Wow, definitely had to go off the beaten track for this one. I took a route up and tightly alongside the fence, and only after getting to the GZ did I discover the easier way. Still a tough thing to find with the foliage so verdant. TFTC and thanks
for the walk and the view, too!
From the top of the folly I can just make out my hotel in the distance (see photo)! Better go get some breakfast!
Found after a brief search, but not in the (pretty obvious) hint location. Looks like it had been found by muggles and just “thrown” back. Log was blank. SL, TFTC. Great view!
Had to give up on this one. 😢
Between a great fix, a clear clue, and CO maintenance only last week I figured this was a sure thing. But somehow it wasn’t to be, no
matter how many nettle stings I endured in the hunt.
Woke earlier than my friends who’d been to a wedding last night, and used that as an excuse for a quick walk up the hill. Easy find: second place I looked! TFTC. Greetings from Oxfordshire!
Having nabbed one of the coveted parking spaces to run an errand in Summertown, I nipped over here to find this cache, too. Coordinates were spot on but I couldn’t see the cache, so I
took the advice of a previous log and plunged my hand into what I thought was a likely hiding place and came out with the cache in hand. TFTC.
Ruth wrote an excellent post this month entitled Wonder Syndrome.
It attempts to reframe imposter syndrome (which is strongly, perhaps disproportionately, present in tech fields) as a
positive indicator that there’s still more to learn:
Being aware of the boundaries of our knowledge doesn’t make us imposters, it makes us explorers. I’m going to start calling mine “Wonder Syndrome”, and allowing myself to be awed by
how much I still have to learn, and then focusing in and carrying on with what I’m doing because although I may not reach the stars, I’ve come a long way up the mountain. I can learn
these things, I can solve these problems, and I will.
I don’t recall exactly what I’m advising a fellow Three Rings developer to do, here, but I don’t think he’s happy about it.
I just spent a week at a Three Rings DCamp (a “hackathon”, kinda), and for the umpteenth time had the experience of feeling like
everybody thinks I know everything, while on the inside I still feel like I’m still guessing a third of the time (and on StackOverflow for another third!).
The same’s true at work: people ask me questions about things that I suppose, objectively, are my “specialist subjects” – web standards, application security, progressive enhancement,
VAT for some reason – and even where I’m able to help, I often get that nagging feeling like
there must be somebody better than me they could have gone to?
You’ve probably seen diagrams like this before. After all: I’m not smart or talented enough to invent anything like this and I don’t know why you’d listen to anything I have to say on
the subject anyway. 😂
You might assume that I love Ruth’s post principally because it plays to my vanity. The post describes two kinds of knowledgeable developers, who are differentiated primarily by their
attitude to learning. One is satisfied with the niche they’ve carved out for themselves and the status that comes with it and are content to rest on their laurels; the other is driven
to keep pushing and learning more and always hungry for the next opportunity to grow. And the latter category… Ruth’s named after me.
Wait, what if I’m not‽ Have I been faking it this entire blog post?
Bnd while I love the post, my gut feeling to being named after such an ideal actually makes me slightly uncomfortable. The specific sentence that gets me is (emphasis mine):
Dans have no interest in being better than other people, they just want to know more than they did yesterday.
I wish that was me, but I’m actually moderately-strongly motivated by a desire to feel like I’m the smartest person in the room! I’m getting this urge under control (I’m pretty
sure I was intolerable as a child and have been improving by instalments since then!). Firstly, because it’s an antisocial pattern to foster, but also because it limits my ability to
learn new things to have to go through the awkward, mistake-filled “I’m a complete amateur at this!” phase. But even as I work on this I still get that niggling urge, more often than
I’d like, to “show off”.
Of course, it could well be that what I’m doing right now is catastrophising. I’m taking a nice thing somebody’s said about me, picking the one part of it that I find hardest to feel
represents me, and deciding that I must be a fraud. Soo… imposter syndrome, I guess. Damn.
Or to put it a better way: Wonder Syndrome. I guess this is another area for self-improvement.
(I’m definitely adopting Wonder Syndrome into my vocabulary, as an exercise in mitigating imposter syndrome. If you’ve not read Ruth’s post in full, you should go and do that next.)
This cache is closest to where we’re staying, and was the third (and final, because our littlest party member had had enough for now) of our expedition. Nice container and a lovely
spot. TFTC.
Continuing our reverse-order explore of some of these caches closest to our accommodation for the week. Little 5-year-old John found this one and came proudly out from its hiding place
with it in hand. TFTC.
Some fellow volunteers from a nonprofit I help run and I are staying at nearby Myddelton Lodge and came out to find a couple of local caches on our
lunch break. This was the first, and my new-to-geocaching colleague Paul was first to put his hands on the cache. Nice one. TFTC.
I’m staying not far outside Ilkley this week doing voluntary work, and needed to come down into town to pick up a teammate from the station (and charge the batteries on the car!). Took
the opportunity while waiting for the latter to come find this cache. SL, TFTC!
Today I’m driving most of the way up the M1, and I’ve parked nearby mid-journey to recharge: both the car’s battery and mine, with some lunch and a walk around the local geocaches.
As I climbed the hill to this virtual I initially thought I might have trouble seeing the obelisk through the dense foliage, but I was quickly proven wrong as it rose up and above the
trees. Blackbirds jostled for space atop it: apparently the status of being “king of the castle” counts for something, even though it’s clearly impossible for them to nest up there!
Stopped nearby to charge the car during a long journey up the M1, and came to find a couple of local caches while I waited. This one was a quick and easy find, but to retrieve it I
first needed to manufacture an appropriately-shaped tool! Fortunately a nearby tree had conveniently dropped something that could be made to serve. TFTC, SL.