| A Nu way of doing things |
[Mar. 23rd, 2008|06:46 pm] |
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Yes, I almost never post at the moment. But right now I’ve just had enough of writing my thesis, and I want to write something else, like a journal entry. So here we are. I expect that I’ll start with a few more general ideas, and then move on to justify the rather bad pun in my title. So, life first, code second (not that that’s the way I actually live, but it’s a good way to organize a journal entry.)
So, what’s going on with my life at the moment (other than writing my thesis of course)? Not too much, I’m afraid. I am making progress on my thesis though, so that’s definitely good news. Three of the five chapters either done or mostly one, and the fourth started, and I’m on target to defend at the end of July. And, my committee has been convinced to continue my funding through the end of August (for those who know something about how things have been going, this counts as a major victory).
Even with my thesis work though, I’m still learning new things. For example, a couple of weeks ago I discovered an excellent tip for those of you who cook. When one is trying to cook something (even if it’s just a simple “dump onions, vegetables, and maybe meat into a frying pan, cook it, and serve with rice, noodles, potatoes, whatever”), it is important to put the frying pan on the stove before turning the stove on, and vitally important to put the frying pan on the stove before adding olive oil and starting to cook your onions. Otherwise, the process becomes a bit messy. Or so it seems to me. Theoretically at least. Because, after all, I haven’t actually done anything like that of course.
Moving on now…
( Code Stuff ) |
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| I'm (still) here |
[Jun. 14th, 2007|10:30 pm] |
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Well, I’m alive. And so is my research plan. In fact, my first draft (with figures) is complete. I’m linking to it below so that anyone who’s wondered what I’m doing can take a look at it.
Thesis lite
There are still a few things left to do before it’s finished (in particular, I need to figure out what signal-to-noise I’d need to get an equivalent width limit of 0.3 angstroms for each of the Mg II systems, and how long it would take to reach that SNR with various telescopes). Once I have the times together, I need to put them in a table, and put it in the research plan).
Now, as I said, it’s mostly up there for interest, but if any of you feel like commenting or asking questions, that would also be good. The plan is aimed at the level of the non-specialist astronomer, but I’m hoping that it’s not too specialized for the chemist on my committee. In particular, if you see any astronomical jargon that I use without explanation, then I should probably deal with it. And, of course, if my “motivations” section doesn’t motivate, that’s a problem.
It feels really good to be finished this thing finally. Well, mostly finished anyway. And I don’t even have to send it in until the 20th, so I have a bit of time to revise it (if necessary). And, hopefully, I get a good thesis out of it. |
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| High-flying post |
[Nov. 21st, 2006|12:41 am] |
As I write this, Ungava Bay has just gone by below (not that I can see it, since it's dark out), and I'm heading out over the Atlantic. Nice of Scandinavian Air to include a wireless network on their planes (you can't use your cell phone, but wifi is just fine -- go figure). Pity that the provider is discontinuing it in January, but at least that means that my access tonight is free. Sure, I don't have a laptop plug-in (so I'll have to shut down eventually), but still, it's cool. Which is why I'm posting this. I just like the idea of sitting here in a large (but mostly empty) plane, surfing the internet. I never would have thought it would be possible.
Incidentally, I'm told that the flight from Seattle to Copenhagen has some nice views. I'm sure it does, but they certainly aren't obvious when you're flying overnight. And, when I land, I get to head on to Madrid, where I have to go through customs and successfully recognize my suitcase *before* I get to actually call the hotel I'm staying at tonight (tomorrow night? Stupid time zones). Oh well, at least I've been able to check my e-mail on the way.... |
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| What am I doing here? (Part 1) |
[Oct. 4th, 2006|06:04 pm] |
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Ok, so this isn’t really the post about the curiously high metals content (that’s going to be a future part). Instead, this is the post about what I do, what spectra are, how we reduce them, and what we find out from them. If the post is still short enough, I’ll add in a bit about diffuse bands, and our results there so far (they’re published, so I’m quite safe in doing that).
( Read on... )
So now that we’ve found our DLA (and now that you all know what the “damped” part of damped Lyman-α system means), you can do something with it. But, since this has turned out to be another long post, I’ll discuss that in the next part, hopefully in a couple of days. |
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| Not the update I had planned |
[Oct. 3rd, 2006|04:06 pm] |
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Soon there will be an actual update, involving the work I’m doing, what it means, how it’s done, and a few exciting new developments that are currently underway. Meanwhile, though, I’ve been asked to share a brief moment from a parenting course I was taking last night.
It’s the third week of the course, and the overall theme is about how to talk with children, and (of course) there’s homework, (mostly) involving actually trying to apply what you’ve been working on. So, at the start of the class, we were asked to share about if (and how) we’d applied the ideas from the previous class. My response?
“Well, I didn’t apply any of these techniques in talking with my child, but I did use them in talking with an employee of the Ministry of Children and Families. That’s the same thing, right?” The instructor, who has some experience with the ministry, agreed (of course).
Ok, that’s it for now. I’m off again to look at the case of the curiously high metals content. |
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| Cold Dark Matter |
[Aug. 27th, 2006|11:53 am] |
Some of you will already have seen this. Despite all the controversy surrounding Pluto (well, it’s more controversy than you usually get about astronomy), I think that the discovery in that little letter is probably of far greater importance. Of course, explaining why will require a little bit of background.
( A not-so-quick summary of cosmology and the cosmic microwave background )
So, after all this, that’s why this result is so significant. It’ll solve a “controversy” that’s been going on almost as long as “what are the diffuse interstellar bands” (which, I point out modestly, I’m currently working on), and much more relevant to cosmology as a whole.
And what about the “cold” in the title? That’s a distinction for another day. |
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| Non-work-related Entry |
[May. 27th, 2006|12:00 pm] |
So, it was gently brought to my attention recently that I should post entries about something other than work. About interesting things going on in my life, about feelings, about ideas. Well, I thought about it and then I realized that there really weren’t many interesting things going on that don’t involve work (occupational hazard of grad school I think), but that I do have ideas to talk about, that have nothing to do with my job, directly at least.
So, universe design.
I recently had a couple of ideas on how things might work in a particular SF universe that I’m designing (rough outline available in the fudge factor article I wrote about it). Now, some details have changed (mostly I got rid of gravity manipulation, probably, because I don’t think I need it, although it might re-appear, and I’ve firmed up the way the jump drive works). In any case, I had some ideas about the way orbital space would be divided up between various planetary nations, and the way freight and passengers would get from the surface to the starships. And I posted these ideas to sfconsim-l (which is actually on yahoogroups now), and the discussion quickly evolved in many unexpected directions. During the discussion, I quickly realized how important a group like that is for anyone trying to create any type of hard-SF setting, mostly because there are a lot of scarily smart people there, and they’re willing to put your math, physics, biology, sociology, etc. through the wringer, and question your unstated assumptions, and help you tighten things up to no end (even if only by letting you know, unambiguously, where you need to break the laws of physics to make things more fun).
I should mention, also, for anyone who’s interested, that the other absolutely-not-to-be-missed resource for anyone who’s doing anything that’s even remotely hard SF is Nyrath’s incredibly detailed and useful atomic rockets web page. This page recently highlighted one of the strange ironies of my own setting — because of the way I handle FTL travel, the biggest, most powerful engines (~35 gigawatts of thrust power, which is nothing compared to most SF rockets) belong to the orbital tugs, and most actual starships have only chemical maneuvering thrusters, or very low-acceleration, low-power, low-Δ-v engines. And my spaceships resemble trains far more than they do anything else — everything is modular. Not to mention that the weapons carried by warships are essentially useless near planets.
The real advantage of Atomic Rockets is that it explains what you’re doing step-by-step, and it puts the equations together in ways that are much easier for me to look up than my textbooks (which were designed to teach physics rather than science-fiction rocketry), and it also makes it easy to fiddle around with my parameters until I have something that looks right (even if it does mean travelling at several light-years per day between stars, then taking another two days or so to go from (roughly) the distance of the Moon back to the Earth).
And, well, sfconsim-l will tell you when you’re breaking the laws of physics, and will mention some of the consequences you might not have noticed about breaking certain laws (so as to avoid the Star Trek problem of having to explain each time why the transporter (or the replicators, or that gadget they put together in ten minutes last episode) can’t solve the problem). And finally, if you run your assumptions past them, and tell them the results you want to get, they’ll usually tell you where you have to break the rules, and what the good places would be to do that with a minimum impact on the way your universe works.
So, now that I’ve rambled on about ideas (a little bit) and good places to hang out if you’re into science fiction (and note that none of it was work-related, except to the extent that I might be thinking about things while I should be working), I’ll sign off again for a little while. |
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| Super fast papers. |
[May. 24th, 2006|04:38 pm] |
As usual, the pretty version is here.
I guess this about says it all. I’ve got to say though, that I’m impressed by how quickly ApJ Letters works (especially compared to the regular peer-review process). Now granted that only having four pages to look through probably made a difference, but it’s still only about a month from submission to acceptance, which is doing pretty well. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 12th, 2006|09:34 pm] |
As usual, the prettier version is here.
Why is it that I only write journal entries when I’m visiting telescopes?
Actually, mostly it’s because that’s when I’m pretty much guaranteed to have some time with nothing to do except try to stay awake (accompanied by internet access, of course, since astronomers just love running cables up mountains). Not that I’m on a mountain this time….
Actually, right now, I’m in Socorro, New Mexico, home of the VLA (Very Large Array). I just saw it for the first time today (it’s about 100 km outside of Socorro). I’m not actually here to observe on the VLA, of course, much though I might like to.
So, how is radio different from optical? Well, you don’t care about the weather (it’s been cloudy, raining, whatever (even thunderstorms apparently) at Greenbank, but we haven’t even noticed (of course, at higher frequencies you do notice, but we’re not using them). You can observe during the daylight. RFI is nasty (not so much at high frequencies but, again, that’s not what we’re using). The data reduction package (“AIPS++”, now called “CASA”, and we’re using a single-dish package called “DISH”) is just as quirky as IRAF, but involves a whole new learning curve. Of course, you still use FITS files. All hail the mighty FITS file format (seriously, if there’s one development that has made astronomy easier for everyone, the FITS file format is probably that development). Oh, and the telescopes are a lot bigger. Even the VLA’s (individual) antennas are maybe 15 metres across, (and there are 27 of them, spread over about 40 km, which makes for a very impressive sight), and I can’t even imagine Greenbank — a fully-steerable 100 by 110 metre telescope. Araceibo is 300 metres across, but you can’t move it.
Overall, it’s been a productive (if busy) trip, and New Mexico, aside from the heat and dry conditions, is a really nice area (this part of it, anyway). And now I can add another part of astronomy to my list. |
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| A Day in the life |
[Oct. 30th, 2005|06:56 pm] |
Just in case anyone who reads this wants to become an astronomer, or just wonders what it is that we do all day, I’m writing up a pretty typical day of observing. Note that, when not at the observatory, the typical day involves analysing data, writing papers, writing observing and grant proposals, and pretty much sitting in front of your computer working. But, really, except for the analysis part, that’s not what anyone became an astronomer for. Observational astronomers, at least, chose the career because we enjoy observing, so that’s what I’m going to write about.
3PM Wake up. Well, actually, you might wake up any time between 2PM and 5PM, depending on where you are and how long the night is. But 3PM is probably about average.
4PM Meeting. Basically, you hear what happened during the day from the day crews, you hear about any changes to the observing plan from the queue co-ordinator, and you discuss any problems that you had the previous night.
4:15PM Supper. Well, for you it’s breakfast, but the meal is supper. If you remembered to ask for a night lunch, you pick that up too.
5PM Head up to the summit. You want to be there in time to have everything ready to start just after twilight, if the weather is good. You see, it’s still too bright until about half an hour after sunset (for science exposures, anyway), but you can still take flatfields (these are important for analysing your data, because they let you figure out if there are any problems with the CCD). You can also take standard stars (reference pictures of stars with known characteristics, also used for calibration and analysis)
6:30PM End of nautical twilight (there are different definitions of twilight, but astronomers tend to use the nautical one). Now, you can start observing.
Observing Basically, at any given time, you look up what the conditions are. What’s the seeing like (lower is better), what’s the cloud cover (less is better), where’s the moon (and in what phase) (dark is better), and so forth. Then, based on that, you look at the available observation programs that can be done with that quality. Of those, you choose one that has a visible target (it’s hard to look at things that are below the horizon). If there are several that still match, you take whichever one was rated highest by the TAC (Time Allocation Committee). Then you move the telescope to the right place, take your acquisition images (short exposures, intended to make sure you actually have the target in the right place), and then start guiding. Every program specifies a guide star for each observation, and you use a smaller telescope to fix on the guide star to keep from deviating too far away from your target. Once you’re guiding, you start taking the exposure. This might be imaging (possibly with a filter, so you only see part of the spectrum) or spectroscopy (with a grating, so the wavelengths are smeared out, and you can see how much light is at each wavelength), and you may be looking at the optical (~3000-10000 angstroms) or infrared. Each observation specifies the configuration of the instrument, and fortunately the telescope systems are usually able to automatically configure the telescope.
Of course, sometimes things don’t go so well. You might have clouds coming over, or various other things that interrupt you. In that case, you can close the shutter and pause the observation, but if you do that for too long too many cosmic rays will hit your detector and you won’t get good quality. You also can’t go too close to the horizon (too much air in the way, and the telescope won’t point too low), and there’s a limit to how long you can follow a target (there’s only so far you can rotate the dome in either direction). So, in general, there’s a lot of stuff that has to be considered in figuring out what to do. So all night you look at one target after another, taking as many exposures as you can (taking into account the varying weather).
5:15AM Start of twilight. More calibrations now. More standards, flatfields, arcs (reference spectra so that you can calibrate your spectroscopy, and figure out the actual dispersion (which wavelengths are where on the CCD), etc. Once you’re finished those, you probably leave the telescope doing daytime calibrations (bias frames, or some such).
6:30AM Go back down to the dorm. Generally, you’ll arrive around 7AM, have your breakfast (although, for you, it’s supper (you had lunch probably around midnight)), and go to bed some time around 7:30AM. Then repeat.
So there you have it. A day in the life of an astronomer. Assuming, of course, that things work well. If they go wrong, the observing part gets a lot more complicated. |
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| The Third Day |
[Oct. 30th, 2005|06:07 pm] |
Miracle of miracles, today actually looks like a good day to observe. It was pretty humid around sunset (we have to close up at 85%, and it was over that), but the clouds are dropping now, and so is the humidity, so it looks like clear conditions. Well, CC70, IQ70, but not bad still (CC — cloud cover, and the 70th-percentile is about as bad as you can go and still do worthwhile observing, and means an extinction of about 0.3 magnitudes, while IQ — image quality, measures the “seeing”, and 70% is around 0.7-0.8” (arcseconds)). Sadly, that means that the weather is too good to do my program (I’m at CC70/IQ85, and there are higher priority programs for any better conditions), but we did get some data yesterday.
We actually got 2 3/4 of the 8 exposures that I need for one of my targets, and it looks like there’s enough data to say that there isn’t actually a DLA in this Quasar spectrum (unless it’s in one of the chip gaps, but that looks unlikely too). So I’m really excited that we actually got some data.
On the way up tonight, we saw someone cycling down Mauna Kea. That’s definitely a professional athlete thing, because the air here is so thin that physical activity like that would be dangerous for most folks (and could be dangerous even for athletes, but the ride down probably isn’t too bad, since you don’t have to pedal very much).
A couple of tourists wandered into the telescope just a couple of minutes ago (you’d think that the “Authorized Personnel Only” signs and such would be a hint that they shouldn’t just walk in, but apparently not).
That’s it for now. The humidity has dropped, and we should be able to open up pretty soon, and start taking pictures. |
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| This is crazy |
[Oct. 29th, 2005|07:43 pm] |
We’re guiding on Vega. I mean, we’re guiding on Vega. It’s first-magnitude. It should saturate the detector in a 0.1-second exposure. But in a 1-second exposure, we’re only getting 20,000 counts. That’s nuts. It’s really cloudy out.
Wait a sec, we just lost guidance. On a first-magnitude star. Theoretically this telescope should be able to guide on things down to 14th magnitude, so that means there’s a lot of extinction going on. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 29th, 2005|06:21 pm] |
You know, the ride down from the summit is scary. Imagine driving down a mountain road, at night, and you’re not allowed to use headlights (to keep from interfering with other people’s observations). So we used the four-way flashers to light our way down.
In the cafeteria at Hale Pohaku, there’s a trash can right next to the spot where you drop off your dirty dishes to be washed. There’s a big note by the trash can saying “For garbage only. Note: Silverware is not garbage” I wonder how much trouble they had with that before they put the sign in.
On the way up tonight, our truck came close to breaking down (it stopped being able to shift out of first), so we went back down to Hale Pohaku to trade trucks (given that the road is unpaved most of the way, you really need an SUV for that road). Speaking of which, we passed a Neon which was struggling its way up. I guess someone didn’t read their rental agreement about not trying to take their little car up a mountain that doesn’t have paved roads.
We also stopped on the way to help some people with a flat tire. Two young women in a rather smaller SUV who, unfortunately, got a massive nail in their tire and discovered, most of the way up the mountain, that the tools in their truck weren’t the right size to take off the flat tire. Fortunately, we had the proper tools in our trunk (along with the medical kit and a bunch of other stuff). Strange times.
With luck, we’ll have good enough weather to actually do some real observations this time. Maybe even on my program (since the weather is bad enough that mine is one of the few that might be able to run). |
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| Tired |
[Oct. 29th, 2005|03:57 am] |
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Only two hours to go, and I can get to sleep. It's been a boring night as far as observations go (too many clouds -- we were able to take a few spectrophotometric standard stars, but that's it before the clouds closed in and we lost the guide star). Since then, we've done flatfields and arcs, and even a few bias frames, but that's not exactly an exciting job. And it looks like the next few days will be more of the same, although I should be better rested than I was today (or, at least, not up so early). The one good thing about having nothing much to do related to astronomy is that I was able to have a really nice conversation, since there wasn't really anything else occupying my attention. It's almost impossible to sleep at this atltitude, as tired as I am. I can't wait for the sun to rise so I can go to bed. |
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| At the top of the world |
[Oct. 28th, 2005|06:49 pm] |
So here I am at the top of the world. I just actually got to see the telescope. It’s (roughly) 4 stories tall, and as wide as a 3-story building is tall. And that entire width is a single, massive mirror. Just incredible. It’s cold up here (around freezing), and the wind is pretty bad, and I’m feeling the altitude. I just feel tired, and my knees ache (joint problems).
The drive up was interesting. Most of the road isn’t paved, so it was a bad washboard, with a steep drop on one side, cold wet and rainy conditions, a narrow road with two-way traffic, and sliding all over the road at the speed we were going. It’s clearer up here, but there’s still a massive amount of extinction happening, so the weather is crappy even at this altitude.
That said, I’m having a lot of fun. I woke up around 7AM, so I’m going to have trouble staying awake until 8AM tomorrow, but that’s just part of the job… I am learning quite a bit about what actually goes on in the telescope, which is nice. And so far I haven’t fainted or anything, which is also nice.
It’s amazing how many tourists were up at the summit to watch the sunset. Many vanloads. At least they didn’t try to get in here. And, as per regulations, I have my radio with me so I can ask for help if I need it (of course, everyone else here is in the same room, so really I don’t need it right now).
That’s it for now. Observing takes it out of you. |
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| I can see your house from up here |
[Oct. 28th, 2005|12:19 pm] |
So here I am in Hawaii. Wearing shoes, socks, pants, a shirt, a sweater, and a coat. And I’m still cold. Isn’t it lovely visiting a tropical island?
So I arrived in Hawaii this past Wednesday, after spending quite a few hours in airports or on planes. The architecture here makes sense for the climate, but still strikes me as weird. Most buildings at sea level (like my hotel, and the airport) aren’t actually closed off — they have roofs, but not walls. I realize that it never gets incredibly cold here, but I still kept getting startled at walking around inside and suddenly being outside.
The hotel I stayed at was pretty nice, and included a breakfast buffet (which is always nice when travelling, because when I arrived I was too tired to eat much, and so I was incredibly hungry when I woke up. There seems to be a lot of asian influence here — for example, there was miso soup in the breakfast buffet, which I’m not very used to.
So, after spending one day at sea level (and being a bit overheated), I’m now up at Hale Pohaku, altitude 9,100 feet. It was raining like crazy most of my time at sea level, but we cleared the clouds just as we arrived at the dormitory, and there were a lot of stars out. It’s always nice to see the stars really close, and I’m told that the view from Hale Pohaku is the best there is. Up at the actual summit (13,974 feet), apparently, there isn’t enough oxygen for your eyes to work very well, so you can’t see the stars nearly as well there (or so I’m told, and I’ll find out soon enough).
The dorms here are nice. Not much light (or heat) (well, we’re up a mountain, it’s probably hard to get much power), but there’s a double bed, an electric blanket (see the “no heat” part), and a set of blinds that block the light out very well (which will be useful when I’m fully over to an awake-at-night schedule, which should hopefully be pretty soon.
This morning it was super clear up here, but recently it’s turned into a fog (well, inside-of-a-cloud, anyway). I’m going up to the summit for the first time tonight, and I’m a bit nervous. At my orientation yesterday, I was given a couple of “be careful” cards showing symptoms and what to do about them (one yellow, one red). I’m going to put a transcript below, because apparently altitude sickness can hit anyone.
- Yellow Card (Minor Emergency, High Altitude Sickness)
- Minor Symptoms
- Mild Shortness of Breath
- Dizziness
- Lightheadedness
- Headaches
- Visual Change
- Palpitations
- Chest Tightness
- Nausea
- Steps to be Taken
- Inform Duty Officer
- Rest / Slow Down / Drink Fluids
- Pressure Breathe
- Oxygen Application (fixed flow type)
- No Improvement: Descend to Lower Altitude
- Symptoms Persist: Proceed to Hilo Medical Center Emergency Room
- Red Card (Major Emergency, High Altitude Sickness)
- Major Symptoms
- Sudden Severe Unrelenting Headaches
- Shortness of Breath
- Chest Pain
- Abdominal Pain
- Major Signs
- Slurred Speech
- Visual Disturbance
- Loss of Coordination
- Paralysis
- Collapse
- Seizures
- Slow or Rapid Heart Beat
- Labored Breathing
- Unrelenting Nausea or Vomiting
- Steps to be Taken
- Inform Duty Officer
- Drink Fluids
- Take Aspirin, Tylenol
- Lie Down Until Feeling Better
- Pressure Breathe
- Oxygen Application (fixed flow type)
- Leave the Summit Immediately
- Follow the MKSS Emergency Procedure Plan
So yes, it’s scary reading, but it is nice to know that they have medically-trained people around just in case, and that they’re willing to shut down the telescope and drive you down if they have to. So I’m really excited about seeing what goes on, but a bit nervous about how I’ll be at high altitude. At least they feed us fairly well here (at least by cafeteria standards, anyway).
I’ll try to make another entry from the summit (I don’t know if I’ll have network access there) (strange how I post mostly when I’m travelling to mountains). |
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| Strange things to hear |
[Oct. 22nd, 2005|10:08 am] |
So, Morgan and I were having a little discussion this morning about the average age of marriage. She said that she thought she had heard, in one of her classes, that the average age of marriage in Canada was dropping, from somewhere in people's 30's or 40's (back in the 1920's), to around 20 years old now. I was less certain of that, and I did a little checking around until I found the Statistics Canada report from 2000 (the most recent one released as far as I can tell), and a CBC news article related to that.
Turns out that, in 2000, the average age of marriage was 31.7 (female) and 34.3 (male), up from 25.9 (female) and 28.5 (male) in 1980. Quite the difference, especially when you realize that that makes both Morgan and I rather young to be getting married (by almost 5 years for her, and by almost 10 for me). The CBC article also had a little segment on the most common causes of divorce, and their top five were:
- Different values and interests
- Physical and emotional abuse
- Alcohol and drugs
- Infidelity
- Career-related conflict
I said something about not having to worry about 1-4, at least, and Morgan agreed about the first 3 and then said "Now I just have to look up what infidelity means." I told her it meant being unfaithful, having affairs, cheating (etc.), and her response was "Oh. That's why I had no idea of what the word meant." I think this explains a lot about why I didn't think we have to worry about it.
Another interesting fact: divorces are at their highest after three years of marriage. I still don't think we'll have any problems, but I'm looking forward to crossing that particular divide.... |
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| My God, it's full of stars... |
[Apr. 18th, 2005|05:04 am] |
If you want to see this look all nice, you know where to go.
I just went out and looked at the stars (the moon had just set). It was just completely amazing. I saw so many stars, so many, it was even hard to pick out the constellations with all the other stars in the sky. The Milky Way was amazingly clear. You know, this is why I got into astronomy in the first place. But seeing all the stars, with no light around at all, it was like nothing else in my life. I was just so filled with awe and amazement. Anyone reading this, this is something you have to do, at least once. Find yourself a high place, at least 2000 metres up. Make sure there are no clouds at all, dry and clear and cold (you get better seeing in the cold). No light at all. An observatory is perfect, because everything around it is designed to keep the light from getting in. Then just look up. Take a few minutes, and the stars will start appearing. Then the Milky Way. If you’re far enough south, maybe the Magellanic clouds. And it’s just the most amazing sight. I’m going out again tomorrow to see it. I’m still in awe. |
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| Thoughts from the mountaintop |
[Apr. 17th, 2005|11:36 pm] |
The entry, as it was meant to be seen, is here.
Sometimes it’s really brought home to me why it is that I do this sort of thing for a living (astronomy, that is). This morning was one of those times. The last object that we observed looks like it might have a DLA (and there was great rejoicing), and then we took the trip back down to the Residencia to sleep.
It was incredible. There’s something about being out in mid-twilight (the sun was going to rise in about half an hour), and seeing clouds stretched all the way out to the horizon below you, catching the light of the almost-risen Sun. As tired as I was, I enjoyed the sight, and I almost stayed up to watch the sun rise (but not quite — I collapsed instead, and woke up again about 3:00 in the afternoon).
After doing a quick check of the telescope to make sure that everything was working (because it’s the weekend, we don’t have to worry about day workers coming in and changing our settings), Max took me for a quick tour around the mountain top. I got to see all the way down into the caldera from a spot near one of the telescopes, and we took a fifteen-minute (or so) walk down one of the trails near the top.
The trip was incredible. The whole top area and caldera is a national park, and the rock types are really interesting. An assortment of volcanic rock, with a few outcroppings of sedimentary. All sorts of loose stones, and I really wish I knew more about geology. There was also a surprising amount of stuff living up on top of the mountain. In addition to the really common bushes (which are a specific type whose name I forget, but which apparently flowers in May and looks really nice then), there were occasional flowering plants or cactus-like things in little sheltered rock crevasses. There are also little lizards that move incredibly fast (they’re a sort of blue-black colour), and birds which are apparently related to crows, but have the wing structure of hawks (as well as red beaks and legs). They seem to really enjoy gliding on the winds, and there were five or six of them doing acrobatics while we were on the way back for supper.
There are three helipads up here, and I finally learned what they were for. Apparently they were built when the observatory was being officially opened so all the Kings and Queens of the countries involved could get up to the top more easily. Given that there are observatories here associated with England, Spain, Italy, Belgium, Holland, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland (and possibly others), I guess there must have been quite a few people coming up to see the ceremony…
Considering that all the food and drinkable water has to be brought up from sea level, we do eat fairly well here. There isn’t that much choice in what we eat, of course, but what’s there is pretty good. Everyone I’ve met here has been very friendly, and it’s been really nice to meet people who are also involved in astronomy, but who come from all over the world.
Another thing that strikes me about this place is how much trust there is. You leave your room door unlocked all the time, and when you’re going observing you just leave your key at the front desk in a little pile with the other keys. The car keys for the observatory cars are just on hooks near the front desk. The 24-hour breakfast (which, given the hours that astronomers keep, makes every kind of sense) works by taking what you want and marking it down on a list so that it can be added to your bill. I’ve just been leaving my computer in the telescope all afternoon since that’s the only place I can actually access the internet, and it’s apparently a fairly common thing to do. Granted, if something did go missing, the list of suspects would be pretty short (there aren’t that many people up here), but it’s still nice not to really have to worry about things being stolen.
I just went outside and looked at the stars. I know, that’s what I’m here to do, but it was nice to see something other than spectra — jagged lines don’t have quite the same romance that the actual stars do. It was incredible. Because the moon was so full (a bit past first quarter) it was hard to see the faint stars, but I was still able to see more than I usually can from Victoria. All the light around me was from the moon — no light pollution at all on the mountain, at least to my eyes. It was incredible. I’m going to go out again later once the moon has set to see it again.
Well, that’s it for now. I should do some more work on my essay while I have time. |
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