today I flew the SkyCatcher (C162) for the first time

And I liked it.

Garmin G300 (with upgrade - see below)

GTU

R base 36
we did extend out for inbound aircraft
but we weren't as far out as this picture seems to indicate

last three stock pictures - I forgot to take some from outside the plane

next text copy and paste from Wiki, seems right to me.

The Cessna 162 Skycatcher is an American side-by-side two-seat, high-wing, strut-braced, tricycle gear light-sport aircraft (LSA) that was designed and produced by Cessna between December 2009 and December 2013. It is the most recently introduced aircraft in the company's general aviationproduct line and the most recently canceled.

The Cessna 162 has a maximum gross take-off weight of 1,320 lb (599 kg) and a standard empty weight of 834 lb (378 kg). With a full fuel load of 144 lb (65 kg) the payload remaining for crew and baggage is 342 lb (155 kg). 

     In analyzing the imminent end of Skycatcher production Paul Bertorelli of AVweb indicated that the reasons for ending production were high price, poor useful load and lackluster flight performance compared to its LSA market competitors.

Data from Flying Magazine^[ and Cessna.com

General characteristics

• Crew: one pilot
• Capacity: one passenger
• Length: 22.8 ft (6.95 m)
• Wingspan: 30.0 ft (9.14 m)
• Height: 8.53 ft (2.53 m)
• Wing area: 120 ft² (11.14 m²)
• Empty weight: 830 lb (376.5 kg)
• Useful load: 490 lb (222.3 kg)
• Max. takeoff weight: 1,320 lb (598.7 kg)
• Powerplant: 1 × Continental O-200D flat-four engine, 100 hp (74.6 kW)

Performance

• Maximum speed: 118 knots (218 km/h (136 mph))
• Cruise speed: 112 knots (207 km/h (129 mph))
• Range: 470 nm (870 km (540 smi.)) at 6,000 ft (1830 m)
• Service ceiling: 15,500 ft (4727 m)
• Rate of climb: 890 ft/min (4.52 m/s)
• Wing loading: 11.0 lb/ft² (55.0 kg/m²)
• Power/mass: 13.2 lb/hp (8.04 kg/kW)

My thoughts - I liked the castoring nose wheel - turned on a dime and created an ear to ear smile behind the yoke.  I weigh in at 150-ish, most of the people I fly with weigh more - managing the fuel is a bit of a hassle  (as a long term commitment to an airplane).  A disadvantage for me was the flap lever.  I was physically unable to pull the last ten degrees on final.  I wish the flaps deployed with  flips of a switch. I did like the engine (which is why the plane is heavier - Continental^  compared to  Rotax powering the other LSA's I've flown.  Not saying I didn't appreciate the Rotax*, just that the heavier engine has a different feel and might be a positive if I were looking to own. I do like the Flight Design Ct series ... all in all I probably lean that way, but this plane was a delight to fly. Cessna uses only AV 100LL where the Flight Design will readily accept Premium unleaded auto fuel or 100 LL Avgas (with a maintenance bump up in oil/filter changes)

^100 hp at 2750 RPM with a compression ratio of 8.5:1.

*Rotax 912 UL, 80 HP @ 5.800 rpm 1211 c.c.

9.0 to 1 Compression Ratio
Gearbox: 2.27 to one reduction ratio

Samson

Surreal picture taken this morning - Sammy is gone.  Yesterday I slid the door open to give him a treat, half of a turkey and swiss on wheat bread.  He took two steps towards me as I stepped out smiling at him.  Then he veered left and gracefully laid back down.  Hmmm, I thought, too tired for a snack because you were up all night barking at the deer.  I turned and dropped his sandwich into his bowl and I went back inside.  Later I noticed him still snoozing in the same spot.  I thought his position hasn't changed.  I thought he might be dead and I didn't want to go check on him, but I did.  His fur felt soft, I hoped I wouldn't startle him, maybe he was just sound asleep. But he didn't wake up.  The day before had been a perfectly normal day.  I've noticed him slowing down but ... .  He was a great dog.  Probably the best dog ever.

putting stuff back where it belongs - better for everyone

 

When we were looking for a house to rent over here I really did not like this house.  I like the proximity to the trails.  I like looking out the back windows and seeing something special - seriously, every time there is something neat to see out there - deer, blue heron, egrets, ducks or geese, people kayaking the river, cool rock formations steeped in history - neat stuff.  I like that I can always see my dog, and that he can see me.  I like that there is enough room in the house for my people.  I like that a storage building is right on the other side of the carport.  I like the carport rather than a garage and that's a surprise.  I like the trees and the birds in the trees.  It's quiet down here on the river and at night it's dark.  I like that.  

I didn't like that tiny pantry which was right sized for the tiny kitchen.  You don't need the list of what all I dislike about this house ... and to be honest I don't like to think about it.  I like to think about how the great room furniture is situated to take advantage of the views out back.  Everything is right about that river.

Storage furniture that was otherwise used in our old home now houses an excess of dishes, cooking vessels and small appliances, kitchen tools and less basic spices ... flower vases, Grandma's silver, table linens ... stuff.  Kitchen stuff, and overflow pantry stuff is easily found behind the closed cabinet doors just a few steps out of the kitchen in the "den" (which is a garage conversion and a very helpful, if aesthetically weird, multipurpose room).

The tiny pantry does what I need a pantry to do.  It keeps groceries within reach and out of sight. The tiny pantry does what I want it do.  It provides me with a place where everything is "orderly".  Every time time I open those little doors "stuff" in there makes perfect sense.

The refrigerator provides plenty of opportunity for me to practice self-soothing too.  I laugh about it now.  I used to be dismayed.  It's tiny to start with but the real challenge is everything in the back third is likely to freeze.  Lol,  I've found it to be optimal for left overs.  

Life has taught me that a lot of stuff can be in disarray, or seemingly in disarray, but as long as there are places beyond the reach of chaos "things" can  feel mostly okay.  I started with my pantry in the other house.  I could go in to the pantry when I need order.  

A lot of stuff seems to be a mess in our country.  I am hopeful that there is still time to set things "right".  

Election day

There will be no end to the troubles of states, 

or of humanity itself, 

till philosophers become kings in this world, 

or till those we now call kings and rulers really and truly become philosophers, 

and political power and philosophy thus come into the same hands. 

Plato

(Mechanics) Homage to the Renaissance

• Chicago-based photographer Freddy Fabris had long wanted to pay homage to the artists of the Renaissance period.
• After coming across a Midwest car shop that 'screamed for something to be shot there', he came up with the idea to recreate famous works of art Pieces parodied in the series include Philippe de Champaigne's The Last Supper and Michelangelo's The Creation of Adam. 
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Found too late to share with my brother.

He would have appreciated the humor and layers of this collection.

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                               This champagne-flavored ice cream contains 25 mg of Viagra.

And is rated as the worst of the worst ice cream flavors.  

Today I am thinking about ice-cream.  I have actually given up on ice cream in general, specifically the ice cream stored in my freezer.  As ice cream goes, over the years I've become a "just say no" sorta girl, I "check out" when ice cream is being eaten around me.  I used to think maybe, someday maybe, I will enjoy ice cream again.  It is a, if not the, favorite dessert on the planet.  I used to love it.  Now I'm, I guess lactose intolerant.  Every once in a while I accidentally find myself on the ice cream aisle and I think ... maybe there is a flavor here for me.  Every once in a while I am tempted.  Well, really just once.
On that day I imagined myself opening the container right there in the store and rubbing my finger across the yumminess ... just to taste, a tiny taste.  Yes, very naughty.  The yumminess ... with maybe some chocolate sauce and whipped cream ... .  Practically sinful to imagine.
I have wondered if I could maybe love ice cream again.
If  I could think of it as tiny tasting, I might do it.
I think of it as stealing though.  I think of it as ruining the ice-cream that rightfully belongs with some one else.  I think of how disappointed I would be to get home with my special treat only to discover that some very naughty someone had opened it and put a finger on it, in it.  That would be very sad.
It would ruining someone else's ice cream just so I could experiment with ... my digestive track.


Ice cream samples are frequently offered at the grocery store.  People line up for their tiny tastings.
I hurry away ... .

In order to help myself feel better about passing on the possibly scrumptious samples I decided to look up worst ice cream flavors.  I don't really care about which flavors are considered the worst, I just need a little help on not feeling too sad about resisting.  When I happen to think of ice cream I want to think of the "yuckiness" I'm saving myself from, the continued disappointments that I don't have to endure.  I needed help with that.

Can you imagine getting home with Bacon flavored ice cream?  Garlic or something called Cold Sweat, an ice cream so spicy hot that you're required to sign a waiver before you buy it.  Basically abuse in a bucket.  Even Pizza flavored ice cream would be gross.  Or Licorice!  Yuck, licorice tastes so bad that it makes me suspicious of all jelly beans!   I don't want to get side tracked here, but ... I do really like those coffee flavored jelly beans.  It's so very frustrating to think I'm getting ready for deliciousness only to find it's a black colored licorice jelly bean ... bait and switch! (Coffee flavored ice cream is my very favorite.  I think.  It's been  a while.)

Yep, best to just say no, no thanks. I don't want to think about all the delicious flavors.  I don't want to think about even one of them!

Thankful

Flowers on the table always remind me to be thankful.  They are different on the table than anywhere else in the house.  Flowers in the bathroom signals company is coming - lol.  Flowers in a bedroom, I'm sorry you're not feeling well, or happy birthday!

These little sunflowers are wilting fast, but we'll enjoy them while they last.

I have begun to think ahead for the Thanksgiving feast.

Turkey, cornbread dressing, creamy mashed potatoes, yeast rolls and plenty of gravy are mandatory on the menu.  The rest is up for change!

I like to keep it "not too much".  I'm thinking soup to start - maybe.  I'm also thinking of what to do with all that leftover turkey.  Tacos with chopped turkey, avocado slices and a spicy vegetable slaw was a tradition in the home I grew up in.  Turkey is surprisingly delicious on nachos too.  Our menus leaned heavily towards Mexican-American food.  They do in my kitchen too - the other day V said, "I just realized that I don't think of Mexican food as ethnic."  As my Spanish (Tex-Mex) vocabulary has diminished over the years I've noticed that the food words have remained! Which reminds me - I tasted a hint cumin in a cheesecake last week and it was kinda perfect.

Husband still out and about consulting out of State.  He'll be back mid month in time to spend the week with Three who will be in from Denver ... then Four, home for Thanksgiving.  She'll be back again a couple of weeks later bringing friends to  hang with us for a week or so.  Then Two will join us at home for Christmas and her boyfriend will come for a few days after Christmas.  One is in the area and we'll see him more often during this time.  I really like that my kids really like each other.

Five,aka V (V is what I really call her - the other's I never refer to numerically - only here for their privacy -), is home from school today with probably the flu.  She is by far the most diligent HS student I've ever known or known of.  I find myself in the pleasant situation of encouraging her to "lighten up" a bit on the books!  She wants to earn a full ride to somewhere special for college.  It must be tough being the youngest of five very solid achievers ... it's difficult to stand out the way we all desire to.  I tell her that siblings don't complete against each other, siblings support each other, but she does frequently compare herself to the finest attributes of the other four. I am grateful that she, like her brothers and sisters, is a great kid.  It's not easy these days.  I tell her that  I especially admire her willingness to act kindly towards others.  HS isn't the nicest time in a lot of peoples' lives.

Well ... three loads of laundry to fold, a bathroom to clean and a tiny bit of flu supplies shopping to see to - I'm thinking she may nibble on some homemade chicken and dumplings ... and Theuraflu.

Oh - one other thing.  Last night I wasn't sleepy.  I noticed something.  I used to have a small list of things I wanted to think about if things got quiet enough and still enough for me to think.  Sometimes I'd do reading on specific topics I wanted to think about to see what others had written on it.  I used to look forward to those nights when sleep wouldn't come or wouldn't stay.  When we found out my brother had cancer, I started playing a little game on my phone - like Yahtzee  ... push a button roll the dice or pop a bubble ... or find words in the maze of letters .. app games.  After he died I deleted most of them, but saved the two that had steps to completing all the rounds in the game.  I like to finish things that have a finish.  (I actually like to finish things that probably shouldn't have an end, but that's an entirely different thing.)  Now ... as I did when I was with Tommy, or even home, but thinking of Tommy, when I can't sleep or even when I have a minute to sit ... I am drawn to popping the bubbles or finding the words.  I am drawn to the habit of not thinking. It's a bit numbing.   I can see why I did that when my brother was dying - best to go on autopilot there - best not to think (for me anyway).  But now I can see that I really miss having a few interesting things to consider.  I need to break the easy habit and get back to the more enjoyable one.  So - I'm thinking about what I want to think about.
  

(Sharpie magic - source unknown)

My Dream

First of all, don't read this (at all) if you haven't played the Landscape Game, an Ancient Chinese Thought Experiment.  I don't want to ruin it for you!

Second, if you're my kid, I'd encourage you to wait on reading this until you'll note your own process - answers to the game - and I wouldn't begin that until much later - some time after your fortieth birthday.  Save it.  It can be done only once and it's going to be cooler to wait for more time on the planet.

Next, I read the introduction to the game, decided to do it when I had more time, and sat down with it early one morning, after the house was quiet.  I did follow the rules of "one question at a time" and did them in order, writing my responses as I went along.  My story follows - including the little side note which I'll put in parenthesis.

My Dream:

I am dreaming.  It begins after the beginning and ends before the end.  I see my feet - walking, barefoot in powdery light dirt.  The dirt, like the air, is warm, pleasantly so.  Things feel calm, clean.  I am in "the country".  Grass and trees are all around - big trees, soft grass.  Then people - like a camp - and some low buildings - also like a camp.  There is singing - joy - laughter.  There is a swing - near a lake.  I am walking to the swing.  I feel peaceful.
In the dream, I wake up in a smallish house.  Various rooms are connected by covered, sometimes screened porches. My bedroom views a lot of "green" with a view of the beach.  Some of the house walls slide open.  It feels unfettered by safety concerns.  The interior is basically white with muted grey.  I see paintings with blues and greens.  The house smells crisp - like linen.  Everything is very tidy, but not austere.  I feel old wood floors underfoot.  I do not know where the house is.  I cannot see other houses or buildings.  It may be on an island, but it doesn't feel isolated.  Maybe it is in the Puget Sound area NW of Seattle.  I sense both lakes/rivers and ocean, but there are a lot of trees around.
It is early in the day, the hush of night is lifting, but the birds aren't active yet. 
I came through a sliding screen door to get into the kitchen.  The kitchen is nice.  To my left is a big table with banquet seating and five chairs, it is open to the kitchen as is a great room.  The kitchen has a high ceiling with sky lights - light is streaming in. The cabinets are medium dark wood - plain, and open shelves house basic dishes.  The counter tops are cream colored with specks of grey to black, there are a few shimmery flecks catching the light.  The appliances are under the wood - veneered - invisible.  The sink is one, dark and deep.  The oven is in an alcove with counter tops on either side - I think the counter top is steel, it is different.  A pantry wraps the two outside walls of the kitchen.  My coffee is in the pantry.
Now I am leaving the kitchen to go for a walk.  As I step outside I see trees framing a lawn on the side of the house where I'm walking out.  They provide a nice cover, but aren't super dense - there is grass under them and they part - or there is a wide opening in front of me with a sand/dirt path way - it opens up to reveal a shore line.  Nearest to the house there are no tree trunks, but large branches stretch towards the house covering part of the patio like an umbrella - there is a bird feeder hanging there, but no outdoor furniture.  I sometimes sit in the shade on the edge of the deck.
I am walking a winding path of stones and sand, past rocks and dry reeds that rattle and hum in the breeze.  I crest a rise and start down.  Looking around, I see beside the path a bowl which I pick up and carry with me.  It is a clay bowl which I threw.  It was fired with turquoise glaze rolled inside the bowl and then wiped clean for a "non-drip" edge.  The outside of the bowl is natural, untooled clay, but you can see where my hands shaped it.  It is rounded, well formed, sturdy yet relatively light.  It fits in both hands best - as a serving bowl.  My "D" and a tiny heart are imprinted and filled with turquoise on the bottom and there is a "footing ring" as a base.
The path moves on past ruins, there are false turnings everywhere, but I move straight on.  Beside the path I see a key which I pick up and carry with me.  The key is to a BMW - not really - the key is as long as my hand.  It is golden with green oxidation - oh there are other colors too.  The top of the key is ornate - like CELTIC scroll-y stuff, but flat and detailed where the lattice like pieces meet.  It's a pretty fancy key.  The business end is quite simple though.  It looks like a hollow tube - writing pen sized.  I can see "ridges" when I look inside the key "barrel".  I have never seen a key like this.  It feels worn smooth, comfortable in my hand.  The key feels - alive -in my hand.  "It" doesn't change from metal, but it seems to "turn on ?" as my hand warms it up.  

(I am starting to feel a little uneasy about this ten question game.  I am concerned that it doesn't end as nicely as it began.) (The feeling that the key likes me is almost too weird.)

Now the path has moved out of the forest into the open.  It has grown hot.  I find myself at a body of water.  I am not surprised that the path has opened to water nor that it is hot.  I walk right in to the  - what?  An ocean?  It is salty water.  I am all the way in.  The bottom is smooth - I can see my feet, the water is very nice, warm, not overly wavy, just perfect.  I see rainbow colored strings, the length of my fingers flowing in the water.  The water is alive, nourishing.  I see a dolphin type animal moving towards me.  I smile.
The path is under water.  I can see it, but the water gets deeper and deeper.  The dolphin who has golden shimmery skin, silently tells me to hold on to his fin.  I have the key and the bowl in my other hand and I tell him (again, silently) that I don't know how to keep everything with us in the water if I have only one hand to use.  He says press the key against your heart and I do.  The key "adheres" to my body - as though there is a spot specifically "key case" sized there.  I am amazed.  The dolphin has laughing eyes.  He enjoys my pleasure at this discovery.  I cup the bowl over the key and hold it close in the crook of my arm.  With my left arm wrapped across my body, I hold on to the dolphin with my right hand.  He says I am not hurting him.  He is swimming us along - pleasantly, purposefully.  I become smaller, or he becomes larger, I do not know which, as we approach a wall which seems to rise out of the water.  As he slows down, my legs and feet sink down and I feel a solid surface under them.  It feels like rock but there is a suction type thing also, like when you stand in sand along the shore.  My feet feel "hugged" as I climb the wide shelf-like risers out of the water.
The wall is pearl like - white, seamless, but different from a pearl in that it does not have a solid edge - it is opaque - it looks like - I can't find the words exactly.  It's solid because of its ... like water from way up high is "solid" if you enter it "wrong".  This wall is "veil-like" - curtain like - I walk right into it!  Exactly like entering the water!  Those rainbow threads are moving everywhere in here - they are swirling together like DNA helix - double helix - sometimes they look like flowers - sometimes they look like dancing threads.  My bowl is changing!  It is humming like the reeds!  It is becoming GOLD.  My tears of joy, old sadnesses, I thought joy, but it started as joy and amazement, but now it feels like every hurt, broken, ugly part, memory, deed - it feels like I am becoming "clean" as tears flow out of me in the veil/wall.  My bowl is filling up with the tears of me.  The gold is rising with the tear line!  My joy increases as the tears leave my body.  I sense that there was pain and grief where goodness is seeping in to fill. I feel sad for myself even as I forget sadness - it is like lotion on very dry skin - you didn't know it was dry until the lotion, then you realize how bad it felt because of how good it now feels.
All I can see is light.
I am "on the other side" of the "wall".  I hold my golden bowl in both hands as an offering.