Some geocaches are marked on the official map by question marks, which means that you need to solve a puzzle of some sort in order to find that particular cache. We've established that I can't pass up a puzzle to save my life, which will absolutely be my downfall one of these days.
My kids had soccer camp in a nearby town this past week. Because I had to be in that vicinity anyway, I checked the geocache map for the area and located half a dozen nearby caches, one of which was of the puzzle variety. It took me the entire day yesterday--no exaggeration--to solve the damned thing, which started with a simple find-a-word that resulted in a code message that then led to a crazy exercise in image analysis. The necessary clues turned out to be secretly embedded QR codes. (Cue extensive headbanging on desk during the discovery process.) Even when I finally figured out what the code message meant, I had no idea how to do the image stuff and had to figure it all out on the fly.
|This is an example of a QR code. I have no idea what this particular one is for.|
God bless the man, Himself (who is of the definite opinion that my hobbies should not be either addictive or infuriating, as they so often seem to become) spent half an hour this morning figuring out how to download the image manipulation software I needed to solve the problem, entirely against his better judgment! Or perhaps he just wanted me to finally look up from the computer and stop swearing, who knows. :) The good news is that I finally have all the info I need, and will take Thing One with me to find the blessed thing tomorrow morning so I can scratch it off the list once and for all. Holy hell. My life would be a lot simpler if I was constitutionally capable of giving up when the going gets tough, but for better or worse I am just not wired that way. Knowing this, he does his best to help me get through whatever I'm stuck on instead of just telling me to quit!
Tonight, Himself and I were drinking cava with dinner. Thing One asked why the carbonation makes it sparkle and where the bubbles come from. I watched with amusement from across the table as Himself attempted to explain how bubbles get into sparkling wine, stay there, and eventually fade away without using the terms "vapor pressure" or "equilibrium," both of which any self-respecting student of chemistry (as both he and I have been) would ordinarily find very helpful in this situation. It was tremendously endearing to watch him make a valiant effort to explain principles of high-school chemistry to a rising fifth grader in age-appropriate language!
I got a Facebook message a few weeks back. The friend who sent it is a Lt. Colonel in the Air Force, and is going to be doing some training in my general vicinity (far from his home base) before shipping out to Kabul; he wanted to see if we could get together for a visit while he's here. He was also a college boyfriend of mine, of relatively short duration and long ago, but high intensity at the time. I haven't seen him in person since I was in grad school, lifetimes ago. Our breakup was the result of geographic incompatibility, and was tough at the time, but in retrospect, unquestionably for the best: he's now happily married to someone who is a far better fit for him than I ever would have been, and vice versa. I'd love to see him if we can work out the logistics, but there's no hidden agenda. And I am inordinately blessed in that Himself is secure enough to be ok with this.
I met Himself fifteen years ago this month. I figured out that he was a keeper very soon after I met him, and he continues to prove me right. I kissed my share of frogs, no doubt, but I eventually found my prince.