Sometimes, my kid makes me feel so incredibly stupid. He doesn’t mean it; it’s just that he’s very, very smart. He shows me how to do something once and expects me to understand it completely and I’m not wired that way. Writing software is a prime example. He wants me to learn some essentials of C++, a common programming language. I haven’t written any computer programs since high school, when I learned a little Basic and APL. That’s it. Until now, I’ve always depended on other people to write my programs; I understand hardware pretty well but software has been something that I avoided messing with.
In August, I bought an Arduino, an open-source microprocessor that is easily modified. I want to make it light up an array of LEDs. I also bought an LOL shield; shields are little circuit boards that are designed to plug into Arduinos, and LOL stands for Lots Of LEDs, so my LOL shield is a circuit board filled with as many LEDs as could be packed onto it and still attach to an Arduino. Jack immediately figured out how to program his (he bought one, too) and mine sat in my project box. Until two nights ago.
Jack has been after me to learn how to program an Arduino, so I finally took out my kit – my Arduino (actually, an even tinier knock-off called a Picoduino with an adapter to attach shields), LOL shield, and connection cable. He walked me through using the library of programming examples and how to load them from my laptop into the Picoduino via the special USB cable. Last night, I was at the laudromat, about to look at a new example and realized that I needed my internet connection to look at the files. It wasn’t an internet-equipped laundry – after all, this is South Hadley, not New York City. Sigh. I bet Jack could have figured out how to look at the files despite the lack of a connection. Instead, I felt stupid, like a kid finally sitting down to do her homework and discovering that she forgot the book at school.
My little LOL shield was busy blinking away from the pattern that I had sent it days earlier. It was pretty cool, but I wanted to learn how to make it display something else. I knitted. I’m not very good at that, either, but at least it didn’t require an internet connection! I've got to get a newer Android phone so I can attach my laptop to it and connect to the world – the original Android doesn’t support a mobile hotspot. On the other hand, Verizon would want more money for the service, so maybe, in the same situation, I’ll just wait until I get home or I’ll go to an internet cafe.
Snowblowers
After my snowblower couldn’t finish the driveway, I decided to be independent (a good thing when you’re broke) and found the manuals for my snowblower online, looked up the part number, and went off to my local dealer, All-Power. Although there is usually a line at the All-Power parts desk, it's a good place to go because they are very knowledgeable and if they don’t have a part in stock, they will find it for you at another local shop if they can. I’ve been trained to always bring the model and serial numbers with me as even bringing the part with me may not be enough. The guy looked up my part number and discovered that the cable now only came as part of a kit, with a gear and another part that looked like a miniature door stop. Although I only needed the cable, I had to buy the whole kit for $30.
The kit included two pages of instructions on how to replace all three parts. I decided to live dangerously and only replace the cable. Bent over the snowblower in the open door of the unheated garage, I struggled to remove a nut while I was swathed in my winter woolies - fleece vest, parka, hat, and gloves – The gloves were too much; they made the job impossible. How do astronauts work in their heavy space suits and attached gloves? It must be the practice before every mission. I only wore lightweight leather driving gloves and I still kept dropping the wrench! I stripped them off and worked barehanded. I removed a cover plate and the old cable, then routed the new cable properly, attaching it by little end/knobs. Then, I replaced the metal cover plate over that gear (the one that I could have replaced from the kit). The new cable had a little piece of bent wire that snugly held the cable while lightly attaching it to a control rod, to keep the cable off of the muffler. The old cable had a plastic doohickey that was supposed to do the same thing but it was slipped under the gear cover. I adjusted the cable tension and went inside to warm up my hands. The hardest part was working barehanded in the cold.
An hour later, hands completely warm, I put on my heavy gloves and went out to finish clearing the driveway. Hurray! My snowblower works properly (finally). Now, I just need to continue to feed it good gasoline and it should be good for the rest of the season. What would I do without it?
I’m proud of myself for fixing the snowblower. I messed up the carburetor on my lawn mower two years ago trying to fix it. I don’t want to mess with small engines or carburetors again but the mechanical parts are pretty easy to figure out. I understand the workings of the internal combustion engine but I don’t have the tools or inclination to fix small engines properly. Before Jack was born, to teach me, John had me remove and dismantle the seized engine from a six-cylinder gas Mercedes-Benz automobile. I did it, too, and drove the repaired car for over a year. On the other hand, Jack tried to teach me about automatic transmissions, even showing me how the parts all fit together, but I still think they operate by magical principles, so there is a limit to my mechanical abilities.
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