A greener buzz?

When I was young, electric toothbrushes were something we laughed at.  Imagine being too lazy even to wiggle a toothbrush up and down without powered assistance! But as an adult, I discovered that most dentists now thought they were rather good, and recommended them.  

Electric toothbrushes did a better job of cleaning in general, they said, and the smaller head would get into places that manual toothbrushes wouldn’t reach.  Perhaps, I thought, gadget enthusiasts like me shouldn’t feel embarrassed about actually trying one.  I wouldn’t have to admit it to anyone..

“There’s a huge range”, I remember my dentist telling me. “Don’t go for the ones with silly prices and dozens of bells and whistles.  40 quid or so is probably about right.”

So, for a while, that’s the kind of thing I used.  They’re probably about 50 or 60 quid now.  They have a rechargeable battery, sit on a base that charges it inductively, and have a simple timer to help you spend the right amount of time brushing.  You know the kind of thing.

But one thing about them always bugged me: the batteries were rubbish.

Long before the motor or the casing gave up the ghost, the built-in, non-replaceable battery would die, or stop holding enough charge even for one brush, and the whole thing would have to go in the bin.  Then I’d buy a new one, which came with its own charging base, so the previous base, and cable, and plug – they all went in the bin too.

This was not very good for my wallet, and a great deal worse for the environment.

So I expect you will laugh, gentle reader, when I tell you that what changed my purchasing habits was brushing my dog’s teeth.  Yes, our spaniel gets her teeth brushed every night, and she enjoys her chicken-flavoured toothpaste, but won’t tolerate brushing for very long, so we got her an electric brush, too, to make maximum use of the time available!

We weren’t going to buy her any big 60-quid devices, though, so we looked online for ones designed for children, and Tilly now has a children’s Oral-B toothbrush.  It’s pink and blue and I think it has fairies or princesses or unicorns on it, but she doesn’t seem to mind.  

And as we used this, a few things struck me:

  • The motor mechanism looked as if it was just the same as my own expensive one.
  • It took the same brush heads.
  • It used replaceable AA batteries.  I had plenty of rechargeable Eneloop AAs.  (Take a look at my post from about 10 years ago to see why I like those. I’m still using much the same system now, and most of the batteries I had back then are still in use.)
  • This also meant I didn’t need to have charging bases and cables in the bathroom.
  • It didn’t have a timer.  But I could count elephants.
  • It cost about one quarter of the price.

And so I now have, and can recommend, a very basic Oral-B battery-powered toothbrush. Currently £14.99 on Amazon.  It has lasted longer than my previous expensive ones, and the two AA batteries hold their charge way longer than the built-in ones ever did.  Occasionally, I take them out to charge and swap in some fully-charged ones from my drawer — that’s why I love Eneloops and similar rechargables: they stay fully-charged in the drawer — and freshly-charged batteries seem to last for weeks.

Since I got this, some years back, nothing has gone in the bin except the occasional elderly brush head, and when it does eventually die, it’ll be far less wasteful than something that takes its batteries and charging base to the grave with it.

Oh, and best of all? Mine doesn’t have any princesses or unicorns on it.  Tilly is still bitter about that.

Purposeful

A busy sanderling on Holkham beach

This little sanderling was a very busy chap on Saturday, at Holkham Beach. He darted about, running up and down the waterline, and showing no interest in stopping to pose for a photo…

Disquieting fact of the day?

Taylor Swift sells more music than the entire categories of jazz or classical.

FT – 5/2/24

Conspiracy

John Naughton quoted this on his blog, but it’s so good I had to repeat it here.

Two Donald Trump supporters die and go to heaven. God meets them at the Pearly Gates.

“Tell us,” they say, “what were the real results of the 2020 election, and who was behind the fraud?”

God answers: “My children, there was no fraud.”

After a few seconds of stunned silence, one turns to the other, whispering: “this goes higher up than we thought.”

What makes them do it?

The problem of large numbers of asylum seekers trying to cross the Channel in small boats is one, I confess, that I have avoided thinking about too much — and I therefore understand few of the subtleties involved.

So I was particularly taken by this BBC piece, which follows one 14-year-old boy, Obada, who died a couple of weeks ago on the Normandy coastline.

How did he get there? Why was he trying to get to the UK, rather than some other country?

The authors have done a lot of research to make it a personal story, rather than another abstract statistic.

Well worth a read.

All the world’s a garden centre

All the world’s a garden centre
  And all the men and women merely customers.
They have their checkouts and their entrances,
  And one man in his time plays many parts,
His visits being seven ages.

                                        First, the infant,
  Yelling and crying in his all-terrain stroller.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his gameboy
  And scowling morning face, bored by all he sees,
  Until the animatronic reindeer arrive in mid-September.
And then the lover, sighing like a furnace,
  With a woeful text to his girlfriend about
  How his mother had to stop on the way.
Next, the influencer, seeking a sausage roll
  And a power tool for his next ‘unboxing’.
Then the PR consultant, now behind the stroller,
  Feigning an interest in his wife’s roses;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
To the retiree, whose rose garden is his pride and joy,
  His wife mostly absent at the golf course. Last scene of all
  That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness, and such oblivion
  That you take the bus to the garden centre to shop for clothes.

Tips for Fastmail (and perhaps other email) users

Do you use one of those ‘free’ email services, which make money by reading your emails so they can sell things to you, and sell you to others?  Or do you get it from your ISP, which makes it hard for you to change supplier and possibly quite complicated when you move house?  Or do you pay for a proper email account?

I’ve been doing the latter — using Fastmail for all my personal, family and business email — for a dozen years now, and have always been very happy with the service, accessing it through standard email programs on each of my various platforms. They’ve also always had a very nice webmail interface, but in general I prefer to use native apps rather than websites where I can.  

This week, though, I’ve been experimenting with some features that turned out not to be quite so easy using my particular favourite apps, but were available through the site.  One example is ‘Snooze’, which takes an item out of your inbox now but brings it back at a time you specify — this evening, for example, or next weekend.  Things like this are nice to have, but there was another feature that was becoming a bit more essential to me.

I have a pretty large array of email addresses, which I use for various purposes.  Some of them are just aliases on my main account, and some are separate email services provided by the university and other organisations.  But I arrange that everything ends up at Fastmail, where it’s under my control and can be centrally searched, managed and archived.   I either forward mail from each other remote service, or configure Fastmail to go and fetch it periodically.   

Aside: I was bitten once in the past by having an email account at one of my previous companies, to which I still had access through being on the board for a while after I left, but when the company was closed down rather suddenly, the GSuite account was deleted almost instantaneously before I knew about it, and quite a bit of my email from that period simply vanished into the ether.  I have the majority of my email stretching back as far as 1991, and I value that archive, so this was a bit of a blow.  If you also value your data, make sure you look after it yourself!

Anyway, it’s becoming ever more important, in the battle against spam, that when you send mail, you send it using a server that is properly configured to be officially associated with the ‘From’ address you’re using.  Some servers, especially GMail, are pretty fierce now about rejecting email purporting to come from, say, myuser@statusq.org but are actually sent using my account at the university.  (There’s a range of technical standards such as SPF and DKIM which help a receiving email server assess the claimed provenance of an email message.)

And I often do need to send using different From addresses, so I normally have my email apps set up to talk to all of my email accounts (currently whittled down to just Fastmail, iCloud, Gmail and University, though I used to have rather more), and once all of these are set up on all of my many devices, in general they’re pretty good about sending the right message through the right service.  But it’s a little untidy, and I end up with a lot of mail folders even if most of them are empty. And when I want to set up a new alias, I need to make sure it sends from the right place on every one of my devices…

This week, though, I hit one more issue.

There’s a service I’ve been using even longer than Fastmail, and that’s Pobox. This is one of those email-address-for-life services, and ‘quentin @ pobox.com’ has been the email address I’ve given out to people since roughly the turn of the millennium, ever since I realised how important it was to have an email address that would outlive any particular employer or ISP, but before it was easy to do so using your own domain (which is, of course, the best option now).  There’s also a great deal to be said for having an address that is easy to dictate to people: they’re always grateful not to have to copy down something like my.long.surname4356@hotmail.co.uk, as I am whenever I have to type or write it down myself!  (Even with my nice pobox address, I have keyboard shortcuts on all of my devices so that ‘qpo’ automatically expands to my email address. Highly recommended, if you don’t do something similar already.)

Anyway, Pobox now offers various services, but the basic one I’ve been using for 23 years simply forwards my mail to wherever I ask them, after having filtered out the most obvious spam.  I don’t actually store any email there, and I don’t have an IMAP account with them.

And this is where I was starting to come unstuck, because I do now need to send email using their SMTP service, whenever I want it to appear to come from pobox.com, but my normal favourite Mac email app, for example, though amazingly powerful in other ways, only really understands the concept of email servers which have both incoming and outgoing services.  Perhaps understandably, it, like many other apps, doesn’t cater for a complete email server that’s only used for sending, can’t receive, and for which any incoming emails appear in another account!  Not yet, anyway!

All of which is a long explanation about why I’ve been using the Fastmail web interface again, because Fastmail does allow you to select a different SMTP/Outlook/Gmail/whatever server for sending depending on your outgoing From address.  And it does allow you to retrieve email from multiple accounts without having to set them up on each of your devices.  And it offers a range of features that should satisfy the requirements of most power users, all without having to sell your soul to, say, Google, or use nasty proprietary systems like Outlook/Exchange.  Yet your email is still completely accessible using standards-compliant IMAP etc when you want it.  And my Pobox emails do get sent using Pobox. And my university mails get sent using Exchange without me having to touch Exchange for anything else. Perfect.

But what about the fact that I prefer to use native apps instead of web sites for this kind of thing?

Well, there are official Fastmail apps for iOS and Android which work pretty well, and on the Mac I’ve been rather pleased to discover FMail2: a thin wrapper around the web interface but implemented as a local app, meaning it can be your default mail program, handle `mailto:` URLs, see an icon in the menu bar, etc.

All of which helps ensure that if I send you an email from my favourite email address, you’re less likely to have it filtered out as spam.

Lucky you.

 

Favourite Christmas card

A pleasingly ‘Cambridge’ card, purchased in Heffers a couple of days ago. This year, we weren’t organised enough to buy any cards before Christmas, let alone post them. Apologies to anyone who might have been expecting one!

The card, by the way, comes from Cambridge Imprint, who produce a range of pleasing products.

(And if you like this post, you might enjoy this one from 14 years ago.)

It’s good to be back

We’re spending a week around Christmas in a cottage in the Lake District.

It’s very wet, very windy, and as beautiful as ever.

Peak-walking

One Friday night, in the dark, towards the end of November, I set off from home in the direction of the Derbyshire Peak District. Three hours later, I parked my campervan in the car-park of a friendly pub, and settled down for a night of testing its heating system against the outside temperatures, which had dropped well below zero!

But the following morning dawned bright and clear, and I could see the edge of Ladybower Reservoir.

With the sun still only on the hilltops, I headed up the frosty path behind the pub, looking forward to emerging into the brightness above.

Before too long, I was looking down at sunlit fields of happy sheep…

and the reservoir I had left behind.

Once up on the top of Derwent Edge, the path was easy and, though the air temperature was low, there was almost no wind, which made for delightful walking conditions.  I met many other travellers who were enjoying it as much as I was.

Places that might have been very muddy were now frozen, and the places that might have been untraversable bog…

were crossed by well-maintained paths, winding into the distance.

It really is a very pretty area…

…with lots of fun and varied rock formations en route.

But it’s not without its perils.  Many an unwary traveller has become prey to the giant prehistoric lizard who hides behind one of the ridges and creeps up on them from behind after they have passed by.

Despite this, I was having such a good time that I got a bit carried away, and what had been intended as a short morning stroll got extended for mile after mile after mile.

Though the weather was lovely, the areas in shadow were still frozen, and I was impressed at the dedication of the couple who had given up this quantity of their bodily warmth, long before I appeared on the scene, to record their affection on a thick slab of stone!

By this point I had done about eight miles and was starting to be more aware of the fact that I had set off without even a biscuit (since I had expected to be back for lunch!)

So I was glad when I reached the path theat would take me back to the reservoirs below: a gully cutting down through the Howden Moors.

The sun was getting lower, and much of this area was in shadow. Icicles dripped beside me…

…and in places I was rather conscious of the perilous drops to my right, as I, a tired, lone traveller, contemplating the likely time of sunset and remembering the temperatures of the night before, negotiated a path that I think was primarily used by the local sheep.  The slimmer individuals amongst the local sheep, too…

So it was with some relief that I made it down to more sheltered, level ground again in the last vestiges of the sunshine.

However… it was still 3 or 4 miles back to the van, so I set off in the gathering gloom along the side of the reservoir, passing the impressive Derwent Dam where the Dambuster squadron used to practice.

Just beyond the dam, I joined a lovely woodland path, broad and well-maintained, which was good because by that point I was dependent entirely on moonlight to avoid any obstructions!  The trees were just slightly darker patches of black to my left and right.  But I managed to avoid walking into them, or tripping over their roots, and so it was that I arrived, footsore but happy, back at the van, whence I had set off for a short morning walk after a small bowl of cereal 15.3 miles earlier!  

A lovely area for walking and highly recommended, though I do suggest you also take a biscuit or two!

 

More information about the rest of the trip should be coming before too long on the campervan section of my YouTube channel.

The effects of a pub lunch?

Spotted in the skies above Derbyshire a couple of weeks ago. First thing in the morning, perhaps after a good strong coffee…

Later in the day, in those same skies…

Phew, Bob – that was a bit close!…

Waste not

On Wednesday I was part of a group that visited Thalia Waste Management, a substantial local domestic-waste-processing and recycling facility, and it was most interesting.  

Quite apart from seeing some of the machinery and getting a feel for what actually happens to the stuff in those bins you leave on the kerb, we heard some humorous stories. They told us, for example, about how the machinery which processes food and garden waste from our green bins is sometime brought to a grinding halt because somebody has used them to dispose of old garden tools and machinery.  It’s garden waste, after all…!

I wrote last year about ‘The Recycler’s Confession‘:

We have left unrecycled those things  
which we ought to have recycled;  
and we have recycled those things  
which we ought not to have recycled.

and wondered which was the greater sin.  

Well it turns out that the residents of most of Cambridgeshire can recycle much more than I realised.  

In the past, we couldn’t recycle black plastic containers, for example (because the optical systems used to distinguish plastic types couldn’t cope with it), but that’s less of an issue now, mostly because there’s a lot less black plastic used in packaging (for this reason). Also, in the past we were told not to recycle cellophane film, so for 20 years or so I have been carefully tearing it off the front of my Parma Ham packaging.  This, I discover, is no longer needed.

But in the UK the rules do vary widely from place to place.  This is partly because of the different recycling facilities available now, and partly because of the availability of, or economic viability of, those facilities available when the contracts were signed with the local authorities.  In my local area, the rules for Cambridge city and South Cambridgeshire are different from East Cambridgeshire, even though the waste is processed in the same location.  Peterborough is different again.

So the chap who was showing us around recommended RecycleNow, a handy site which lets you type in your postcode and search for exactly what can and can’t be recycled in your area.  Most useful.

Overall, the visit was an encouraging experience, but I was considering the waste which still goes to landfill, despite the impressive efforts of Thalia and others.  I wondered whether perhaps, one day, it will be economic to go back process some of the materials that aren’t economic now, in the same way that the slag heaps from mines can yield up new treasures today when we discover that demand for some element suddenly makes them worth re-processing.  

I’m keeping my fingers crossed that, one day, someone will invent a car battery for which polystyrene is a vital component!

 

 

© Copyright Quentin Stafford-Fraser