Story of my life. I have a problem just doing things early before they become a problem. It's in this spirit that I went to the tax offices today and did my tax return. Today is the last possible day to do your taxes before the government begins to get annoyed with you and you have to pay penalties or some such hoopla. I had good reason, though, not to be eager this year. You see, when my company offered me this job, they threw in a lot of incentives, most of them large and taxable. I didn't realize how taxable until today, because I'm now going to have to pay so much tax that I, sort of, have no idea how I'm going to pay it all. Yes I'm talking thousands. Sigh.

I'd better not hit one single pot-hole on the way to work Monday.

Just wanted to make my blog live up to its name, although simply not ever writing another entry would suffice. Anyway I'm cleaning up this dump so that Gary won't run screaming when he comes for a visit tomorrow night. We're going to hit the pub and partake of the Irish beer. But must clean first.

So I'm making use of my personal home cleaning product which I created myself, and which (when sprayed from a spray bottle) cleans better than anything I've ever bought. I will now name those ingredients:

1. Water
2. Dish soap
3. Bleach

Yes, that's right. No more will I ever purchase a bottle of crap for seven dollars that just smears the mess around a little. This stuff will nuke the dirt at the site. Were it not for my headphones and my iPod and Marvin Suicide blaring, I could surely hear the bacteria as I enter the bathroom as they scream in horror, "Nooooooooo! Not the 'special' mixture!!! AAAAAAHHHHHH" and then they die.

I sit now in satisfaction having nuked the bathroom (including the nasty looking plastic shower curtain, now gleaming in virginal transparency) smoking a cigarette. Oh, and yes the apartment now smells like cigarettes and bleach. Something like a janitor during breaktime.

Now I need to work on a replacement for "Febreeze" to get rid of the stink.

Now this is fascinating. As always, truth is much stranger than fiction. I was listening to an excellent podcast called "Nova Science Now" which was my original source for the news of the impending strike from a big rock in the year 2036, which has a high probablility of hitting us right in the middle of the Pacific ocean. The first question that comes to mind is, "So what is Nasa doing about it?" and the answer is nothing. Then the next question is "Well can't we just send some nukes and blow it up?" and the answer according to Nova is no. The nuke would likely just rearrange things, and there would be no way to be CERTAIN that the job is done, and the public needs certainty. So that's when the scientist being interviewed offered up his idea. And it was an idea that just shocked me with its simplicity.

As you all know, all large bodies attract each other due to gravity. It's the weakest force in the universe, but it's what holds us to this planet, and what holds the moon to Earth, and us and the rest of the planets to the Sun.

The idea is this: Send a small craft into space to rendezvous with the rock. Then instead of making tricky maneuvers and landing, and setting up a rocket to propel it away from us, you simply park it nearby in space, and stop it from falling. That's right, stop it from falling... onto the rock. With just a small amount of propellant, the craft can sit in a stationary orbit, stopping itself from falling onto the rock, and this action will pull the asteroid in the direction of the craft. Without touching it. It would have the same effect as if we shot a grappling hook down to it and started pulling. They call this a "gravitational tractor"

Who the hell could have thought of something so simple? The guy says we only have to change its VELOCITY by a few ten thousandths of a kilometer per hour over many years of tugging and it will miss.

Thank God for big brains. That rocks.

I've found a very neat way of communicating with two of my friends in different parts of the world. One lives in Wales (knitting cold fusion researcher, Brenda Dayne) and one lives in Seattle (science fiction writer, and weaving madwoman Syne Mitchel) both are excellent writers, and it's always hilarious trying to keep up with their knitting-needle-sharp wit. We use Skype, which gives you the ability to keep a long conversation going between several people at once. All of us are night owls, and all of us have different time zones, so we often find ourselves together inexplicably. But even so, there are long periods where two of us might be having a conversation when the other is absent, but when I go to my computer I can read back.

It's really neat and I think I can foresee a little habit growing. Speaking of habits, a nun recently joined the Chub Creek listenership, and I found myself suddenly watching my language and that I didn't say anything too controvertial. Then I shook it off and realized that's likely not what anybody listening would want; an edited version of the Creek. I need Gary to come back and blow the doors off.

So I'm sitting here on a Sunday enjoying the nice, spring sunshine, a cup of very strong, sweet coffee with cream, and two hours of Coronation Street. Ah, life. Couldn't get much better. Soon I have to go check Skype and see if anything has happened since I've been away. We need a name for our little chat group... like "the Group of Seven". Except it's only three. Barely a group really... Any ideas. Do you care? "The Knit, Weave and Dink Trio". Okay I have too much time on my hands.

Have a great Sunday.