardly around the yard, the sandbox really solidifies the space as Theo’s.

Be Nice to Someone

While it is clear that “someones” were nice to me in this situation–they were giving their time and energy to build this sandbox–I also feel like I was being a little generous in allowing the construction to take place. That might sound odd, I guess. “I’ll allow you to do something nice for me.” But, accepting help is not just a selfish act. It is nice to let someone do something nice for you, especially in this case.

My dad is a builder. Even without his background as a carpenter, he would still be drawn to creating something with his hands. And he enjoys the process and result of putting his skills to use for someone else. Multiply that by the grandchild factor. And then multiply that by the building with your son and son-in-law factor. It’s like calculating the volume of a cylinder (sandbox): radius squared, times pi, times height. It’s a volume of generosity.

Also, it was pretty nice for Theo. He can hardly stand how much he loves playing outside, digging and moving dirt.

I guess I tricked you (and myself) there. I was planning on a shower-themed review, and instead, I went even more specific with a sandbox theme. Writing is funny sometimes. I hope you had and have a great week.

Mostly, I’ve been using the Learn Dvorak keyboard training, which you can check out here. I like that you can choose to map your Qwerty keyboard to Dvorak without having to change anything else. It also has “lessons” where you can run through the Dvorak home keys and then add others by typing actual words. I have played around with it throughout the day, I would say averaging about 30 minutes a day. I first thought I would stick with a specific lesson until I “mastered” it, but I realized that would put me in a tough spot when it came time for my first typing test. So, I’ve gone through each of them a few times. The progress is slow so far, but here are a couple points I’ve picked up.

The Dvorak keyboard layout does make a lot more sense.

This is pretty obvious when you see how many words you can make from the basic home keys, the ones that don’t require you to ever move your fingers. Here’s a random selection: hose, tuna, aunt, snoot, teen, shots. Compared to the Qwerty, (adds, Alaska, dads, lass, flask), the obvious difference is the vowels. With Dvorak, you get them all except “i”, which is still on the home row. In Qwerty, you get “a”. Yup, just one vowel. According to the references I’ve looked at, the possible English words on the Qwerty home row, including moving the index finger for “g” and “h” tops out at under 200. And it includes many that only a Scrabble lover could appreciate. (But you do get the semi-colon!) As for how well these advantages play out, I think I’ll get a better sense of it as I go along.

Fun fact: one of the serendipitous combinations I got when moving to the full Dvorak keyboard was “joshing egoist”, which you can take however you wish.

Switching keyboard layouts is simple, but it isn’t easy.

Typing, for me at this point, falls into the category of “things you do every day, without thinking.” I suppose I knew that before, but trying a new layout really throws that in your face. It felt similar to learning a new language to me, or maybe it reminded me what it was like to learn how to type at the very beginning. Although, even that doesn’t quite compare because when I learned for the first time, I didn’t have a reference point. It made me think about what it must be like for someone who has had a significant injury and is forced to relearn how to walk or write. I still don’t think I could imagine how excruciating that must be, but I think the keyboard layout switch gives me a little insight. I’m sure one of the major differences is that there are no major consequences with this experiment, so that relieves much of the stress and frustration. It is certainly a good exercise in patience, though.

The early part of the learning curve can be fun and maybe addictive.

It is pretty easy to see small victories when practicing. It feels good to correctly remember where a letter is without having to “cheat” or take forever thinking about it. And the practice itself doesn’t require a lot of thinking, just concentration. It can be a bit of a break, like playing a game. However, just like with playing games, it is easy to turn to it to avoid “real” work. I found myself thinking, more than once, “Eh, I don’t want to think about X right now. I could just do some typing instead.” And it can actually be more dangerous than a typical game because I feel like I am being productive in learning this new skill. I have to be conscious of what is truly important and what is more of a side project. Sometimes that introspection can be difficult. Using typing practice as a form of procrastination is something I’ll have to watch for.

I’m not ready to make the switch to Dvorak.

If I went completely cold turkey, I would probably be much further along in my Dvorak skills, but I can’t really imagine how much slower all of my work would have gone. It would be hours and hours I think. For now, I will stick with the slower transition. I am considering switching over to Dvorak for the occasional email, etc. when I have time instead of just doing the separate practice. In part, because I’ve found that it is a different situation when you are trying to compose in your mind and remember where letters are at the same time.

So, that’s where I stand right now. Let me know if you have any questions or if you’re playing along at home. Thanks for reading.

from Wikipedia

I recently (like just a few days ago recently) wrote about how Qwerty vs Dvorak isn’t really a productive discussion when it comes to writing. Because typing is only one, somewhat insignificant aspect of the process, if you even type at all. But then I wrote yesterday about the Five Karate Moves for Success, and I started thinking about the Try Something New move. And here’s where we get into the weeds, or leaves of grass in this case because I think maybe a little Dvorak experiment could payoff for both typing and writing. “Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.” I’m pretty sure Whitman Whitman was referring to keyboard layouts.

If you read more than a few posts of mine, after I actually have more than a few posts available, you’ll likely recognize that I don’t always argue the same side of an issue. In part, that’s because I’m often exploring my own ideas through writing, and I don’t have them set in stone. Or, I might come across some new information that causes me to reconsider an earlier position. If I were a politician, I would be accused of not knowing what I think or changing my mind when it’s convenient. Since I’m just a person who likes to ask questions, I’m comfortable in my flip-floppiness. I also happen to think that an adherence to resolve, an inability (or unwillingness) to consider new data, is a major source of our currently bitter political discourse. But that’s really a topic for another day.

For now, I want to say the following. 1) I like experiments. 2) I like the possibility of self-improvement. 3) After reading up on Dvorak a little more, I realized it’s not just about speed but also about ergonomics and stamina; a more efficient keyboard can lead to fewer finger problems and allow you to type fast for longer periods. 4) I’m second-guessing my hypothesis that faster typing doesn’t lead to better writing; I feel like it could, especially if it allows you to enter more of a flow state, especially if you’re working for ugly first drafts.

So, I’m going to see where this leads me. I’ll report back, maybe once a week, maybe biweekly. Here’s a screenshot of a very informal typing test I did on typingtest.com, which will serve as my benchmark. If you want to play along, I’m starting with the exercises at http://learn.dvorak.nl/ It has a little web app that allows you to learn the Dvorak setup without changing your keyboard settings. Some people recommend just switching cold turkey, but since my day job (and my night job and my in between jobs) relies heavily on my ability to write/type coherently, I’m going to start a little slower. I don’t know what type of daily schedule I’ll hold myself to, but I’ll relay that in my first report. Let me know if you have any questions, or if you think this is totally dumb, or if you really just don’t care about my typing (I think that’s probably valid).

Wish me luck.