Showing posts with label math. Show all posts
Showing posts with label math. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 12, 2023

Day 7 in England: Back and Forth by Boat to Greenwich

The teenager woke up fever-free and without a sore throat on this morning, but we decided to have her kick back and hang around the AirBnb for the day just in case. So it was just three intrepid adventurers who attempted to figure out how to get ourselves back and forth to Greenwich by boat. It went... not well.

Here's our day's agenda:

  • Thames Clipper to Greenwich
  • Royal Observatory
  • Greenwich Market
  • National Maritime Museum
  • Greenwich Foot Tunnel
  • Thames Clipper to Battersea Park
In theory, the Thames Clipper Uber Boat is the coolest idea ever. You buy a ticket, hop on the boat, and travel the Thames to your destination. I. Was. STOKED!!!

In actuality, the routes are completely incomprehensible to ascertain, the boats are mostly unlabeled so you can't tell if you're getting on the correct one without asking, and even when we asked, the employees couldn't seem to actually tell us how to actually get on the correct boat for the correct route. It was absolutely miserable. I could have literally walked to and from Greenwich in the time it took us to get to and from Greenwich on this day. 

So what I thought you were supposed to do was check this route map to see what color route you're supposed to take--

--and then cross-reference it with the timetable to see when your boat will arrive:


We wanted to go from Battersea Power Station to Greenwich, so we wanted an RB1, but what I think we ended up getting on was an RB6? Because it dumped all of us off at the Canary Wharf stop and went back the way it came from. So then we had to figure out 1) what our Oyster cards had been charged for that trip, since we'd put money on them specifically for this, 2) if we had enough money on the Oyster cards to continue the trip with a second ticket, because there wasn't a place to top up Oyster cards at the pier, and 3) what freaking boat were we actually supposed to take to finish getting to Greenwich.

If only any, you know, EMPLOYEES had been around to offer assistance! 

We thought about bailing and just riding the Tube out to Greenwich, but damn it, I wanted my boat ride, so we turned to Plan B, generally known as Throw Money at the Problem. Matt got us new paper tickets from the ticket machine, which was a waste of money if our Oyster card tickets were still good, but the advantage was that they at least said which pier we were going to in case we got thrown off the boat early again, and we got back in line to wait for the next random boat that came by going in the proper direction. 

At least the trip was pretty (although--another disappointment--all the seats have a dirty window in between you and the pretty things)!



Fortunately, I don't think there was any way to screw up going east from Canary Wharf to Greenwich (stay tuned for the evening, when we'll screw up our westward trip!), so when we FINALLY got back on a freaking boat, that boat at least took us straight to freaking Greenwich.

From there, it's just a 15-minute walk straight uphill to the Royal Observatory!

There was a lot of stuff that I wanted to see here, but first, we had to see the Main Attraction:


It's the Prime Meridian!


Check me out encompassing ALL the hemispheres!


The rest of the day will consist solely of me finding Prime Meridian markers and insisting on having my photo taken with them.

I thought the historical meridian markers were also interesting. There were several!


Apparently, astronomers spent quite some time dithering about whether the meridian should be here, or perhaps over here five feet to the right, or maybe just scooted over another couple of feet right here. It's like moving a coffee table, only you have to remake all your plaques and inform the entire world that you changed your mind.

I hadn't come to see them, specifically, but I loved the exhibits that showed examples from the history of astronomy. Here are some children's lacing cards from the 1820s, with the lacing holes being the locations of the stars that make up the constellation:


This globe is really cool, too, because the constellations show up as shadows on the wall behind it:


There are also artifacts here from the interesting history of timekeeping and measurement of all kinds. Here's the Time Ball, which still falls exactly at 1:00 pm daily so that ships on the Thames, households across the river, and anyone who happens to be looking in the right direction at the right time can synchronize their clocks:


And yes (because I looked it up), the New Year's Eve ball drop in Times Square DOES trace its history back to this very ball.


The Royal Observatory is on a hill, so check it out--you really can see it from a LONG WAY! Probably not during the heyday of the Industrial Revolution and its coal smog, though...


Here's the original entrance, with all the standardized measurements on display for the general public to reference at any time. The clock is especially important, because it reflected the real, actual time from the official timekeeper inside the observatory (there's a replica in the gift shop that I SUPER wanted, but even before I realized that my entire carry-on was going to be full of rocks, I knew I wasn't going to have room in it for a giant analogue clock...):


Oh, look! I found another Prime Meridian marker!


Once upon a time, Matt and I both read and were, for a pretty hot minute, obsessed with Longitude. So when we came upon an entire gallery devoted to chronicling the development of the ability to calculate longitude on ocean voyages, we both went SQUEEEEEE!!!!!

This below work was a star catalogue meant to define positions and orbits so exactly that ships could use it to calculate longitude... if only their ships were sitting on a perfectly flat ocean during a perfectly clear night, of course. It's got a super dishy backstory, though! John Flamsteed, the first Astronomer Royal, spent literal decades on his observations, and flat-out refused to publish them until he'd spent further decades refining and correcting. So Isaac Newton and Edmund Halley--as in, THE Isaac Newton and THE Edmund Halley--sneaked into his workplace, stole his documents, and published a pirated version. So then Flamsteed went around and picked up all the pirated copies he could find and destroyed them. This edition is the official one, published posthumously because that was the only way he'd stop messing with it:


Here's one of the timepieces made on the path to an accurate calculation of longitude. It's got dueling pendulums to hopefully counteract ship movement, and a variety of metals to hopefully counteract temperature changes:


It didn't work great.

Here's the real winner!


This watch keeps perfectly accurate time no matter how much it moves, what the temperature is, what the humidity is, or how much salt gets on it. Combine that with an accurate astronomical chart, and you'll never be lost again!

This exhibit below inspired me and Matt to explain to our college kid all about the good old days, when could call Time and Temperature on your landline. 


The teenager thought that this was absurd, and that calling to hear the movie listings and to request songs on the radio sounded equally absurd. But now we know why BBC Radio kept beeping at us every hour!

Found another Prime Meridian marker!


Even though Borough Market had been so crowded we all thought we were going to die it had also been really cool, so after watching the 1:00 Time Ball drop we left the Royal Observatory and walked over to check out Greenwich Market:


I swear to god I could take these two to the pits of hell and they would manage to find a churro stand:


I think the teenager who we'd left at the AirBnb would have liked Greenwich Market a lot, but just between us I'd rather have stayed at the museum and looked at stuff. 

After lunch, we walked over to the National Maritime Museum, where I had several things I wanted to see.

But first, the toddler playground!

They're deliberately ignoring the sign that says that only small children should ride the boats, and I'm pretending I don't know them.

There were so many exhibits that I wanted to see that we ended up just wandering, directionless, through the galleries. Fortunately, we happened upon all of my must-see sites!

This double hull outrigger canoe reminded me of Moana.

It's a real Marshall Islands stick chart!!! We learned about these at the very beginning of my kid's AP Human Geography study, so it was fun to see one in person.

The Atlantic Worlds gallery had an exhibit on Africa that felt kind of sketchy:


I mean, I guess they're not factually incorrect, but it feels very... dispassionate, I guess? Maybe that's my perspective as an American, where we're literally still having to tell people that Black lives literally matter, but I feel like the lede of this intro should have been something like "Enslaving people and trafficking them across the Atlantic, raping, torturing, and murdering them along the way and at their destinations, was all very bad, and we shouldn't have done that."

The exhibit did have a lot of artifacts from the history of African enslavement that I'd never seen before, but they also felt dispassionately presented and I didn't feel comfortable taking pictures. Like, this label shows the most emotion, and even it sounds like they're describing something from another planet:


I did send my teenager this pic of a guillotine used to execute 50+ royalists on a West Indian island, though, because eat the rich:


My obsessive reading of the Aubrey/Maturin novels have given me a taste for the Napoleonic War-era Royal Navy, so I was very stoked when our wanderings finally led us to the gallery I was most excited to see: Nelson, Navy, Nation! I outlasted even my poor college student in this gallery, as not only did I have to look at every single artifact and read its label twice, but then I had to go back and see my favorites a third time, then find something else I hadn't looked at closely enough, and then take another set of photos in case my first three sets hadn't turned out correctly:


Should I get desperately into model shipbuilding? I kind of think I should!


This is the first letter Nelson wrote with his left hand after having his right arm amputated:


Sooo... I know it's a kind of running joke in the Aubrey/Maturin novels, but I did not realize how very, very, very much everyone in England reveres Lord Nelson? They are REALLY into him! It made me realize that I am missing a lot of context for the novels, and a lot of references and imagery is likely passing right over my head. Like, now I think O'Brien is purposefully putting in similarities between Aubrey and Nelson, right?

Anyway, here's the coat Nelson was wearing when he was fatally wounded. You can see the bullet hole there at his left shoulder:


And here are the underthings he was wearing when he died. All that blood on his stockings belongs to a shipmate, though--he just fell in it:


In the same gallery, here's an unrelated photo of sailors shooting walruses. It was so fun to be in the Navy!


I'm sorry to say that I DID have to be dragged out of that gallery at closing time...

I'd sort of wanted to tour the Cutty Sark, but the ridiculous amount of time it took us to make our way all of the six miles to Greenwich that morning meant that I couldn't work it in, alas. Here it is from the outside, at least!


We were pretty footsore by this time, and we probably could have headed back to my kid and my AirBnb, but I'd seen this place on Tiktok--


--and I could not sleep easy at night until we'd experienced it for ourselves.

So we did!



On the other side of the tunnel, you get a lovely view back to where you came from:


Look VERY closely and you can even see the red ball at the Royal Observatory!

By the time we'd walked back through the tunnel we were EXHAUSTED, which was just the awesomest time to figure out how to get back on my new personal very least favorite mode of transportation ever, the fucking Thames Clipper Uber Boat OMG. If I'd had a brain cell left in my head I would have found a Tube station instead.

Determined that this time we were NOT going to fuck this up, Matt found an actual human to buy our return tickets from, and this human told us which boat to get on. So we got in line for that boat. And then that boat reached capacity, so we all had to walk back up the gangway and get in another line for the next boat... which was not set to arrive for forty freaking minutes. We should have tried to return our boat tickets and found the Tube station. But instead we waited in line, and when an employee came by Matt showed her our tickets, asked her if the next boat was the correct boat for our tickets, and she said it was.

So finally, FINALLY the next boat comes and we all get on it. We get to about here--


--and then the boat stops at Canary FUCKING Wharf AGAIN, dumps us all out AGAIN, and turns around AGAIN, because it was not the right boat.

So, y'all, I feel like a few times on this trip, some random employee deliberately gave us the wrong information, and I feel like they did this because they did not want to have to tell us bad news. Is this a British thing, or an us thing?

At least there were a ton of tourists on this boat, and we were all irritated and tired and confused, so I wasn't the only one not happy when we all got dumped off. There were a LOT of people griping, but the guy emptying the boat kept saying, "The next boat will be here in just a few minutes! Just wait for the next boat; it will be here in a few minutes!"

By "few", he meant forty.

When the next boat finally came, the guy letting us on was bemusedly very patient with me when I stopped the entire line to be all, "Does this boat go to Battersea? This very boat? I'm on the boat that will take me to Battersea?"

And hallelujah, it did!

Fine, it was worth it to be able to go UNDER the Tower Bridge, even if my view of it was through a dirty window.


...and then after all that, and then walking to our bus stop, to get the bus that would let us out a block from our AirBnb, the bus never came. It kept saying it was coming on Google Maps, then it would say it was delayed, then that bus would disappear and Google Maps would start saying the next bus would be here in five minutes, then it would say it was delayed, and so on and so on. We played that out for about 30 minutes before I was finally like, "OMG guys I think we're going to have to walk."

Well, we HAD been living just a few blocks from Battersea Park all week without having stepped into it once, so a mile walk straight through the middle was a least a good chance to take it all in...

Monday, January 30, 2023

Celebrate the 100th Day of the Year with Me

Every year, the teenagers and I volunteer with the Children's Museum of Indianapolis' 100 Days of School celebration. Area schools bring their kindergartners and first graders to the museum, and in between visiting the exhibits, the volunteers help the kids do fun activities relating to the number 100.

This year, my teenager and I had hoped to be assigned to the 100-bean maraca station again, but I actually loved the station we ended up at even more!

When kids came to our station, we helped them measure their height and their arm span, and helped them record the information in inches and centimeters:


If the kids had a little extra time because they were waiting on a few kids to finish up, I'd sometimes also have them stand on their tiptoes and then measure their height so we could compare how much taller they were on tiptoes (usually something like three inches!), or we'd see how long they could step or how high they could reach, etc. There's a lot you can do with a horizontal ruler and a vertical ruler!

It's always fun to me to see the range of kids we encounter, and the differences and similarities--we run through something like 250 kids in two hours, so those differences and similarities are really noticeable! Most of the kids, for instance, were around 143-147 centimeters tall, and their arm spans were always a little shorter. BUT they were all wearing shoes, so I told them that if they hadn't been, their arm span would be the same as their height! It was especially fun for kids to measure themselves against the horizontal ruler and then step back to visualize their arm span, so now I'm on a whole kick about how early ed classrooms ought to have those rulers set out the same way that most of them probably have height charts, so kids can visualize lengths in two planes. 

Many of the kids could not write numbers bigger than 100, but many could, and nearly all could write the numbers below 100. Several kids did a cute thing in which if I said, for instance, that they were 145 centimeters tall, they would write "100 45" on the line. I'd then show them what it looked like to combine it into 145, but I thought their solution was so clever, especially coming from different kids from different schools!

The 100th Day of School wasn't a thing when Matt or I were in school, so it wasn't on my radar when the kids were little enough to have fun with it, and I'm actually really sad about that, because we LOVED random little holidays and celebrations like that, and it would have been as super cute as our yearly celebration of Pi Day and everyone's half birthdays and May the Fourth. The celebration is a fun excuse for kids not just to practice the one-to-one correspondence of counting and the fine-motor skills of writing the numbers, but also to build context and meaning for the concept of 100, and explore the way that larger numbers work.

It turns out that this year, the 100th day of the year is Monday, April 10, which is quite a respectable homeschool day to celebrate a holiday! Here are some activities that I think would be fun--and educational!--to do with younger kids to celebrate the 100th day of the year:

paper chain. We made SO MANY paper chains when the kids were younger! Syd, especially was all in on paper chains, and we used them a lot to count down to various big events. Here's the paper chain birthday countdown that we made in anticipation of her fourth birthday, including the discovery that tearing a link off of a paper chain? OMG, such horror. Such despair.


That's why I actually think a paper chain counting UP to the 100th day of the year would be so great. Every day you don't tear a link off--you ADD one!!! Much less distressing to those tender, tiny hearts. 

For bonus points, make these laminated index cards with the numbers and number words on them for kids to match, trace, and add to their collection each day.


hundred grid fraction art. This reminds me a little of the mathematical map coloring that the kids loved just a few years ago! Kids color a pixel design onto a hundred grid, then can play with rearranging the colors and recording the fractional or decimal representation of each color.

roll to a hundred (or roll to zero). This is a fast-paced game that both of my kids loved long after they'd mastered their numbers, addition, and subtraction to 100. And it incorporates coloring, which is ALSO super fun (and utilizes those fine-motor skills, ahem):


This would make a fun "party game" for the hundredth day of the year, and you could even possibly convince a kid to fill out a blank 100 grid in preparation.


build with 100 things. This works well if you've got sets of more than 100 of various building toys, like LEGOs or blocks, but it would also probably be even more fun and creative if you chose seemingly random things. Can you build something or create a design using 100 pennies? Can you build a structure using 100 books? Who can build the biggest pyramid out of 100 rocks? Tiny little things in bulk also make fabulous math manipulatives, so it wouldn't be a terrible idea to splash out and buy your kid a 100-set of something small and cute as a 100th Day of the Year gift.

write a googol. That time that we read a book about googols, and then I asked each of my small children to write one, turned into a bit of a wacky adventure.

I scrolled Pinterest to look at other ideas, and while a lot of projects made me cringe or looked super corny, there was also tons of non-cringe, non-corny ideas to build a kid's numeracy and inspire them to love larger numbers and help them feel festive and celebratory. Many of the printables displayed would also work well for us homeschoolers to celebrate the 100th day of the year. I know that *I*, for one, will be coloring and wearing a giant cardboard 100-shaped hat on April 10!

Monday, April 19, 2021

Prints and Patterns Rainbow Fibonacci Placemats for Pumpkin+Bear

 

Because you know I can't leave well enough alone, nor make one single iteration of a project when fourteen different iterations would be more obsessive.

I LOVE my solid color rainbow Fibonacci placemats, and use them every day. But I couldn't get the idea out of my head of the same placemat done in rainbow prints and patterns, or rather, multiples of the same placemat, all with a different combination of prints and patterns.

It satisfies my love of chaos without nearly as much assault on the eyeballs as usually occurs when I get hold of more than two colors at the same time. It also pings that spot in my brain that's obsessed with mathematical patterns, now that the kids are both so busy studying for end-of-year exams that they've got little time to do weird and involved math projects with me.

I LOVE how these placemats look!



I love them in combination with each other--


--and in combination with my solid color rainbow Fibonacci placemats:


Spots likes them, too, so much so that she even helped me with my photo shoot!


These made-to-order prints and patterns rainbow Fibonacci placemats are now listed in my Pumpkin+Bear etsy shop. You order them, and I'll sew them up for you with your very own, unique combination of rainbow prints and patterns!


I think I'm going to make a rainbow Fibonacci quilt next!