Dan Q found GC98MZC Tar Lakes/South Leigh Loop #2 Four Weddings

This checkin to GC98MZC Tar Lakes/South Leigh Loop #2 Four Weddings reflects a geocaching.com log entry. See more of Dan's cache logs.

I spent a long time looking in all the wrong places before I finally… swung around… to the right way of thinking. Brilliant hiding place, FP awarded.

I’d figured that this path, being listed as a bridleway, would be suitable for my bike: i.e. relatively broad and flat, no stiles, etc. I was partially right, and the path soon became a little bumpy for my mostly road-going bike, but it worked out.

Dan Q found GC98MY7 Tar Lakes/South Leigh Loop #1 Baywatch

This checkin to GC98MY7 Tar Lakes/South Leigh Loop #1 Baywatch reflects a geocaching.com log entry. See more of Dan's cache logs.

I decided this evening to get out into the (cooling, but still quite hot!) air and cycle to Witney for a pizza picnic. And if I was going to do that, I figured, then it’s not much of a diversion of my route from Stanton Harcourt to go via the first half of the Tar Lakes/South Leigh Loop while I’m out.

I started by cycling up the old West Oxfordshire Cycleway/Tar Lane to this car park. I’ve walked around the lakes previously and noticed the position of the object referenced in the hint, and so as soon as I was in the vicinity I knew where I’d be looking. Soon the cache was in hand!

Note #19021

I made a graph to show how the number of large hand tools stored in our garage has changed this last year…

Graph showing, over time, the number of large tools increasing as a rake, midi-spade, post holer, rake and others are acquired. Each acquired tool is labelled with what it is. However: a hatchet, a pickaxe and two log splitting axes are not labelled.

…but I forgot to label the axes.

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Lichfield

We took a family trip up to Lichfield this weekend. I don’t know if I can give a “review” of a city-break as a whole, but if I can: I give you five stars, Lichfield.

Dan in front of Lichfield Cathedral, early on Sunday morning.
It’s got a cathedral, which is quite pretty.

Maybe it’s just because we’ve none of us had a night away from The Green… pretty-much since we moved in, last year. But there was something magical about doing things reminiscent of the “old normal”.

Dan and the kids in a bed at a hotel.
“I’m so excited! We get to stay… at a Premier Inn!” At first I rolled my eyes at this joyous line from our 4-year-old (I mean… it’s just a Premier Inn…), but it did feel good to go somewhere and do something.

It’s not that like wasn’t plenty of mask-wearing and social distancing and hand sanitiser and everything that we’ve gotten used to now: there certainly was. The magic, though, came from getting to do an expedition further away from home than we’re used to. And, perhaps, with that happening to coincide with glorious weather and fun times.

A balloon artist wearing a unicorn on her head makes sculptures for children.
Socially-distanced balloon modelling turns out to work, not least because you can hand one of those long balloons to somebody without getting anywhere near them.

We spent an unimaginably hot summer’s day watching an outdoor interpretation of Peter and the Wolf, which each of the little ones has learned about in reasonable depth, at some point or another, as part of the (fantastic) “Monkey Music” classes of which they’re now both graduates.

Ruth and John sit on a picnic blanket in a painted circle; the maquee for the band is behind them.
So long as you weren’t staring at the painted circles on the grass – for corralling families apart from one another – you’d easily forget how unusual things are, right now.

And maybe it’s that they’ve been out-of-action for so long and are only just beginning to once again ramp up… or maybe I’ve just forgotten what the hospitality industry is like?… but man, we felt well-looked after.

From the staff at the hotel who despite the clear challenges of running their establishment under the necessary restrictions still went the extra mile to make the kids feel special to the restaurant we went to that pulled out all the stops to give us all a great evening, I basically came out of the thing with the impression of Lichfield as a really nice place.

Dan in Lichfield city centre, deserted early on a Sunday morning.
Take social distancing to the next level: do your urban geocaching at the crack of dawn.

I’m not saying that it was perfect. A combination of the intolerable heat (or else the desiccating effect of the air conditioner) and a mattress that sagged with two adults on it meant that I didn’t sleep much on Saturday night (although that did mean I could get up at 5am for a geocaching expedition around the city before it got too hot later on). And an hour and a half of driving to get to a place where you’re going to see a one-hour show feels long, especially in this age where I don’t really travel anywhere, ever.

But that’s not the point.

Ruth and the kids eat breakfast
The buffet was closed, of course, but these kids were made for an “all you can eat” breakfast.

The point is that Lichfield made me happy, this weekend. And I don’t know how much of that is that it’s just a nice place and how much is that I’ve missed going anywhere or doing anything, but either way, it lead to a delightful weekend.

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Dan Q found GC84Q4F Sam’s Cache

This checkin to GC84Q4F Sam's Cache reflects a geocaching.com log entry. See more of Dan's cache logs.

As the attached picture shows, there was not a soul to be seen out here this morning but that didn’t stop me from feeling like I had to use stealth as I mooched suspiciously around this exposed corner. Went straight past the correct location and spent an embarrassing amount of time looking at exactly the wrong pieces of metal before returning to what turned out to be the right place. TFTC!

Dan near the corner of the Samuel Johnson Birthplace Museum in Lichfield, in a deserted public square early in the morning.

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Dan Q couldn’t find GC8CXVF Wiggly Windings

This checkin to GC8CXVF Wiggly Windings reflects a geocaching.com log entry. See more of Dan's cache logs.

DNF but that’s probably on me: I need to complete my morning’s geocircuit and get back to my hotel before the rest of my party get up and go to breakfast, so I was short on time to perform a more thorough search.

Dan Q found GC7B9HC Church Micro 11050…Lichfield Cathedral

This checkin to GC7B9HC Church Micro 11050...Lichfield Cathedral reflects a geocaching.com log entry. See more of Dan's cache logs.

TFTC. Answers already sent to CO, except the photo which is attached to this log!

Out for an early morning caching expedition because my hotel bed was uncomfortable so I woke up early and with a need to stretch and move. Delighted to find this wonderfully-placed virtual; thanks for sharing. Greetings from Oxfordshire!

Dan in froint of Lichfield Cathedral, waving

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Dan Q found GC93KP4 Lichfield TB Resort & Spa

This checkin to GC93KP4 Lichfield TB Resort & Spa reflects a geocaching.com log entry. See more of Dan's cache logs.

Spent a frankly embarrassing amount of time hunting in all the wrong places before spotting the obvious difference between this hotel and the other (non travel bug) ones nearby. Excellent container, FP awarded.

Greetings from Oxfordshire! I’m up for a show and to visit family and woke early this morning for a spot of caching before breakfast. I’d perhaps not have woken so early if my hotel were as nice as this one! (I may have to deploy something like this in my neck of the woods…)

Dan hunting for a geocache in Lichfield.

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Dan Q couldn’t find GC4KHZ4 One in a Million – Festival Gardens

This checkin to GC4KHZ4 One in a Million - Festival Gardens reflects a geocaching.com log entry. See more of Dan's cache logs.

No luck for me this morning. Based on recent logs and photos I suspect the object to which the hint relates was repaired recently and the cache muggled at the same time.

Higher/Lower Datepicker

I’ve written before about the trend in web development to take what the web gives you for free, throw it away, and then rebuild it in Javascript. The rebuilt version is invariably worse in many ways – less-accessible, higher-bandwidth, reduced features, more fragile, etc. – but it’s more convenient for developers. Personally, I try not to value developer convenience at the expense of user experience, but that’s an unpopular opinion lately.

Screenshot showing a hovered hyperlink to "Digital Forest" on a list of green hosting providers in France.
Here’s a perfect example I bumped into earlier this week, courtesy of The Green Web Foundation. This looks like a hyperlink… but if you open it in a new tab/window, you see a page (not even a 404 page!) with the text “It looks like nothing was found at this location.”

In the site shown in the screenshot above, the developer took something the web gave them for free (a hyperlink), threw it away (by making it a link-to-nowhere), and rebuilt its functionality with Javascript (without thinking about the fact that you can do more with hyperlinks than click them: you can click-and-drag them, you can bookmark them, you can share them, you can open them in new tabs etc.). Ugh.

Date pickers

Particularly egregious are the date pickers. Entering your date of birth on a web form ought to be pretty simple: gov.uk pretty much solved it based on user testing they did in 2013.

Here’s the short of it:

  • Something you can clearly type a numeric day, month and year into is best.
  • Three dropdowns are slightly worse, but at least if you use native HTML <select> elements keyboard users can still “type” to filter.
  • Everything else – including things that look like <select>s but are really funky React <div>s, is pretty terrible.
Calendar datepicker with slider-based timepicker and no text-based fallback.
Calendars can be great for choosing your holiday date range. But pressing “Prev” ~480 times to get to my month of birth isn’t good. Also: what’s with the time “sliders”? (Yes, I know I’ve implemented these myself, in the past, and I’m sorry.)

My fellow Automattician Enfys recently tweeted:

People designing webforms that require me to enter my birthdate:

I am begging you: just let me type it in.

Typing it in is 6-8 quick keystrokes. Trying to navigate a little calendar or spinny wheels back to the 1970s is time-consuming, frustrating and unnecessary.

They’re right. Those little spinny wheels are a pain in the arse if you’ve got to use one to go back 40+ years.

Date "spinner" currently showing 20 December 2012.
These things are okay (I guess) on mobile/touchscreen devices, though I’d still prefer the option to type in my date of birth. But send one to my desktop and I will curse your name.

Can we do worse?

If there’s one thing we learned from making the worst volume control in the world, the other year, it’s that you can always find a worse UI metaphor. So here’s my attempt at making a date of birth field that’s somehow even worse than “date spinners”:

My datepicker implements a game of “higher/lower”. Starting from bounds specified in the HTML code and a random guess, it narrows-down its guess as to what your date of birth is as you click the up or down buttons. If you make a mistake you can start over with the restart button.

Amazingly, this isn’t actually the worst datepicker into which I’ve entered my date of birth! It’s cognitively challenging compared to most, but it’s relatively fast at narrowing down the options from any starting point. Plus, I accidentally implemented some good features that make it better than plenty of the datepickers out there:

  • It’s progressively enhanced – if the Javascript doesn’t load, you can still enter your date of birth in a sensible way.
  • Because it leans on a <input type="date"> control, your browser takes responsibility for localising, so if you’re from one of those weird countries that prefers mm-dd-yyyy then that’s what you should see.
  • It’s moderately accessible, all things considered, and it could easily be improved further.

It turns out that even when you try to make something terrible, so long as you’re building on top of the solid principles the web gives you for free, you can accidentally end up with something not-so-bad. Who knew?

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Goose-Related Etymologies

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My favourite thing about geese… is the etymologies of all the phrases relating to geese. There’s so many, and they’re all amazing. I started reading about one, then – silly goose that I am – found another, and another, and another…

A Canada goose at a waterside accompanied by seven goslings. Photo by Brandon Montrone from Pexels.
Have a gander at this photo.

For example:

  • Barnacle geese are so-called because medieval Europeans believed that they grew out of a kind of barnacle called a goose barnacle, whose shell pattern… kinda, sorta looks like barnacle goose feathers? Barnacle geese breed on remote Arctic islands and so people never saw their chicks, which – coupled with the fact that migration wasn’t understood – lead to a crazy myth that lives on in the species name to this day. Incidentally, this strange belief led to these geese being classified as a fish for the purpose of fasting during Lent, and so permitted. (This from the time period that brought us the Vegetable Lamb of Tartary, of course. I’ve written about both previously.)
  • Gooseberries may have a similar etymology. Folks have tried to connect it to old Dutch or Germanic words, but inconclusively: given that they appear at the opposite end of the year to some of the migratory birds goose, the same kind of thinking that gave us “barnacle geese” could be seen as an explanation for gooseberries’ name, too. But really: nobody has a clue about this one. Fun fact: the French name for the fruit is groseille à maquereau, literally “mackerel currant”!
  • A gaggle is the collective noun for geese, seemingly derived from the sound they make. It’s also been used to describe groups of humans, especially if they’re gossiping (and disproportionately directed towards women). “Gaggle” is only correct when the geese are on the ground, by the way: the collective noun for a group of airborne geese is skein or plump depending on whether they’re in a delta shape or not, respectively. What a fascinating and confusing language we have!
  • John Stephen Farmer helps us with a variety of goose-related sexual slang though, because, well, that was his jam. He observes that a goose’s neck was a penis and gooseberries were testicles, goose-grease is vaginal juices. Related: did you ever hear the euphemism for where babies come from “under a gooseberry bush“? It makes a lot more sense when you realise that gooseberry bush was slang for pubic hair.
Face of a gosse, looking into the camera. Other geese can be seen swimming in the background.
Hey there, you big honker.
  • An actor whose performance wasn’t up to scratch might describe the experience of being goosed; that is – hissed at by the crowd. Alternatively, goosing can refer to a a pinch on the buttocks possibly in reference to geese pecking humans at about that same height.
  • If you have a gander at something you take a good look at it. Some have claimed that this is rhyming slang – “have a look” coming from “gander and duck” – but I don’t buy it. Firstly, why wouldn’t it be “goose and duck” (or “gander and drake“, which doesn’t rhyme with “look” at all). And fake, retroactively-described rhyming roots are very common: so-called mockney rhyming slang! I suspect it’s inspired by the way a goose cranes its neck to peer at something that interests it! (“Crane” as a verb is of course also a bird-inspired word!)
  • Goosebumps might appear on your skin when you’re cold or scared, and the name alludes to the appearance of plucked poultry. Many languages use geese, but some use chickens (e.g. French chair de poule, “chicken flesh”). Fun fact: Slavic languages often use anthills as the metaphor for goosebumps, such as Russian мурашки по коже (“anthill skin”). Recently, people talk of tapping into goosebumps if they’re using their fear as a motivator.
  • A tailor’s goose is a traditional kind of iron so-named for the shape of its handle.
  • The childrens game of duck duck goose is played by declaring somebody to be a “goose” and then running away before they catch you. Chasing – or at risk of being chased by! – geese is common in metaphors: if somebody wouldn’t say boo to a goose they’re timid. A wild goose chase (yet another of the many phrases for which we can possibly thank Shakespeare, although he probably only popularised this one) begins without consideration of where it might end up.
A Canada goose and young gosling swim together, side-by-side. Photo by Erick Todd from Pexels.
If humans tell children they were found under a gooseberry bush, where do geese tell their chicks they came from?
  • If those children are like their parents, you might observe that a wild goose never laid a tame egg: that traits are inherited and predetermined.
  • Until 1889, the area between Blackfriars and Tower Bridge in London – basically everything around Borough tube station up to the river – was considered to be outside the jurisdiction of both London and Surrey, and fell under the authority of the Bishop of Winchester. For a few hundred years it was the go-to place to find a prostitute South of the Thames, because the Bishop would license them to be able to trade there. These prostitutes were known as Winchester geese. As a result, to be bitten by a Winchester goose was to contract a venereal disease, and goosebumps became a slang term for the symptoms of some such diseases.
  • Perennial achillea ptarmica is known, among other names, as goose tongue, and I don’t know why. The shape of the plant isn’t particularly similar to that of a goose’s tongue, so I think it might instead relate to the effect of chewing the leaves, which release a spicy oil that might make your tongue feel “pecked”? Goose tongue can also refer to plantago maritima, whose dense rosettes do look a little like goose tongues, I guess. Honestly, I’ve no clue about this one.
  • If you’re sailing directly downwind, you might goose-wing your sails, putting the mainsail away from the wind and the jib towards it, for balance and to easily maintain your direction. Of course, a modern triangular-sailed boat usually goes faster broad reach (i.e. at an angle of about 45º to the wind) by enough that it’s faster to zig-zag downwind rather than go directly downwind, but I can see how one might sometimes want to try this anatidaetian maneuver.
Plaque with a picture of a goose running and text: "Cross Bones Graveyard. In medieval times this was an unconsecreated graveyard for prostitutes of 'Winchester Geese'. By the 18th century it had become a paupers burial ground, which closed in 1853. Here, local people have created a memorial shrine. The Outcast Dead R.I.P." A smiley face sticker has been attached to the plaque and ribbons and silk flowers are tied nearby.
I feel like the “Cross Bones Graveyard” ought to have been where pirates were buried, but prostitutes is pretty good too.

Geese make their way all over our vocabulary. If it’s snowing, the old woman is plucking her goose. If it’s fair to give two people the same thing (and especially if one might consider not doing so on account of their sex), you might say that what’s good for the goose is good for the gander,  which apparently used to use the word “sauce” instead of “good”. I’ve no idea where the idea of cooking someone’s goose comes from, nor why anybody thinks that a goose step march might look anything like the way a goose walks waddles.

With apologies to Beverley, whose appreciation of geese (my take, previously) is something else entirely but might well have got me thinking about this in the first instance.

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