Many of you probably don't remember the first time you got a printer. I do. Of course, this was before I found out what the internet was, but the ability to make copies of things, or even print out stuff on demand? It was like magic.
I'm pretty sure I did more damage to the rainforests of the world with my first printer than I have throughout the rest of my life. Heck, I even printed and bound a "book" of sorts, my first indie story. I may yet go back to it and make a better, novel-length version.
Well, the same sort of thing is happening with the 3D printer. We're going bonkers. We want to print all the things. And, of course, one of the first things we tried to make was toys.
[Shown here: A modular, printed toy sitting in-between Genesh and Buddha]
(Yes, I have graven idols. Buddha is to remind me to keep my inner calm and Genesh reminds me to keep battling my obstacles. I also have a murlock and a creeper on my monitor, but I have those for whimsy)
Meet Batterpillat. Part bat, part catterpillar, and part cat. She's going to be my little toy companion on my tour of the states.
Do take note, dear readers, that if you print a modular toy - wait for it to cool and set before you start messing with it. My little darlings and I have already discovered this through the simple expedient of playing with this toy and breaking it in short order.
We can print more, but Batterpillat is special because she is my first print that actually firkin worked. [Note: also make absolutely certain that one's print platform is level]
We've since printed some gear things to tweak the platform with, a little blocky robot, and a mysterious gizmo with a screw thread.
I want to print a gramophone horn for my iPhone, but the download I got seems to be mega-weird. I can't grok how to make certain its measurements or orientation are correct before printing.
I need Beloved to walk me through the assorted processes a few times before I can handle printing anything on my own.
Meanwhile - my asthma is clearing up! Huzzah! I still have a little stiffness, but it's more annoying than life-threatening. Saline is the solution. And my usual juice&ginger-ale helps a great deal, too. Panicking about things is not my friend, of late, so I've taken to muttering, "I trust in providence" to myself. Everything is almost together and that's good. I have plan B's and that's also good.
I pissed off MeMum by getting back to her about an email too late... eh. Not so good, but still salvageable. And I'm about to negotiate with the nice people at the corset place. There is something wrong with their "no swapsies" policy. This is a garment that has never been next to flesh, anyone looking at it would swear that it's brand new.
And yet - they won't do exchanges. Why?