Always The Critic

Fix alerts for Google calendars on Mac

I like to live life on the edge, and helping me to do that is my Mac's Calendar app with its predliction for silently discarding all alert settings for Google calendar entries. This stresses me out as I'm just waiting for the first time I embarassingly fail to turn up for something. Today, and frankly not for the first time, I set out on a serious Google hunt to find a resolution. I now have one that's just about tolerable.

It seems the basic problem is that when you modify a Google calendar entry via Calendar, it then immediately syncs back from Google and wipes out any alert that you just configured. But you didn't want to go to that meeting anyway, right?

I can't claim original credit for my solution, but I can endeavour to explain it very clearly and add a few extra tidbits. The trick/workaround is to configure Google Calendar itself, via its web UI, to have a default alert for all newly created events. Then it seems that you can modify the alert successfully from within Calendar, to a different number of minutes ahead. However you can't remove it, so you have to just live with alerts for everything. To me that's far preferable to none at all.

You can change the setting for Google Calendar as follows.

• Sign in to your Google calendar at https://www.google.com/calendar.
• Open the settings page by selecting "Settings" from the gear dropdown in the top right.
• Select the "Calendars" tab at the top.
• In the list of calendars (which probably only contains your one calendar) select "Reminders and notifications"
• In the "Event reminders" section at the top, select "Add a reminder"
• Select "Popup" and however many minutes you want, for the default reminder.
• Don't forget to click the Save button at the top left.

A bit of beer tasting

I made a pilgrimage to BEER:shop St Albans, just on the other side of town, to get some interesting beers. Well why not, and it even had the wife's blessing because she fancied some good beer. The shop's only been open for three weeks, but it's very smart and carries a carefully curated collection. Some of it is really rather pricey, and with those prices on stickers at the back of each bottle it was a slightly frustrating experience. I'd see something interesting, pick it up, confirm that it did indeed sound like a cracker, then turn it around to find it was £15. I could have three bottles of wine for the price of that bottle of beer! But in the end I settled on eight to take home.

And now, time to sample a couple of them. First up, an extremely local number from The private brewery of BoB which is located only about a hundred metres from the shop as it happens. BoB Sherunkel is 3.7%, described as a "delightfully dark mild". And it really is, with a roasted flavour that lingers on the palette, whilst being incredibly easy drinking. Very pleasant.

Next, Bob Slayah, from the same stable, and thought it would appear to be an entirely different beer (5.2%, "premium bitter") it had overtones of the same roasty flavour, so it followed on nicely.

And finally, The Wild Beer Co's Epic Saison, 5% and as crisp, zesty and spicy as the label suggested. Using exotic American hops, it is quite fruity, almost a bit soapy to Mrs C's tastes. I wouldn't go out of my way to have another one, but it was perfectly pleasant. I also forgot to photograph it post-pouring. Whoops.

 

Paint-proof paint refuses second coat

I recently got around to repainting the wooden cabin at the end of my garden and chose Cuprinol's Garden Shades in delightful Seagrass colour. I discovered something rather unexpected however, that others would be well advised to heed before they embark on a similar mission!

This paint is dead clever and develops a waxy surface in order to repel rainwater and protect your wood. Unfortunately, being a water-based paint, this means it may also repel your attempts to apply a second coat! As you can see in my picture above, it's like painting on glass and the new paint just beads up into globules as it can't stick to the previous coat.

It distressed me rather when I discovered this phenomenon and a call to Cuprinol followed as soon as I could look up their number. After a bit of a wait a very knowledgable young lady gave me the lowdown on what was going wrong. She recommended I rub the surface down with methylated spirits to break down that waxy layer and I'm glad to say that this did indeed do the trick, though it adds a whole lot of extra faff to the process.

I note that on the can it does say "allow 2-8 hours between coats" and with the benefit of hindsight and the explanation from Cuprinol, I see that this is presumably intended as a range with an upper bound. I had left it for a week, and this allowed that waxy surface to develop, so I should have recoated much sooner. However this text is decidely ambigious and can easily be read as a minimum only, stated as a range due to differing drying times according to conditions. It is especially likely that your average reader will interpret it so, as most paint cans provide just a minimum. Interestingly their website states it a bit differently: "Where a second coat is required, allow up to 8 hours in between coats." It still neglects to explain why this is, the importance of it, and what to do if you are unable to comply.

So be warned that the innocuous statement on the can is actually very important. Sadly this means you have to set aside enough time in one block to coat everything once, allow it to dry sufficiently then recoat. Otherwise you'll have to get the meths out. Either way this adds a major inconvenience and the cynic in me suspects that's why they're reluctant to explain it properly on the can. The nice lady on the phone did say that they get loads of phone calls about this exact problem and are considering how they can improve the instructions. I want to see a very clear explanation of what happens and why, in a big bold box that draws attention. It should also describe the meths workaround. To do anything less is to fail the customer.

FWIW, I'm now very pleased with the results and will use the product again. I would have been so much happier if I hadn't had to go through this saga, which involved holding on their expensive-from-a-mobile phone line for ages, and a major expedition to find somewhere with meths in stock.

Equilibrium coding challenge - a Scala solution

Inspired by a random tweet about their added Scala support, I tried out the Codility sample test. I rather liked my solution and I think it's a perfect example of some of the niceties of Scala, in a small way, so here it is:

def solution(a: Array[Int]): Int = {
    // Partial sums are Longs to avoid Int overflow.
    val sums = a.scanLeft(0L)(_ + _).tail

    def equilibrium(index: Int) = leftSum(index) == rightSum(index)
    def leftSum(index: Int) = if (index == 0) 0 else sums(index - 1)
    def rightSum(index: Int) = sums.last - sums(index)

    (0 until a.length) find (equilibrium(_)) getOrElse(-1)
}

The use of scanLeft to build up all the partial sums is particularly handy. Having done that it's very easy to run through all the indexes until we find one that satisfies us. Note that the find method returns an Option[A] so we use getOrElse to return -1 if no solution was found (as per the requirements).

Beer review: Ciney Brune

This Belgian number really surprised me. It has a hint of lambic sourness, that makes it fresh and interesting and for me separates it from most other standard brunes. It seems that many people don't rate it, but I find it to be an interesting diversion, if only for its subtle sweet and sour novelty. I don't think I'd have more than one of an evening though - it's not that great overall.

Beer review: Leffe Ruby

This beer is a fruity revelation! At least if you like that sort of thing. Officially described as being flavoured with red fruits, with a hint of spice and wood, even a touch of sourness, the result is very impressive. Like most fruity beers it's not strong at 5% but it really does taste wonderful. To me the main fruit flavour is raspberry with maybe a drop of cherry.

I will be seeking out more of this stuff, and if I don't my wife may not forgive me for drinking most of this one.

Beer review: Affligem Blonde

When I left a job recently, my Belgian colleagues presented me with a basket filled with a vast and varied array of beers. My arms having recovered from carrying it home, it's now time to sample these fine wares.

First up Affligem Blonde, at 6.8% a relative lightweight in the Belgian canon, but I was impressed by the overall result. A bit like Leffe, but more subtle and probably less cloying if you were to drain a few. It's really smooth and well-balanced, just edging only slightly into the treacly tendencies of classic Belgian brews, but definitely going beyond "straightforward lager". I really liked it - it's a great beer to start an evening of lowland delicacies or for general consumption if you're not feeling like the heavy stuff.

Expect more over the coming weeks, and expect them to be mostly in entirely the wong glasses, as above.

Windows 8 = CQRS

Allow me to wax philosphical for a moment with an observation about where computers and their operating systems are heading.

In the world of software development CQRS = Command Query Responsibility Segregation, which in its simplest sense recognises that it's sometimes better to use a different mechanism for reading data than it is for writing it. See Martin Fowler's exposition of the concept if you want to know more, but this post isn't actually about software development at all!

I reckon that we're at a critical juncture in the evolution of personal computing devices and that the CQRS principle is necessarily coming to the fore to save the human race.

Tablet computers are taking the world by storm, in case you hadn't noticed. Apple could barely make enough iPad Minis for me to be able to get my wife one for Xmas, though I did manage it at the very last minute, and shortly thereafter bagged one for myself too. Frankly it's bloody brilliant, but I use it predominantly for consuming rather than creating and I'm far from alone. This is partly because the human populace is inexorably dumbing down towards being fat blobs with brains wired directly into the 'net, consuming inane banter, amusing picture of cats and the latest celebrity news, 140 characters at a time. But that aside, it's just not very pleasant to write large quantities of text, manipulate images or perform other expansive creative works by prodding a tiny screen. Or even a big screen.

To write software, construct lengthy blog posts (ahem), edit movies, sequence the human genome or design great buildings requires a proper computer! On that basis I posit that there will always be a place for desktops and laptops, or indeed whatever replaces them but which necessarily has a non-trivial input mechanism. I genuinely worry that the market for serious computers will be increasingly neglected by the manufacturers, refocussing as they are on the mass consumer market, inevitably leading to the downfall of humankind. Perhaps I exaggerate - at least I hope so.

Now I've never used Windows 8, indeed I shudder at having to use Windows 7 on a daily basis at work, but I understand it represents something of a chimera. It is best known for its shiny, touchy, slidey 'Metro' UI, beckoning your greasy fingers to caress its tiles. However it also allows you to fall back into the more staid world of traditional Windows where presumably you can get some proper work done, as long as you have a keyboard and a pointing device other than your finger. I understand critics are conflicted about this hybrid approach, but it's CQRS writ large and may therefore be the way forwards. One way or another, at least some people will need to create great works. I do hope to be one of them, and to have the equipment to be able to do it.

Making a brick path in my garden

I have a fair amount of lawn in my garden, which is looking pretty ropey right now, but I'm working on it! However I'm intending to convert a lot of it to more intriguing beds and paths. This project details one little part of that grand plan. In the picture above, I've removed the turf from a corner, which originally had just a narrow bed at the back against the trellis.

My plan was to put a curving brick path through this new area, leaving an eye-shaped island that will probably host a small tree and other planting high enough and rumbustious enough to make the path a little voyage of discovery. A very little voyage, but adding much-needed intrigue.

I started by using the garden hose to experiment with the shape of the path, using some bricks to get the width right. What a beautiful shape!

Those bricks, and indeed all the bricks I will use, are from the rear chimney on the house, which was removed in a recent loft conversion (the chimney, not the house). They are a mix of old handmade red clay bricks and nasty moulded modern things, but they have some character, including sooty marks, and I think mixed up they're going to look the part.

I'm not sure how well they will survive the harsh winters that seem to be the new normal. I strongly suspect they will suffer from frost damage and it will be interesting to find out whether it's the old or new that perform better. I have plenty left to repair the damage. For the record, ideally you'd use engineering bricks, but I don't have any and I feel it would lack the charm of a crumbling old brick path.

Having established the basic shape and scored a mark in the soil with the edge of a spade along the hosepipe, I dug it out about a brick deep plus a couple of centimetres for the sand. I also added 5cm or so on either side to give room for manoeuvre.

Theoretically I should use pegs in the ground, string and spirit levels to establish a perfectly level, flat path, but that's just not my style, and the two ends are not at the same level anyway. I used a couple of bits of straight wood and my eye to make sure that the soil bed was basically level with no major local bumps or hollows. Again I invoke 'rustic' as an excuse for my slapdashery.

Do you know why sharp sand is called sharp sand? Because the individual grains are all knobbly and 'sharp', compared to non-sharp sand which has smooth, rounded grains. This helps them to lock together and form a firm base. I've used four bags of sharp sand and with the aid of a rake and a piece of wood the width of the path dragged over it, I've turned it into a smooth base ready for my bricks. I spent quite a while trying to get this right, as it will be reflected in the final result.

By the way, I bought six bags of sand from Wickes for the grand total of £10.86, and that was my entire spend on this project. The rest is bricks and tools I already had, and my own labour.

I figured it was best to lay one whole run the length of the path, to establish and tweak the basic curve. Then of course the subsequent runs are a bit longer each time around the curve, so we need half-bricks here and there to keep a good pattern going.

I used a bolster chisel and club hammer to cut the bricks by hand, which takes a bit of technique, a certain amount of practise and a lot of patience, especially when it's raining and you can't see through your goggles (you don't want brick chips in your eye). I think most people would find this the most challenging part of the project if they haven't done it before. You can get machines to do it nicely and with no effort on your part, which would be worthwhile if doing anything much bigger. A straight path would only require half-bricks at the ends of course.

Once I'd got all the bricks down it looked pretty good, but only then did I fork over the beds either side, being very careful not to disturb my new path. I had been agonising over whether to do that first or last. I feared that if I did it first I might loosen the firm bed for my path, compacted nicely as it was under the old lawn. Also, it would have made working around the path and seeing the edges a lot harder, so I'm glad I did it this way around.

Finally, I did that digging of the compacted soil, and packed it up to the edge of my bricks, ready to receive plants. Then I brushed more sharp sand into all of the cracks to finish off the path itself. That took a surprisingly long time and a few goes as the bricks settled and new holes opened up. Using very dry sand really helps it to fall down those cracks so I dried mine out in the sun before using it.

I'm very pleased with the result, but time will tell whether it's really any good. Next project is the planting either side of it.

Beer review: Gordon Finest Gold

 

I do love a Belgian beer. I don't know how they do it, but their strong, sweet creations are the beery equivalent of comfort food to me. But this is a strange creature that I review today.

Bought in the Carrefour Express in Brussels Midi station, it appears to be a slice of Scottishness amid the Belgian fancies, certainly in terms of the branding. But it's 10% by volume and is quite clearly a deliciously sticky Belgian tipple exactly as I would expect, and decidedly un-Scottish. I suppose Barley wine may be the connection. It's described on the bottle as "strong blond and mellow beer" and I can't argue with that.

Is this just a piece of branding silliness, selling a bit of tartan-clad och-aye-the-noo to the rest of the world, who do appear to love that sort of thing? Possibly. But I actually liked it so much that I'd buy it again.

For what it's worth a little delve into its provenance takes us to anthonymartin.com where we find that an English brewer setled in Belgium and started producing beers in 1909 and that this particular brew has been around since 1990 and they own the TImmermans brewery known for Gueuze Lambics.