ARCTIC FOOD EQUIPMENT : ARCTIC FOOD

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Arctic Food Equipment


arctic food equipment
    equipment
  • A tool is a device that can be used to produce or achieve something, but that is not consumed in the process. Colloquially a tool can also be a procedure or process used for a specific purpose.
  • The process of supplying someone or something with such necessary items
  • an instrumentality needed for an undertaking or to perform a service
  • The act of equipping, or the state of being equipped, as for a voyage or expedition; Whatever is used in equipping; necessaries for an expedition or voyage; the collective designation for the articles comprising an outfit; equipage; as, a railroad equipment (locomotives, cars, etc.
  • Mental resources
  • The necessary items for a particular purpose
    arctic
  • Designed for use in such regions
  • extremely cold; "an arctic climate"; "a frigid day"; "gelid waters of the North Atlantic"; "glacial winds"; "icy hands"; "polar weather"
  • Of or relating to the regions around the North Pole
  • (of animals or plants) Living or growing in such regions
  • the regions to the north of the Arctic Circle centered on the North Pole
  • a waterproof overshoe that protects shoes from water or snow
    food
  • any substance that can be metabolized by an animal to give energy and build tissue
  • anything that provides mental stimulus for thinking
  • Any nutritious substance that people or animals eat or drink, or that plants absorb, in order to maintain life and growth
  • any solid substance (as opposed to liquid) that is used as a source of nourishment; "food and drink"

30 Winter outing (Part 3)
30 Winter outing (Part 3)
After I got home, I checked the mail room and, as expected, two large boxes were waiting for me. One was for my mom, a food processor thingamajig that cost six hundred dollars, but a hundred more back home in TW. This, from what I can see is just an overly-expensive blender, will no doubt join the ranks of impulse purchases my mom routinely makes every one in a while (thankfully), uses twice, and ends up sitting on a shelf in the kitchen. Well, the heart wants what the heart want, and who am I to say anything about reckless spending, hell, I might as well have inherited this personality quirk from her. These thoughts no sooner left my mind that I began tearing open the other box, which by now we all know contained my newest acquisition: a 300mm lens. This was not a f2.8, for we all know those cost a small fortune that a grad student could no way afford in twenty years for a hobby, but a f4: smaller, lighter, but lets in a full stop less light. This latest version from Nikon is reportedly one of the sharpest lens in the Nikon line-up, and had gotten rave reviews over the internet as being a great lens still within the reach of amateurs, in fact, I don't think I've ever read a bad review of this lens. After a quick test indoors and two extra layers of sweaters, I lugged this beautiful piece of glass, the wide-angle Sigma, and a tripod out to Museum Campus in hopes I might get better pictures of the ducks with this longer focal length lens. I was immediately proven wrong after arriving at the lake a little out of breath due to my fast sprint to reach the shore. The ducks were further out into the lake today and even with this lens, they only turned up a negligibly bit larger in the shot than those taken with the 180mm macro. However, they were all very sharp, and the focus was spot on for almost all the shots (those that were not were most likely due to human error). I absolutely love this lens. Having given up on the ducks, I decided to take a couple shots of the Chicago skyline. I was aiming for the twenty minutes or so right after the sun had set and the city lights were coming on to get the contrasty blue-and-yellow look. I trekked out on the icy path to the very tip of the Adler Planetarium. The short trip was filled with danger at every bend for the path was covered with slippery ice and I had no wish to either fall to the ground and land on my equipment, or fall into the lake and land in the icy water. Ice floes on the lake bumped and ground into each other, and you could very well imagine you were in the Arctic Sea if you blocked out the city. On my way, I passed another photographer who apparently had the same thing in mind, after a brief exchange of nods, I walked further into the ice. I trust you are all familiar with Murphy's Law? It clearly states that when you want the sun to go down, it will stay up shining brightly as ever despite your pleas, even though for the past month or so it was lazy enough to retire at four in the afternoon also despite your pleas. Standing in the bitter cold with the wind finding places you though you'd covered up pretty well and cursing the sun was not my idea of a pleasant sunset shoot. To add to that, my tripod was set up on an uneven patch of ice very close to the edge of the lake and I was terribly afraid that a strong gust of wind would propel it into the water. In my attempt to grab hold of it, I would slip and fall, and the plunge into my icy grave would only be heard by the gulls laughing overhead. In order to prevent this from happening, I tried to stand as still as possible, figuring that I had a higher chance of survival on the land in the wind than, like the victims of the Titanic, in the water. I was simultaneously cursing myself for not remembering to put on an extra pair of socks and trying to level the ballhead when I almost slipped on the ice, luckily, I held onto the tripod and did not predict my icy demise in Lake Michigan. However, after examining the shots I took when I finally trudged home an hour later, it was probably worth it.
"Project R - Sandstorm" - Custom 10" Ringo
"Project R - Sandstorm" - Custom 10" Ringo
My entry to Iksentrik's custom vinyl show this weekend! The piece is already sold :) Backstory (it's a long one today!) "By late 2159 it was becoming clear to many that there was something going on. In the past 2 years alone, mysterious forces had swept whole areas of the globe, wiping out loggers in the Rainforest, whalers off Japan and sealclubbers in the Arctic. Tho numerous attempts had been made by journalists, intelligence agencies and the public to document the occurrences, every time brief glimpses of vast machines were made, all cameras appeared wiped, computers corrupted and satellite images scrambled. With nothing more than word of mouth accounts to hand, an urban legend of rogue robots filled with righteous indignation against the worst of mankind, spread fast. Popular opinion was one of outright support, but no group could back up their claims of responsibility... Project R was another experimental technology prototype, one the engineers nicknamed "Sandstorm". Robots had never faired well in the extremes of the desert, regularly suffering intakes and joints clogged with sand, their weight causing them to sink and become trapped in the Dunes. It was a serious problem. Global food shortages had forced mankind to reclaim these desert areas for food and energy production, but without robotic help it was nearly impossible! With a huge filtrations system, Sandstorm was meant to operate indefinitely in the sand, while his huge, flexible legs and wide feet let him bound over Dunes at up to 150mph without a single joint to get clogged. His long arms gave him the reach and strength to carry huge loads, operate a variety of equipment and erect large structures. His party trick was to smash his fists into the ground and dig so deep that he'd reach the water table and create instant Oasis. Not only could he help claim the Desert back, but he could be sent out to track down those lost or trapped in sandstorms, cutting through the clouds with his combination of millimeter radar and ultrasonic rangefinding. Field tests were going well, until one day he never returned. With no other robots capable of going out to find him, the air search was called off and questions were asked as to why his return commands had failed and why on earth the team has decided to paint him the same damn colour as the dunes!! Several weeks later a research team spotted plumes of smoke while out surveying the water table. Fearing a downed Hypercopter from the nearby Hoverport, they sent out a distress message and made their way to the scene. What they didn't expect was to find an illegal oil-drilling operation literally torn to pieces, whole areas of it flooded under quickly evaporating water and very little sign of life. Trucks had their illegal combustion engines crushed, one was even pile-driven into the oil well, steam pouring from it as the water bubbled up and put out the fires. The morning paper's reported a lone survivor's account, a man who turned out to be the leader of one of the largest cartels dealing in fossil fuels, substances banned 100 years previous but still responsible for 80% of the planet's atmospheric pollution. "The sand erupted below us as without warning. One by one men were pulled beneath the dunes. Something huge was throwing our own vehicles at those of us who remained, but the sun was too bright, the sandstorm too dense to tell what it was. Then there was water everywhere and those who weren't crushed, were drowned... the shadow stopped, looked at me and left. I don't know why. It was all over in a minute."

arctic food equipment
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