![]() The only thing was, there was nobody there. I was browsing through the clips, when I came across a person that was detected at 3am the night before. One day I was sitting at work and I logged in to see if my parcel had arrived. The object detection wasn't perfect though, as it regularly detected my cat as a person, or myself as a cat, and with a roughly 70% score for everything, correctly detected or not. It even came with a cool little dashboard that would let me view snapshots of the things it detected, with the detected objects having a coloured border around it, and a confidence percentage.Īt first it was kinda fun, logging in and seeing the neighbourhood cats wander through, or watch the postie deliver the mail. The set up was a breeze, and within the hour I had our front door camera hooked up, and object detection running. “Oh god, I’ve always wanted this to happen.” I swiped the dust from it.Ī month or two ago I set up a new video recorder system on my network, as I wanted to do some home automation stuff, like send a message to my phone when the cat is at the front door, or play a chime through my speakers when the pizza guy arrives. “Oh, shit!” I shuffled on my knees over to it. Set in the subfloor under the plywood I had moved was an old black safe with silver stenciling. ![]() I followed Caroline’s gaze and there it was. There was a loud knock from under another part of the subfloor, but for all I knew it was the wood settling after I’d had at it with the prybar.īesides, I was instantly distracted. “Thanks, love,” I took it from her but noticed she was frowning past me at the floor. She extended a hand with a mask pinched in her fingers. I set it down gently just as Caroline came in the doorway. The patchwork of plywood was all I could see while I held the giant sheet in front of me. I heard Caroline clapping up the stairs as I wrestled the wood from the floor. The house was built in the late 1800’s but the plywood boards still had a fresh, blond color to them. The subfloor had been replaced not too long ago, I noticed. ![]() I picked up my DeWalt and deftly unscrewed the first section of subfloor. The floorboards were stained black like long, rotted teeth and the wood was spongy the further I sank the prybar in. The maple flooring was beyond restoration, having taken some water damage when the house was abandoned in the eighties. The room was on our renovation list anyway. ![]() Something stank in the subfloor in the upstairs den and I spent one quiet Saturday in September prying up the plywood in hopes of discovering a dead rodent. My wife and I had been living in our ancient Victorian house for nearly five years before we found it. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |