Pictured above is a polymer designed with capillaries like that present in human skin. The capillaries are filled with low-viscosity, monomeric dicyclopentadiene, which to us non-materials scientists could be referred to simply as the healing agent. That's right, this is self-healing plastic. The moisture you can see on its surface is its "blood", which will coagulate into a solid epoxy, filling in the cracks in the plastic like a scab. The possible uses for this cool stuff are many, from car finishes that repair their own scratches to spaceships that repair all their stress fractures as they happen. And of course it will be key for the development of the Terminators and other soulless runaway robots who will eliminate the then-superfluous human race. Probably to make us into batteries or something equally lame.
Another application could be walls in your home, so one could pound their fist into them with impunity. Of course bleeding walls are nothing new, but generally it requires at least one gruesome murder, a soul trapped between worlds, and a malicious, bile-spitting demon. However, neither futuristic plastic nor all the proverbial king’s horses and men could get my house back together right now.
Not for under 100K anyway.
We have reached stage one of what shall be referred to from now on as “The Project.” Not to be confused with The Projects, which are kind of a different thing altogether, although we may take some time to watch the asphalt grow.*
Stage one is demolition, which is exactly what it sounds like. They destroy everything. Well, everything that they are supposed to destroy. In theory, large sections of the house are supposed to survive this construction maelstrom. I think my contractor really likes smashing things, as he keeps calling me up to ask if he can smash something else. Now I love to break things as much as the next guy, but everything he tears out I have to replace with something brand new. Since I do not relish the thought of building my new house only to sell it because I can’t afford to live there, we will have to stop smashing eventually.
I’ve included a series of before and after pictures. If I haven’t screwed up the formatting, the pre-demo is first and the post-demo is second. Generally I hope it is quite obvious which is which, although the house was a bit of a mess by the time we got completely moved out. I did my best to take pictures from the same angle where possible.You might also notice that the pre photos were done in daylight, while the post photos were done at night. It is standard to pull these kind of shenanigans with before and after pictures, this being the architectural equivalent of taking the fat photo in bad lighting and a filthy, ill-fitting bra.
Running from top to bottom we are looking at a) the back of my house from where the tri-trunked tree stands toward the previous main bathroom, b) the kitchen counter and sink, complete with cabinetry and dish washer in mid-removal, c) the corner of my den, beyond which a closet and small guest bathroom once stood, d) the main bathroom from inside the house, and e) the whole expanse of my kitchen running down to the laundry room.
It is more than slightly discomforting to see the place you have made your home for 8+ years completely gutted and presently unlivable. Since I first visited at night, I felt more than a little bit like a spirit returning to haunt the ruins of what was once my abode. Go to the light! Into the light... No, the street light, dummy. It is just too damned dark in there with the power turned off. I am likely to bust an ankle.
In other news it turns out I still have two baby twin daughters, which, despite the balance of info on the blog of late, still take up the majority of my time. The monsters are crawling, requiring baby-proofing and crib height adjustments and generally being a lot more "on-my-toes". They can go from 0 to stuck under the couch in 6 seconds flat. Rylie, who has been slightly (one weekish) developmentally behind Kayla all along has suddenly pulled into the lead, at least when it comes to crawling and climbing. While also quite mobile, Kayla seems more interested in studying stuff near her, like books or balls, than moving on to the next thing as fast as possible. We have decided that she is the scholar and Rylie is the athlete. Done. End of story. Glad we got that figured out so we can treat them differently from now on...
Well, maybe I will let them continue to develop on their own. If Rylie surprised us once by overtaking Kayla, who knows what will happen when we get to talking. But I still plan on having their whole lives mapped out by age 2. In the meantime, here are the two in their crib, undoubtedly up to something.
* Die-No-Mite!
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