A thing we did Sunday night at Anthrohio, after convention closing but before going to Skyline Chili, and that didn't fit in that monstrous large post: we went letterboxing. bunny_hugger researched letterboxes near the AnthrOhio hotel, to have them ready to show in case people were interested. One turned out to be at a corporate park almost within sight of the old convention hotel, the one that had not been torn down. I'm not sure that we passed the supposed-to-be-doomed-but-not hotel every day we were in town, but it seems like we did. The letterbox was, sad to say, not there. It was last found in, I want to say, late 2016; it'd been reported not-found since then. Given our search of the area I think we have to report it lost. Likely someone planted it when they worked in the corporate park, and they've since moved on and not been able to tend the box, which is the fate for these sorts of things hidden in public areas.
But what caught my imagination was that the letterbox had been planted in 2011 (I think it was). So every Morphicon/AnthrOhio I'd ever attended had been just down the street from this box, ready and waiting for us to discover it. And it turns out we just missed it by not thinking to check. A thought that haunts me is of how easily one could miss something great. It could be a good counter to my natural lethargy, if I could learn the lesson.
Monday we had to get up early; the hotel check-out was at 11 and as good as we've gotten about checking out --- taking stuff down in several trips is such an easy but effective way to make our lives better --- that still requires getting up sooner than we'd like. And it promised to leave us in Columbus with a day to do ... whatever? So what did we feel like doing?
The obvious choice was the Columbus Zoo. We'd had only a couple hours there the last year, cut short by the doomed effort to get to Coon's Candy before what would have been its closing hour. (The place was closed for Memorial Day, which we didn't know.) But it had been a madhouse the previous year, and the day was a somehow sunnier, warmer holiday Monday than what we'd seen before. It would be great to ride the carousel again and go on the Sea Dragon and maybe even see some actual animals or accidentally learn something. But between the heat and the crowds we imagined would be there and the general tiredness we'd had from several long days running the Zoo didn't seem appealing. And not much else came to mind. Columbus has a bunch of barcades, but those wouldn't open or be happening until midafternoon or evening. We only had the one letterbox nearby and we'd already found that one was lost.
So, we went home instead. This got us back to our comfortable and not too warm house, and nice cozy bed and all, several hours sooner than we might have expected. Early enough we probably could have retrieved our rabbits from bunny_hugger's parents, but we would leave them for the next day. We could instead enjoy normal, quiet time, which is as important for a person as their active and exciting times doing stuff is.
Trivia: The human body is estimated to require perhaps as little as five micrograms of nickel per day. Typical daily intake is estimated about 150 micrograms. Source: Molecules at an Exhibition: The Science of Everyday Life, John Emsley.
Currently Reading: The Philosophy of Mathematics: An Introductory Essay, Stephan Körner.
PS: How June 2018 Treated My Mathematics Blog, a recap.
PPS: More Jersey Shore miniature golf pictures.
Several levels of the miniature golf, including the waterfall. Behind it, the street frontage of Casino Pier; the Floyd Moreland carousel is past the entrance between the two tallest towers there.
Panoramic shot (I'm going to kill myself taking panoramic shots someday) of the Ocean Terrace and buildings lining the shorefront at Casino Pier. Taken from the highest point on the pirate-themed miniature golf course, which is why the boat scenery.
And peering down a couple levels of the golf course. You can see where the street lights have been encased in carbonite for weather protection.