To say that I have been absorbed the last few weeks would be a minor understatement. After my amateur operator’s license was issued (finally) I have been spending much of my time learning how to use the equipment and, well, operating.
On weekends I generally drive up into the Pine Nut Mountains where I have a wonderful place to setup my portable radio and operate outdoors. This satisfies me in so many ways. I really like to be outside, but I need to be intellectually engaged or I chafe with boredom. The radio provides that engagement and I spend a lot of my time listening and a little bit of my time talking.
It is difficult to operate my radio here at the house. There is so much interference from as yet unidentified sources that I can hear only the strongest signals. There is a local net that meets six days each week on the 10m band for a local chat. Because most of the signals are so strong, I am able to participate in that meeting. Yet I still cannot hear several of the stations that regularly participate.
Aside: A net is a gathering of operators at a particular time on a particular frequency. They are usually directed, that is coordinated, by a net control operator who acts as a master-of-ceremonies to ensure that the conversation is orderly and that stations are not transmitting at the same time.
Nets have many purposes — some are informational, some are rag-chews, and some are for passing traffic between stations to be delivered to other places. They can be a lot of fun because of the organization and the chance to operate the radio.
Most of my voice operations are on the weekends when I’m up in the mountains where it is quiet (both in the audio and the radio sense of the term). I really like that.
The image is from one of my favorite locations. I expect to spend many weekends at this location and others, operating my radio outdoors and enjoying it a great deal.
A friend asked about my weblog a few days ago. It reminded me that I need to give some attention to this space as well as the other things I do. Of course, I was locked out of my own weblog. The overwatch software was doing its job.
My call sign was issued on 15 April, finally. I guess whatever list on which there was a name similar to mine was reviewed and my application for a amateur radio operator’s license was approved. I downloaded the PDF of my license, printed a copy (both for the station and my wallet), and took it over to FeDeX Office to have it laminated. I carry the wallet card and the larger version is on my radio table.
That is when the work started! Assembling a working station is a significant task. There is a lot more to it than buying an appropriate radio. There is a workspace to set up that can accommodate the radio and its support hardware (mostly a power supply, but a computer is helpful too). There is at least one antenna to set up. For the high frequency bands, there is a lot of spectrum to cover and do-all antennas are not always the best (or even a good) solution.
I have a random wire (well, pseudo-random) stapled to the top of my fence and fed with a matching transformer. It is working OK for local communications (I participate in the daily 10m net) and for digital contacts on the 40m band.
Oh, I forgot to mention that I earned my license at the bottom of the sunspot cycle. That means that propagation is about as bad is it gets at this time. The bad news is that making distant contacts will be challenging. The good news is that it only gets better from here!
I have been using a handheld radio to talk to the local VHF nets. There is a repeater located in line-of-sight to my home and five watts is enough to open the repeater so I can participate — if I stand in the right place in the house!
I bought an external antenna and yesterday afternoon was spent working out the install, procuring the materials for the install, and then installing the Diamond X50-A VHF/UHF antenna on my roof. That meant buying a ladder, hauling all the stuff up the ladder, being careful not to fall off the ladder (or the roof), and completing the installation. I tested it with my backup handheld radio (I would rather blow a $50 handheld than my desktop station) and was able to open the repeater and get confirmation that my signal was received.
In the time between the submittal of my application and the issuing thereof I spent a Saturday afternoon in an antenna design class offered by the Northern Nevada ARES coordinator. It was a good class, I learned quite a bit, and the result was my random wire antenna. A better replacement will follow as I work out the next step for my station.
Last Saturday afternoon I sat a class (the same instructor) on use of a software called fldigi. It is actually a suite of programs that work together for both digital communications and for transferring files between stations and/or via a net of stations. This software is used by some ARES units for coordination of traffic during emergencies. Therefore, I wanted to learn how to use the software.
The theory is done. Now I need to get some practical experience with operating the software and my station. The instructor is planning a local net for his students to practice over VHF. Therefore, I was highly motivated to get an antenna up so I can run VHF from my station. That task was done yesterday. I will set up my backup radio to run VHF from my station and then get my MacBook Pro talking to the radio so I can run the fldigi suite and get on the air.
In the meantime, I have playing radio a little. I am able to participate in the afternoon 10m net. Most of the stations can hear me and I can hear most of them. I am able to make some contacts using one of the digital modes, FT8, which is a weak-signal mode. I have a significant noise issue here at the house, so I have been operating portable in the hills east of Carson City on the weekends. I like being outside. It is quite there, both from an auditory perspective and from a radio perspective. I can hear much better. I am able to check in to the noon 40m net that operates out here in the west and was able to check in to the High Noon Net that operates from Colorado (I think). This is good operating practice for me and is building confidence that I can actually get out, be heard, and hear other operators.
There is more and I will write about it. The image this morning is from my archive. Lucas the Spider is an animated character I follow on Instagram and on YouTube. He is a funny little guy and is one of the few plushies that I would have. He is perched on top of one of my speakers to remind me to have fun and be kind.
This old highway atlas was one of two that I found in my cache of odd things in the garage when I sold my house. It dates from the 1980s and is seriously out of date. Yet, I used it a great deal when I was wandering a couple of years ago.
The highways are still there. It is possible to navigate without GPS. What that means is there will be wrong turns and some confusion about finding the next highway. What it also means is serendipity in finding places that I would not otherwise see.
I would pull up the rig at a turn or a turn out, roll down the windows for fresh air (if they were not already down), and pull out this atlas. I have another paper atlas that is current and has more detail, but there is something about this far-away view that attracts me. But I digress. I would find my location, more or less, and look at the highways and towns nearby. Then I would make a decision about direction and move out.
Many times on these pauses I would step out of the rig, camera or binoculars in hand, and just look around. The Girl would sniff about doing doggie-things while I did human-things.
I will keep this old atlas. I have a feeling that there will be another wander sometime in the not distant future. I might decide to put my things back into storage or just get rid of the lot. I might decide to buy an RV or a motor coach and give up a permanent place. I do not know yet. But in the meantime, this old atlas is in the rig, waiting, perhaps calling, and that wanderlust is still within me, in the background, waiting, perhaps calling.
I am still waiting for my amateur radio operator’s license to be issued. My name is similar to one on an “alert list” so the automatic system pulled my application and put it in queue for review by a real person. The estimated time is weeks. To say that I am a little bummed by this outcome would be an understatement.
But I have plenty to do. I am working on my station and there is a lot to do to set up an HF station. I have equipment, but antennas are an issue. I built a simple 40m dipole and erected it in my backyard. The matching transformer arrived last week (I will learn to build them as well), so I need to attach it to the mast and then tune the antenna to resonate at the middle of the 40m band.
In the meantime, I just put up a random wire antenna, stapled to the top of the fence along my backyard. I ran the feed line into my workroom and attached it to my transceiver last night. Reception is better than with the previous instance and I can hear traffic on the 80m and 40m bands. The bands are not open much right now because we are at sunspot minimum and so there is not much energy to drive the ionosphere, which is where much of the long-distance propagation occurs.
Morse code and the digital modes are going to be the mechanic for making contacts until the Sun becomes more active. I decided to make a real effort to learn Morse code while I wait for my license. I also will work on my portable station so I can operate away from town and all the noise here. I have plenty of access to quiet areas with elevation so low-power operation is viable. Besides that, I will get away from the house, be outside, and can camp a little. Both The Girl and I will like that.
There is plenty of other work to do, too. I have a bunch of images to review and process. The little raptor above was one of my recent captures. He/she flew up near me and posed prettily while I ran the camera. The Carson River floodplain was where I saw my first Kestrel and I see them often. They are furtive, though, and do not often provide me much time to capture an image.
I am enjoying the better weather lately. The Girl and I are walking the Carson River daily and the trees are about to leaf out. I hear blackbirds calling, woodpeckers drumming, and the geese are still honking. The river is up a little as the snow begins to melt and it looks like there will be abundant water this year. I heard one of the ARES members talking about releases from Lake Lahontan in anticipation of snowmelt and they are spilling excess water into the desert down near Fallon.
The Girl just wandered in. She is looking for breakfast and an outing. I need to retrieve the Fuji’s batteries from the charger and prepare it for another wander. I want a bite, too, but do not feel like cooking this morning. Subway has some decent breakfast sandwiches, so I think I will wander over there and pick up something. Then we can drive out to river, enjoy some sunshine, and spend some time outdoors. Perhaps Mother Nature will bring me a treat.
Several weeks ago I was sharing breakfast with a friend when he mentioned that he was preparing to sit the Amateur Radio Service Technician Class examination. He had purchased a software defined radio receiver and found himself an Elmer (radio slang for mentor). I was intrigued.
Several years ago I picked up a copy of the ARRL Technician Class license manual. It occurred to me that if the mobile telephone system were to go offline that I would have a difficult time getting word out to my family that I was alive and well. I knew that unless something deeply catastrophic occurred the amateur radio bands would be open and that I could get a message out to my family via that avenue.
But, life being what it was, I set aside the manual and did not pursue the license required to operate radio equipment on the amateur bands. My friend’s revelation motivated me.
“I’ll do it with you,” I said. I reflected my initial interest from a few years before. I also mentioned that I played with radios when I was a teenager and remembered something about them.
I quickly learned that my license manual was out of date. I ordered a fresh copy and began working in my old copy. When the new version arrived, I picked up the thread.
After a week, I decided I could probably do enough work to pass the General Class examination as well. General Class privileges include a lot more of the HF (high frequency) bands. While I was buying books, I went ahead and ordered the Amateur Extra Class license manual as well. I knew that the questions were valid for another year, so I thought I would work on that after working through the other two levels.
About the end of February I attended my first SIERA radio club meeting. The exam coordinator belongs to this club and invited me down to visit. While I was visiting him, I mentioned that I thought I might attempt all three examinations. He said “That’s very difficult. I can be done, but I don’t recommend it.”
A few minutes later, the club secretary wandered by. “What was your name?” she asked. I told her. “You are going to attempt all three examinations in March?”
“Well, yes I am” was my response. “I might not pass all three, but I think I’m going to try.” So, my intent was logged into the club minutes. There’s nothing like a little pressure, is there?
The technical level for the General class is a bit greater than the Technician level, but it was not awful. I started work on the General Class material when I started passing the Technician practice tests with scores in the 80 percent range.
A couple of weeks ago I found myself passing the General Class practice tests in the 80-90 percent range. So, I thought to myself, I might as well start on the Extra Class materials.
Those materials were quite a lot more technical. There was a lot of basic circuit theory, radio equipment theory, antenna theory, propagation theory, and operational policy. The Extra Class examination comprises 50 questions; the other two classes only 35. The pass rate for all of them is 74 percent.
I failed my first practice examination. “I don’t know if I can be ready for this in time,” I thought. Yet, I continued plugging along, working through the material, working all the example problems, and preparing for the next practice test.
I passed the next practice test. My score was not great, but it was sufficient to pass. The HamStudy website and iPad application provided a lot of practice. The app indicated that I had seen about 65 percent of the questions in the pool and my aptitude was less than 50 percent. I still had work to do and only a week to get it done.
I kept after the material. Once I made it through the book, I continued using the Hamstudy flashcards and practice tests. A few days before the examination date I was passing the Amateur Extra practice tests with results in the 80–90 percent range. I stopped trying to learn new material and spent my last few days reviewing, adding to the holes in my knowledge, and practicing problems.
Saturday morning, I met my friend for an early breakfast. “Are you ready?” he asked. “About as ready as I can be,” I responded. We continued chatting about the radios and the world over breakfast and then headed for the venue.
We gathered with a fairly large number of other attemptees. After a few minutes, Greg, the coordinator, called us to attention and began handing out the paperwork. There were some forms to complete and then we were to hand in our forms and pay the examination fee.
One of the proctors looked at me, “Are you the guy attempting the trifecta?”
“Yep, that would be me.”
“There are about 12-hundred questions in that pool. There’s no way anyone could memorize that many questions,” he remarked.
“Well, I studied all the material,” I responded.
The first exam was distributed. I wrote my test number on my answer sheet and opened the examination. Ten minutes later I handed in my examination. Then I waited while the proctors reviewed my answers. The second proctor looked over the shoulder of my inquisitor, then gave me a thumbs up and took my answer page to check.
A few minutes later I was handed the second examination (General Class) and answer sheet. I repeated the process. I spent a little more time on the General Class examination because I wanted to be sure I caught all the words. I handed it in after maybe 20 minutes.
A few minutes later I received another thumbs-up. I waited for the third examination, knowing it would be more challenging. Soon I had the examination booklet and answer page in hand. Again I filled out the required information and opened the examination.
I do not know how long that exam took me. I know that one of the new proctors (they had two new guys sitting in for experience) was watching me carefully. It was not that he thought I was cheating, he was curious about my approach to the work.
In the 50 questions, there were some I could not remember. (Some of the material is rote memorization.) There were quite a few soft-balls in the lot that were easy to answer. There were a number that I knew, not just from remembering, but I new the material.
I handed in my exam. Again, I got a thumbs-up from the second proctor as the first finished correcting my examination. I did all three classes in one sitting. I was told that does not happen often.
The man watching me smiled. He said “I knew you were going to pass the last examination. You were very focused on the work. Congratulations.”
I am an engineer. Most of my life has been spent figuring out ways to solve problems. Some of them are amenable to mathematical solution. Others require a more intuitive approach. All are based on my understanding of math, physics, and chemistry. This exercise in the Amateur Radio Service licensing examinations was no different. They were not as difficult as my engineering license exams, nor my Master or Ph.D. exams. The Extra Class examination was challenging and there was a real risk I might not pass.
But, I did. I was reminded of an aphorism another operator shared with me. “Do you know what the call the person who graduates at the bottom of their medical class… doctor.”
All I had to do was pass. Once my license is issued, then the practicals begin. I have to learn to operate the radio in real space, not in book space.
I am pleased the ordeal is over. I am looking forward to the issuance of my license and call sign. Then I can operate my radios. It is fun stuff.
Among other things that I do, I am an engineer. (Yes, I am doomed to a life of social ineptitude, see: this.) I am fascinated by all things mechanical and electrical. Therefore, the value represented by the Greek letter π is of special interest (and use) to me.
And, as it turns out, there is a day set aside each year (in fun) to remember π — March 14. Therefore, at 1556h today, I am taking a moment to celebrate six significant figures of π.
I realize it has been a long time since I wrote anything here. A lot of water passed under the bridge.
Several of my projects all needed work done. Some of it was on deadline and some of it just needed to be done so that other parts of the project could proceed. So I found myself working a lot and having little energy left over for some of the other things that are important to me. One of those things is this space, where I enjoy parking some words and some of the images that I make as I wander through this life.
A few weeks ago a friend and I were sharing our weekly breakfast. We meet at the Red Hut Diner, spend some time bullshitting and some time talking about more serious things, and just enjoying fellowship. We are quite different and that is OK. I think that having people in my life who think differently than I do is not just intellectually stimulating, but it helps me steer away from confirmation bias.
While we were breaking bread and chatting, he told me he was preparing to sit the Amateur Radio Operator Technician Class license examination. I was reminded of my own intention to be licensed. I went so far as to purchase a manual a few years ago. But life got in the way and I let the intention go unattended.
“I’ll sit it with you,” I said. He looked at me, a little startled.
So, after seeing that my manual was out of date, I ordered a fresh copy (they change the question pool every few years and update the manual). I started working through the manual and then decided that I could probably pass the General Class exam as well. So I ordered that manual.
Neither of these manuals are very technical. There is a little in there, but nothing too challenging for an engineer. I emailed the examination coordinator and he gave me the details. He mentioned that one can take all three examinations, although he didn’t recommend that one take all three.
In the middle of this, I caught the flu. I was really ill for several days. It was the fever that was the worst. I continued my studies as I could, but I was really out of it for several days. A good friend brought me some supplies and I survived.
Then the project work was behind, so I was pushing to get work out again as I regained my strength.
Along the way I decided that I would try for the Extra Class license while I was at it. I learn best by immersion. So I ordered the final manual and began my studies while I took practice tests for the other two examinations.
We had a few nice days in this period of time. The sun came out and dried up some of the mud. The Girl and I walked some of our favorite spaces down by Carson River. The red-shouldered hawk in the frame came from one of those walks.
The weather turned cold and snowy again. Today it is spitting snow. The Girl and I will get out in a bit and get a little more walk in. Then I think we will go to the grocery store and retrovision the house. I need some food in the house.
In fact, I just heard her jump off the bed and shake… the ears flapping is always the give-away. My washer load is just about finished, so I can put my jacket into the dryer and start the other load. I should be finished with my laundry tonight as well.
On one of our hikes along the Riverview Park/Empire Ranch Trail, I paused to make a capture of Mt. Scott, to the north from Carson City. The camera I had with me was my iPhone XS Max and the scene begged for a black and white capture, so I used an application called MPro, which produces only black and white images.
It does a very good job with black and white and is my preferred camera application for monochrome captures. It offers a variety of filters that imitate the optical filters we used in the film days, and the yellow, orange, and red filters offer increased darkening of the sky. The application also stores the capture in a TIF file, which is lossless and about as close to a RAW capture as one can get.
The image has been laying about in my album for a week or two. A couple of mornings ago I was awake much too early and decided to play with some images. I am experimenting with another application called Pixaloop that is produced by the Enlight folks. It enables addition of motion to a still image to create something I have seen called a kinoptic or cinemagraphic image.
I do not know what made me think to make the clouds converge near the centerline of the image. But it seemed the right approach for this one.
As I worked through my day, a few more thoughts occurred to me. Perhaps they are worth sharing, so here goes.
The Girl and I walked more than five miles today. We had a long walk this morning down by the Carson River, which remains a favorite place. We greeted doggie-friends along the way. She had plenty of opportunities to sniff, pee, and explore her usual haunts.
On the route back to the rig, she split off on one of our favorite alternate paths, which takes us right down to the river but off the main trail. I particularly like this place and often walk this side path. But today I was ready to get home so I stayed on the trail.
She trotted our a couple-dozen yards, then turned to look at me. I know that look… “This way!” she says. But I stayed on the path, so she came running over to me, “encouraging” me to go the other way. So I played the this-way, that-way game for a bit, pretending to walk first one direction, then another.
She played, first leading me one way and then the other. After a few iterations she ran a large-circle zoomie and returned to my side, at least for a moment. Then we were back down the trail toward the staging area and the rig.
I laughed with her and played a little of the grab-ass game, with me grabbing either a little ass or a little tail. Either works and causes a big laugh from both of us. Dogs are such physical creatures and I love that about them.
I picked up a print job and a sandwich on the way home. The Girl was a little tired, but not too tired to pass the chance to beg a little of my sandwich, which I happily shared.
After lunch we had a nice nap. One of the things I love about my life is that ability to take a break and sleep for a few minutes in the afternoon. That time spent with The Girl is another small thing that gives me some joy.
We walked again in the evening, over that the old orphanage. It was a beautiful winter afternoon, with a few clouds, some sun, not much wind, and 55F. I noticed Squirrel’s memorial as we passed and thought about all the things I wrote earlier in the day. I spent some time praying as I walked and remembered Wife’s life as well.
These thoughts passed as the sun fell behind the Sierra Nevada and we returned to the rig. I elected to treat myself to supper and drove out to Applebee’s. I have not had a steak in a long time and wanted one. So, that’s what I did. The Girl worked for me and spent her time under my table, as good as always.
So, now we are home again. I ate all the steak, so I got out a Greenie after we got home, made her work for it, and then treated her. She earned it. And now she is sleeping under the table next to me.
As I sat in the restaurant, I recalled Becky’s comment and how I went to a grief group a couple of times. The hospice sent me a couple of invites after Wife died. I resisted at first, but then decided “what the hell” and went.
The first meeting was very small. There was a couple of women, another man, and me. The group leader went through her materials. We talked a little about our grief. Then the leader offered a few things and we broke up.
The second meeting was different. There were a lot more women, maybe ten or twelve. Then there was that other man and me. The dynamic was different, although I would be pressed to describe why and how. It was just different. I then realized practically something I knew intellectually — men and women process their grief differently. I realized that the other man (a bit older than me) was stuck. He was not going to move through his grief until he either learned to let go or got professional help. The women were not going to be much help to me.
When the meeting broke, I walked out of the hospice center where it was held. My back was straight and turned to the exercise and I knew I would not return. It was not right for me. I was doing what I needed to do to process my grief and the group was not going to help me with that.
And so it was. I did not go back. I read my books for advice. I did the work. I knew that no one else would be able to do that work for me. It was mine and mine alone to do. So, that is what I did.
Becky’s friends who recently lost loved ones have a hard path to walk. I do not envy them that path, but I know that can traverse what is before them, do the work, and be healed. Their loss will suck, it will continue to suck, it will always suck, but the suck will decrease with time and work (hat tip to Jim for that one). They will be stronger for doing the work. I pray that they can.
In reflecting on my day I realize how blessed and thankful I am. I have more than I need and about all that I want. My dog and I spend a lot to time together. I have enough work to pay my bills and then some. The work keeps me intellectually engaged. The dog keeps me emotionally and spiritually engaged. I am blessed. I am grateful.
It does not appear that I wrote about the scene above. I looked in my archive, because I thought I wrote about the sad story of Squirrel, but found nothing. Perhaps that is because I talked to Older Son about what happened quite a lot and I am confusing conversation with writing. Therefore, if the story is familiar to you please feel free to pass this story.
Late last year, The Girl and I were walking our circuit(s) around the old state orphanage one evening. I noticed a marker, a pot with some dianthus in it, and a paper fluttering in the evening breeze. I am the curious sort (not nosey, I promise), so I stopped to read.
What I read caused my heart to sink. It was the heart-wrenching story of another park visitor whose little dog was attacked and killed by a pair of larger dogs at this spot. Two “pet bulls” charged Squirrel, grabbed him, and tore him between them before they were called off by their handlers. “They must have thought he was a toy,” was what they were reported to say before they hurried away.
So, this man stayed with his little dog as the life left him, shocked and dismayed. I do not know this man, although we interacted a few times over the last couple of years. He is one of the afternoon visitors to the little park, where several others bring their dogs each day. He had three dogs, as I recall, and they would follow and play as he walked the circuit as part of their daily routine.
Later he returned with the marker to celebrate his little dog and remember what happened at that spot. I came across the marker only a few days after Squirrel died. Since that time, I have been quite watchful for the two white “pet bulls” and their “heavy” handlers. I have not seen them.
I spoke to one of the DPS troopers (Capitol Police Unit) who patrol the area every day. He was aware of what happened and asked if I had seen the dogs and their handlers. So, the authorities are aware of a couple of aggressive dogs who attacked and killed another.
I reflect on this almost every time I walk past the memorial. Since November, it has been enhanced and made relatively permanent. The groundskeepers seem to leave it alone. Passersby added some stones and other things to the site. I will probably bring a rock from somewhere and leave it as a token of respect for this man’s loss. I can imagine his grief at the violent loss of his beloved little dog. It saddens me to think of it.
And I know grief. One cannot live six decades and not experience a variety of loss. My grandparents are all gone. My parents are gone. My sisters are gone. I am the last of my generation’s nuclear family. I have a brother-in-law and an uncle still alive, and of course, my children and grandchildren.
But the most difficult loss was Wife. She died six-years ago, today. That loss, and the grieving that followed, was crushing. Losing my parents and my sisters was hard, but those losses paled in comparison to the loss of Wife. I recall the sound that emanated from me the moment she died. My sons heard it. I still have difficulty believing that I made that sound.
Like the moment of Wife’s passing, that sound did not last long. It marked my passage from caregiver to widow. And then… the grief-work began.
I learned to enter into my grief, not to let it possess me, but to fully experience it, to work it because that is the only way to get through it. Grief cannot be put away or buried. It must be lived in order to be healed. I did that work and it was not easy. It was a way to honor Wife’s life and the relationship that we shared for all those years.
It took me nearly two years to work through my grief. The first year was absolute hell. The second had moments of clarity and moments of darkness. But, near the end of the second year, life began to be interesting again.
The holidays remain difficult because of Wife’s love of them. They always bring memories of her joy in that season. I know I am not alone in that perception of a mix of joy for the season and sadness at my loss. I am alright with that and accept it as part of the gift that came with spending most of my life with her. Then, today is difficult as well, marking the anniversary of her death. But it does not hurt like it did five- and six-years ago.
I will grieve a little today as I remember Wife’s life and our life together. It is a good thing to do, so long as I do not let that affect me negatively. But, I am healed of my grief. I did that work and it was a good work. It celebrated and honored Wife and our communal life as a family. I think these are honorable actions.
And, I am reminded of another old man who lost his little dog, whom he loved. Maybe those dogs are his only family. Maybe he spends all of his time with those dogs and has little human contact. It would not be the first time such a thing occurred. In any event, I understand and relate. I nod at the memorial in salute every time I pass it, thinking about my own relationship with The Girl and often of Wife’s life and that relationship.
And today I celebrate and remember Wife, who died six-years ago today. I will grieve a little, but only a little. Wife would chastise me for dwelling on the negative. She would be right.