Infinite State Automaton

I wrote a letter to Anna today, and part of it I had so much fun writing that I thought I should include here also.

"Well, there were supposed to be red backs here, but I never saw any. We
did get a lot of huntsman spiders though, mostly medium sized and a few
large ones, and also snakes. We encountered a lot of spiders. Here's a
thing...spiders like to hide under bark. Bark lives on trees. There
were lots of trees in Hatherleigh. So spiders....everywhere. The
knowledge that they were all completely harmless did a lot to relax you.
However this illusion was instantly shattered the moment when one day
one of the big ones decided it was going to have a piece of Warren for
lunch, which it did. One of the things we would regularly do would be
find a tree that looked like it could be a threat to the house and/or
old and could fall and hurt someone, and cut it down. Then we would cut
it up into 30cm or so sections and stack it up neatly, clear up the
branches, and burn all the excess tinder. The log stack would stay
there for a few months until it had dried out enough that it could be
burned, whereupon it would be carted down to our woodshed and later, I
would bring it up to the house so that we could have a fire during the
bitterly cold winter months.
Of course you will say "Omg Sky....-1, -2 degrees is cold? You are
weak." Yes. Yes I am weak. Anyway, one day Warren and I were picking
up these logs when suddenly I heard Warren yelling and then screaming
and screaming. I immediately thought, oh, he has found a snake again.
A while ago, we were taking the logs away when, oh surprise, it's a
tiger snake. Tiger snakes = angry + aggressive to humans + poisonous =
very dangerous. Roger destroyed it with generous application of rake to
head. Mum is frightened of snakes, to the point where even a picture of
a snake is enough to reduce her to a quivering wreck. Anyway, this time
it was a spider, only it wasn't on a log, it was on Warren's hand,
biting him every three or four seconds. You know, just sitting
there...hmm, this hand is delicious *bite*.....oh, still good! I'll try
some more *bite*. Warren was just kind of standing there screaming
every time it bit him, his hand outstretched and his whole body shaking.
So Dad and I just kind of stood there for a few seconds while it bit him
a few more times, until Dad eventually stepped forward and flicked it
off with his fingers. It scurried off back to the log pile and tried to
hide, but it's evil red eyes could clearly be seen through its dark
miasma of pure hate (with a hint of contentedness. People hands are
tasty). So, this was a new thing. We had always been told huntsman
spiders wouldn't bite someone. I had seen people playing with them,
videos of people training them as pets. Now I had seen with my own eyes
one happily taking nips of my brother. This story takes a far more
interesting turn much later when Dad is cutting up a tree and disturbs a
huntsmans nest, and a few baby spiders - no more than two centimetres
across - surge towards him. Then the whole bark falls away and SEVERAL
MILLION SPIDERS, in a thick sea of eight legged wrath, charges towards
us, and we all remembered "Oh that's right, these guys will bite when
they are angry. Retreat!!"

So, Warren is lucky. The spider is not poisonous. It's no worse than a
bee sting, except, he has eight of them on his hand and it swells up.
Some ice and disinfectant and he's all good. So then Roger says to me,
"OK, please take the rest of the wood to the shed."

So I returned to the wood pile. There are eight pieces of wood left.
It should be an easy job except, I can't see the spider anymore.

Where did he go?

Obviously, he is hiding somewhere, waiting to attack.
He knows I know he is there. He's hiding. Watching. Waiting for his
moment. He is black, black as the night, and the dry she-oak logs,
darkened by the soft rain, conceal him as well as thick fog might. It's
quiet. Totally quiet. Even the birds, sensing this show down, this
final battle between good and evil the centre stage of even their world
right now, silent. The wind dies down. The plaintive cries of baby
lambs, warped over the landscape from distant farms, add an unnatural,
haunting atmosphere. Overhead, vultures circle. They know only one can
walk away from this.

But then I hear it.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap ta-
There.

The spider is so big he makes a noise when he moves. I can't see him,
but I can tell from the sound...there.
He's on top of the log my hand is just about to touch. I can see his
little muscles, straining in anticipation, his thick, cat like fangs
whirling, saliva dribbling like molten wax, his eight hungry eyes all
focused on my left hand as he mentally goes through exactly how he will
cook it up.

So he doesn't see my right hand bring the log I had just put away down
over his filthy body, splattering him into a billion juicy pieces.

The world explodes into sound. The birds are jubilant, the wind picks
up and howls a crescendo of triumph to match my victorious shout of
relief, but then suddenly -
IT WAS A DIFFERENT SPIDER.

There, sitting on the log I just just picked up, is ANOTHER spider. In
an instant I realise my mistake - the spider I have just crushed is
dark, dark grey, an innocent victim, just standing there, but rushing
towards me now is the true evil, the ancient enemy that -

There's no time. As I let go of the log, he jumps, I step back, his
eight legs spread wide, eyes full of revenge for his mate I have cut
down in revenge for his brother...and misses, falling on the ground. I
am wearing boots. Stomp. The end.

I pick up the logs and take them to the shed.

I loved Hatherleigh so much."

A few minutes ago I called Dani on her phone and disturbed her and her charges. I gave Devlan some good ideas. I wonder how many kilograms of chocolate cake an eight year old can eat.

Tonight Rusty and I are enjoying some good old times with the old Transformers game while I wait for my washing to finish. We're running through the old levels with the most powerful characters with an emphasis on super aggressive behaviour, with the best melee minicons on. This is the stupid way to play it - it's almost impossible to get anywhere. But it's a whole new playing experience. It's a sad thing that this game that is so old could be better than the new Transformers game, but there it is.

In response to Mum:

The thing with China? Oh, it was a positive experience. At the time I whined and complained because it interfered with my plans to be with Dana asap. But really, the one semester it held me back is largely eclipsed by the years I managed to hold myself back through failing so many subjects.

So don't worry about it. My whining was largely because I was immature and selfish. It was a good thing, and a really great experience. I wish that I had used that time more effectively than I had.

I worked hard today. It's been like it all week. Tomorrow is wine tasting. I'm looking forward to it. It's "Mission Accomplished" if I don't get photographed nude, covering myself with only a poorly shaved monkey stolen from the zoo, and see the picture drawn into the moon with a high powered lazer.

I can't possibly fail.