No Man’s Sky

At last! The game is released for the PC and I bully the husband into letting me buy it. It's not a cheap game.
At last! The game is released for the PC and I bully the husband into letting me buy it. It’s not a cheap game.

I’ve been waiting excitedly for this game since a friend told me about the first time, back in spring. Minecraft but in space, she called it. The original Minecraft appealed to me, with its ambling about and resource gathering, but I always was left with a feeling of now what? I’m not really hooked on building giant 3D pictures of real life or fantasy cities, that sort of thing. I just want to potter about. Well, guess what, that’s exactly what No Man’s Sky is about. Among other things.

The user interface for my startship which I traded a rather crappy trader to get.
The user interface for my starship which I traded a rather amateurish trader to get.

Pottering about and picking up everything that isn’t nailed down means you need inventory space. Guess what you don’t have a lot of at first? Yep. It proves an interesting challenge, deciding what to keep and what to throw away, while you hunt for the exclusive trading outposts and space stations where raw commodities can be turned into sweet, sweet cash.

What do I want cash for? Well, guess. Bigger ships with more inventory space. Also bigger shields and bigger guns. At some point I want my exosuit to be upgraded to let me survive on freezing cold ice balls or irradiated toxic waste balls. I want to carry so much loot that the space station director starts to drool when he spots my ship. And I want to have the guns and shields to defend it, because you know what sucks? Jumping in from hyperspace to land among a pirate fleet. You learn to fear that ‘hostile subspace scan detected’ chime. Space combat is very much a thing.

Geks are cute. Not all of the races are quite that easy going.
Geks are cute. Not all of the races are quite that easy going.

The first hour or so you play through some very simple situations to teach you how the game works. You wake up on a random planet, your ship in pieces. Go forth, brave one, and collect everything you need to repair it! And while you’re out there, could you please catalogue every life form, be it flora or fauna… And don’t forget, some of those life forms think you would make great dinner.

My starting planet looked like a dark brown Swiss cheese and I kept getting lost trying to walk around holes and mountains. As it turns out, my little space self and his magnetic boots are actually pretty good at running up almost vertical surfaces, and a jetpack upgrade really made things easier. It all felt very overwhelming at first, but the controls are surprisingly intuitive. After an hour or two, I wasn’t even thinking about what I was doing anymore, and I’m not very good at this sort of thing. I still run face first into walls in War of Worldcraft, for Pete’s sake.

lynne-prime-2
This planet is lovely. Nice weather, lazy sentinels, great loot — I should have stayed.

Once I was ready to leave my initial star system I had a stroke of great luck; I ran into a trader who sold me a decent newbie ship at a remarkably low price (those of you who play will agree with me that four hundred thousand units is very, very cheap). Then I jumped into what turned out to be a gorgeous star system with a beautiful red planet. I named it the Aeson system, after a friend whose roleplaying character has a fondness for scarlet.

Lynne Prime, as I named it, had lovely weather, a pleasant range of temperatures, no particular toxicity or radiation, and lots of rare minerals. It had a beautiful colour range, red grass, green trees and cobalt blue shades of minerals. Interaction with offworlder aliens was scarce, granted, but it was a short hop to the system’s space station to sell my loot. The local space pirate gang only caught me once.

lynne-prime-3
I wasn’t joking about the lots of loot.

When at last I felt like taking on new challenges and perhaps meet exciting new aliens with exciting new technology, my luck ran out. I hyper jumped from system to system, and flew from planet to planet, without finding a rock to put my feet down on. I jumped right into a stellar battle. I landed on planets so cold that I froze almost solid before managing to close the door to my ship again. Planets with acid rain so intense that my exosuit caved like plywood. Planets where the sentinels were so aggressive that —

Did I forget the sentinels? Well, those are the robotic overseers of the universe and they don’t much like change. Blast a few rocks to pieces to get at their valuable minerals, sure enough, these little robotic pests turn up. Fortunately, they’re not very smart. If you’re already done when they get there, they’ll usually just fly around and be confused. Or, if you’re on a high security world, they’ll attack you without the slightest provocation. I thought it a tad ironic when I had to take out four sentinels after they tried to kill me because I killed a dog-lizard-thing that tried to eat me. That’s taking wildlife preservation a little too far.

After many attempts, finally found a world that didn't try to kill me.
After many attempts, I finally found a world that didn’t try to kill me.

Planets and moons are generated following a complicated formula that guarantees that their ecosystems make some kind of sense while not two are alike. My second lucky shot got dubbed Arizona Prime because it reminds me of pictures from there. Also, I like the word Prime.

This world gets a little chilly at night, some minus 50 degrees Celsius or so, but my exosuit can handle it and fuel is in ample supply. Day temperatures range around 20 degrees and the views are quite something. There’s no radiation and no toxins, and most of the wildlife is quite friendly (except the unicorn dogs, I shoot those little bastards on sight).

Though the storms were a tad heavy handed.
Though the storms were a tad heavy handed.

Extreme environments can be handled with upgrading your exosuit and in many cases, by seeking shelter. This can be a literal shelter at an alien outpost (you’ll want to search around those for new technology anyway), or hopping into a cave to get out of storms. Arizona Prime is unfortunately prone to some really, really violent dust storms.

Always know where your nearest shelter is.
Always know where your nearest shelter is.

So what do I love about No Man’s Sky? The pottering about, searching everything, poking everything with my multitool, learning alien languages one word at a time, trying to speculate in trading goods (markets fluctuate from system to system), the grand over-all quest to get to the core of the galaxy (I think, it’s a tad unclear), the beautiful vistas, the smooth and elegant user interface… I like all the options. There are countless things you can do in the game, and my choosing to be a peaceful merchant and explorer doesn’t mean that you can’t be a vicious space pirate.

But stay off Lynne Prime. That’s the world I plan to retire to.

Early Morning Bliss

We had the great fortune of finding a new trout lake not too far from where we live. Stenvad Put & Take is gorgeous, particularly at 5 am on a summer morning before the heat begins to take.

morning

The golden light coming up as the sun struggled to get over the horizon. The myriads of tadpoles disturbing the mirror blank surface of the lake. The birds singing their little throats out in the woods. The babbling of the brook that feeds the lake. Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.

The trout of Stenvad are fierce fighters. They proved that on our first visit about a month ago, where Alvin and I each managed to land one. They’re muscular fish, spending their time hunting rather than waiting for trout pellets. In a put & take lake, this is a pretty big deal. The water is clean, full of wildlife, and the fish are healthy.

perch

The morning’s sole catch was this beautiful perch but that’s all right. When push comes to shove, I don’t go fishing to put food on the table. I go because I love the outdoors experience and the ambience. It’s one of the few outdoors activities I can take part in, in spite of my walking handicap. One fish, no fish, or a gazillion fish, it doesn’t matter.

One Horse Demolition Crew

You will not get a video of me riding today because I have not been at the barn since Tuesday. You will get one of Louise Jäger and Pilar practising their jumping yesterday. Or their demolition technique. Not sure which term applies the better.

I have not been in the barn because of my new diet. I am currently living on 400 calories a day. If you find yourself thinking that that is not a lot, then you are right. It is not, and I feel like roadkill. I am not particularly hungry. I’m just exhausted and dizzy, and all my muscles are hurting. All I want to do is sleep.

My weight has moved from a high of 155 kg to a low of 147 kg. It’s too early to tell whether there is any actual weight loss though: My weight fluctuates a lot. Still, I am being optimistic. And thinking about eating the cat.

What to do about abuse and neglect?

Imagine that you are a young girl (or boy, for that matter) walking along a field of grazing horses on a hot summer’s day. The horses do look a bit thin – and coming to think of it, you can’t see any water troughs. You pause for a closer look and notice that some of them have small scrapes and cuts. One or two could use a hoof trim. With sinking heart you realize that these horses may be victims of neglect with no access to water and not being looked after properly. What do you do?

If you’re an average phone-wielding teenage girl you snap a number of pictures and post them to the Facebook groups about horses you’re a member of, asking if anyone else thinks these horses look neglected or even abused. And that’s when the manure hits the fan.

No horse owner is going to appreciate being hung out to dry on the social media as an abusive or neglectful caretaker. A bazillion horse owners are going to point out that at any given time, this photo could have been of their horse and they’d like to skin you alive for suggesting that they’re hurting their beloved animals. Unless the horses in questions are victims of very visible abuse or neglect (read: rail thin with extreme hooves and large open wounds) you’re going to be end up branded as a nosy brat who should mind her own god-dang business.

 

Make sure there is a problem to begin with

Address the issues you’re seeing one step at a time. Do the horses have access to water? Just because you can’t see a trough from where you’re standing does not mean that there isn’t one. Walk along the fence and look for troughs, barrels, old bath tubs, etc. Do not jump the fence – in most countries this will be considered trespassing. Unless the fence is ginormous you should be able to spot a water source from outside anyway. Keep in mind that a brook or other natural water source is also fresh water; there may not be a need for a trough in the first place.

Do the horses look thin? Depending on a horse’s age and its fitness level a horse can look thin without being underweight, and similarly, it can look tubby while being in poor health. Older horses often have problems maintaining weight and may show visible ribs and hip bones in spite of getting everything they need.

Are the horses badly in need of a farrier? If they have hooves that look like Aladdin’s curly-toe shoes, then yes, they definitely have a problem. But what if their hooves are a tad long, a bit cracked and rough at the edges, and look a little flaky? There is no way you can tell whether the farrier is scheduled to come by tomorrow.

 

Talk to the owner about it

Your first stop when worried about the horses should not be the internet. Try to find out who is responsible for the horses and talk to that person instead. Most horse owners are happy to talk about their horses and will explain the facts to you. Most will appreciate that you care enough for their horses’ welfare to ask in the first place.

Let me use my own horse, Pilar, as an example here. When Pilar came to our barn two months back, she was about 100 kilos underweight according to her vetenarian check. She had long toes that flaked and cracked at the drop of a pin. She had bald spots from scratching against things. On her first night in the barn she got kicked by another horse, leaving a nasty cut on her thigh. She had various smaller scrapes and scratches on the chest and rump area in particular. She was a perfect candidate for a tearful facebook post about a poor, abused horse.

Pilar had not been starved; she lacked exercise. She had spent eight months in a perfectly flat field with no real reason to move or develop muscle tissue, with no work. This is neglect, – and I salute her previous owner for facing the facts that she did not have the required time to own a horse and selling her to somebody who does, i.e. me. She is still thin and undermuscled, but she has gained about half of what she needs to gain and we are in the process of building her muscles up.

Her toes were longish and cracked at the edges. She has a tad flat feet, and the previous owner made us aware that she had had trouble with her hooves cracking. Currently she has her hooves trimmed by a barefoot trimmer every four weeks, and it is helping – but it is going to take time to rectify this problem. The new hoof ceratin has to grow out before the old can be removed, and hooves grow slow.

The bald spots turned out to be a relatively easy fix: Many Friesians have trouble with mite infestations, and a shot against parasites was required, along with a Frontline treatment. Killing the mites is easy, but fur needs time to grow back in, and even after two months she still has a bit of skin trouble in places where her skin was particularly damaged.

The kick on the inner thigh she received on her first night with us was quite severe, removing hair and skin and bleeding a fair bit. It was, however, not very deep. We kept it clean, applied honey and disinfectant, and let nature take its course while keeping a firm eye on it, but recovery takes time: The last scab fell off this week. That means that for more than a month you could take a look at her leg and see a sizeable cut that looked deceptively untreated.

Finally, Pilar still has nip marks on her chest and rump areas. Why? Because she’s a Friesian with a Friesian’s understanding of personal space. Whenever the horses are fed in the field, hay is distributed in several slow feeders, allowing ample space for each horse to eat regardless of its place in the hierarchy. I have watched Pilar rush to get the best spot at the first feeder filled for two months now – and every time she gets put back in her place by the more senior horses who aren’t tolerating her sense of entitlement. Horses are like that; none of the other horses are particularly aggressive but everyone in the herd needs to know and accept their place – and a six year old mare who doesn’t get it is going to get nipped until the penny drops or she eventually rises to the top of the hierarchy.

When in doubt, try to find the responsible person and talk to them. There is often a perfectly valid explanation for things that may seem wrong at first glance. A horse may be in the middle of a medical treatment – vetenarians do not have magic wands that make everything all right at a moment’s notice. It may be old. It may have other problems that are in the process of being dealt with. Don’t assume the worst because people generally do care for their horses, very much so.

 

A kid is telling me I’m abusing my horse!

We animal people usually encourage our kids to not accept cruelty towards animals. We are furious when presented with abuse or neglect and we often get into fiery arguments even with each other when we disagree upon proper treatment and care. We want our kids to care. We want them to pipe up when they see something unacceptable, instead of looking away or pretending not to notice.

There’s a backdraw to this: It means that we also have to accept that sometimes, the kids are going to question us. And when they do, we need to chill, to not go on the defensive, but to explain to the kids what is going on and why we are doing what we are doing. I am proud of every kid that asked me about Pilar – why does she have that cut? Doesn’t she need a farrier? You do realize she’s rather thin? Every time I had to explain her medical issues and what I am doing about them is a time a kid stood up for the horse and asked the right questions.

The kids were not trying to make me look or feel bad – they were trying to do what is right for the horse that I also care so much about.

 

What to actually do?

If you think that horses are being neglected and or abused, try to find the responsible caretaker. Ask them about the issues. Make sure to say that you’re not accusing them of anything – you’re asking because you care about the horses and you want to know that they’re being looked after well.

Some horse owners will tell you to buzz off and mind your own damn business. When this happens, try to find more experienced horse people that you trust, and ask them to come look at the horses with you. In most places you’re not allowed to enter the field, but you can likely get a good look from the legal side of the fence. Ask a teacher at your riding school or the barn owner or someone else whose experience you trust to help you out.

If you still think the horses are victims of abuse or neglect, contact the proper authorities. This is likely the police, but you can also go to an organisation that looks out for mistreated horses and animals. You can likely find one easily on the internet. Call them and ask them to help, and if they cannot, ask them for help finding the right place to call. This may turn out to be the police, or another organisation closer by.

It is very tempting to dash to the social media with a picture of abused horses but remember that if you are wrong, you are hurting the person who cares for the horse for no reason. Don’t do it unless you’ve exhausted other options for finding help – but if you have no other options, remember that it is better to post on facebook asking for the opinions and advice of other horse owners than to turn your back on horses who are suffering.

Similarly, we horse owners need to get better at recognising the concerns of particularly younger horse people and not leap right to defending ourselves. We teach our kids to care and speak up for animals: We don’t have the right to tell them to shut the hell up when they do.

Wolf! Wolf!

Wolf Attack!

Made this a few weeks back to poke fun at a group of very excited people on Facebook who were certain that now the wolves were going to be coming and they’d be unable to ride out safely anywhere without having to bring a shotgun. I tried to point out to them that there are numerous, very much real far more severe threats to a rider and her horse than wolves, to no avail.

Anyway, the presumed wolf attack turned out to be a feral dog.