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If all you have is a hammer…

2025-06-18T00:00:00Z

This, dear reader, is a hammer. It is almost entirely irrelevant to the article. Enjoy.

I presume everyone is familiar with the idiom “if all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail”. If not, well, there it is. It’s generally used pejoratively about being single-minded, but I think it also gives a glimpse into something more interesting: mental and perceptual sets.

Before I explain, let me tell you a story about a person who bought a 3D printer¹. When they were first thinking about getting one, they weren’t sure if it was worth it. They could print a few board game accessories, but then what? After they got it, though, a whole new world opened up: everywhere they looked there were opportunities to improve things by adding 3D printed plastic. Broken appliances were repaired with 3D printed parts, all sorts of shelves, organisers, hooks and other things were made. But when they talked about this to other people, most often the response was “That’s nice, but I don’t think I’d use one”. How could they not see the truth in all its glorious layer lines?!

The answer is in the concept of a ‘set’², and instead of trying to explain it, I’m just going to quote Wikipedia:

In psychology, a set is a group of expectations that shape experience by making people especially sensitive to specific kinds of information. A perceptual set, also called perceptual expectancy, is a predisposition to perceive things in a certain way. […] A mental set is a framework for thinking about a problem. It can be shaped by habit or by desire. Mental sets can make it easy to solve a class of problem, but attachment to the wrong mental set can inhibit problem-solving and creativity.

This perfectly captures what happened. They’d developed a ‘3D printing mental set’: a predisposition to see problems that can be solved with their ~~hammer~~ 3D printer. Once I started noticing this pattern, I started seeing it all over the place.

Sets at work

Aside from the “could this be improved with some 3D printed plastic” perceptual set, I’ve noticed a couple of other sets: DIY, and writing puzzles.

DIY is probably the most obvious one. Once you become a little familiar with the basics of what you can fix and how, it seems like you start noticing the opportunities more. Before, you might have ignored that loose door handle, but now you notice it and realise with a screwdriver and a sex bolt³ you can fix it and stop it coming loose again anytime soon.

As you do more things, you build up your set of mental sets as well. You learn how to attach things to different types of walls, how to safely work with electricity, and so on, and suddenly installing a new outside light goes from a seemingly complex job to just exercising some of those concepts you’re already familiar with.

This works across ‘disciplines’ as well: I wanted to automatically cool a room down, using a fan in the window to blow in cool air. The 3D printing mental set gave me a way to make it physically go where I wanted it to, the home automation set gave me a plan for how to automate it, and the electricity set helped me figure out how to wire in the relay. It sounds a bit stilted when I spell it out like that, but the catch is I didn’t have to sit down and work any of this out. I was already primed to think in a certain way. I had a whole selection of hammers, and could pick the right combination of them to beat this particular nail⁴.

Puzzles are a bit different. I enjoy taking part in puzzle hunts⁵, and at first I was bewildered at how the authors came up with all the puzzles. After I started thinking about writing some myself, though, I began to notice all kinds of things that could maybe be turned into a puzzle: a specialised database, or a song with repetitive lyrics, or set of things with unique ID numbers. Writing the actual puzzles is still tricky, but once you’ve equipped the “look out for puzzle material” perceptual set it’s much easier to gather a range of ideas.

For example, one puzzle I wrote came about because I stumbled upon Sir Patrick Stewart’s Cowboy Classic Sampler⁶. I think everyone will agree that it’s a fairly unique collection. I tied some samples of the songs together with some screen captures of Sir Patrick as Picard in Star Trek: The Next Generation, and puzzlers had to find the season and episode numbers of the pictures, then use those numbers to select a track and a word from that track in the audio mix. Those words spell out a question, and the answer to that question is the answer to the puzzle.

There were other hints mixed in to point you in the right direction, it wasn’t quite as opaque as it might sound! But the point is without being in that “puzzle finding” mindset when I came across the album, there’s no way I could have come up with that puzzle. Like with the fan, I was primed to think a certain way, and managed to create something I otherwise would have struggled with.

The curse of noticing things

Figuring out how to make stuff isn’t the only place sets appear, though. Perceptual sets are about how we perceive things. When you read something with lots of bullet points, em-dashes, and the word “delve” do you automatically think it’s LLM generated?⁷ Then you have an LLM text perceptual set! It’s kind of annoying, as it’s difficult to “turn off” and stop noticing these things once you’ve seen them. Similarly, I think I have a “bad grammar” set. I know it doesn’t bother a lot of people, but if I’m reading a book and there’s a rogue apostrophe it will throw me right out of the moment. It’s like tripping up when walking and being torn out of a daydream. There’s some use to these — being able to notice grammar errors easily helps with my writing — but for the most part they’re a negative input: they point out things are broken or bad.

The “edge case set” takes this to another level. After about 20 years of writing software⁸ I have a finely honed ability to spot problems. Give me something to implement and my brain will immediately rattle off all the different edge cases and under-specified parts. Then some other bit of my brain gets the job of deciding which we actually care about, which are worth raising, and so on. It’s definitely useful to spot them up-front, rather than when you’re deep in the weeds implementing something, and tends to make everything go a lot smoother if you can hammer the major ones out when planning work. It doesn’t turn off after work though; it comes up when reading board game rule books, or descriptions of the magic system in fantasy novels, or news reports, and so on. It’s a lot less useful then.

Speaking of news reports, here’s a fun one: Gell-Mann amnesia is a cognitive bias where even when you critically assess media reports about something you’re knowledgeable about (say, technology), you continue to trust similar reporting in other areas (say, medicine). But once you know about Gell-Mann amnesia, you might start to actively notice when it happens. You scoff at the article about how the Internet is a “series of tubes” and then start reading the next one about a cancer treatment, but — wait a minute — your Gell-Mann amnesia set kicks in. I’m not sure what you then do with this information. Dismiss basically all the media and news as useless? It’s honestly pretty annoying.

The meta set

I’ve had this blog post on my ideas list since I first noticed the “3D printing mindset”. I didn’t know sets were an actual thing, and I didn’t have most of the examples I do now. As time went on with this idea rattling around in the back of my head, I started noticing the patterns come up more and more. There’s lots of more examples I didn’t include because I didn’t want to just write a listicle of mental patterns. But the fact that I noticed them all seems to mean that I’ve developed a set set, or a meta-set, if you will. It’s fascinating to think about how all this happens inside our mushy bag of neurons, but also a bit terrifying. If thought processes are that malleable, what stops you accidentally breaking them? Actually, thinking about things like Q-Anon, flat earthers, and a lot of contemporary “politics”, maybe that’s quite easy to do?

Image credits

Photo	Creator	Licence	Source
Hammer	Ian Talmacs	Unsplash License	Unsplash

Surprise! I am that person. Bet you didn’t see that coming! ↩︎
I feel like they should have consulted the mathematicians and/or computer scientists before they picked a name. ↩︎
Yes, that’s a real thing. No, I won’t ever use any of the alternative names for it. ↩︎
OK, I’ve strained the metaphor enough. I’m sorry. I’ll stop. ↩︎
If you’re not familiar, a puzzle hunt is a competition where you try to solve puzzles faster than other teams. The sort of puzzles involved are perfectly described by this quote from Mike Develin: “Imagine a word search. Now imagine you aren’t told what words to look for. Now imagine you aren’t told it’s a word search. Now imagine it isn’t a word search.” ↩︎
Go and give it a listen. I’ll wait. ↩︎
I hereby certify all my em-dashes are hand-crafted. Relatedly, Claude Code keeps writing comments that use hyphens when they should actually be em-dashes. Maybe they’ve trained it to avoid them? ↩︎
I just made myself sad by working this out. I still feel young at heart! … Or maybe that’s cholesterol? ↩︎

Home Automation Without the Megacorps

2025-05-21T00:00:00Z

I first experimented with home automation in 2016, by picking up a Samsung “SmartThings” hub. It was terrible. The UI to configure things was slow and clunky, firmware updates were applied whether you wanted them or not, and everything stopped working if their cloud services stopped. You were also locked into whatever integrations they deigned to support, of course. After that broke for the umpteenth time I scaled back and for years the closest I got to home automation was a couple of Hue bulbs.

Recently I’ve been building it out again, though. This time using off-the-shelf components that interop using Zigbee, open-source software, and some code I wrote myself. It’s great; it runs entirely locally and has had basically zero downtime. The Zigbee ecosystem lets me integrate all sorts of things without having to spend lots of money on “smart” alternatives. I think I’ve spent less on this incarnation than I did on the original SmartThings hub all those years ago (even without adjusting for inflation!).

My current setup

I run everything on a Raspberry Pi 4, with a Sonoff USB Zigbee adapter based on the CC2652P chipset¹. Interfacing with the Zigbee stack is handled by zigbee2mqtt (z2m for short), an open-source project that basically bridges your devices to an MQTT broker². When a device reports some data, it will send a new message over MQTT; when you want to make a device do something you just post a message back. It’s incredibly lightweight, but supports a huge array of devices out of the box. And as it’s just using MQTT, it’s trivial to integrate with other software or build on top of.

I know a lot of people building out this kind of home automation use Home Assistant, but I don’t get on with it terribly well. It felt incredibly sluggish, and the entire project is just a bit… much. I want a binary or package or docker image I can just run, not an entire operating system. That’s not how computers are meant to work! In contrast, z2m is simple to set up, super light weight and responsive.

Anyway. z2m exposes Zigbee devices over MQTT, so I wrote some code in Go to connect to the MQTT broker, and listen to the messages. It’s grown a bit beyond this now, and I’m skipping some boring bits like error handling and JSON parsing, but at first I had something like:

for {
    message, topic, err := c.ReadSlices()
    
    if string(topic) == "zigbee2mqtt/desk-button" {
        if strings.Contains(message, "single") {
            c.Publish(nil, []byte("{\"state\": \"TOGGLE\"}"), "zigbee2mqtt/room-lights/set")
        }
    }
}

I think I actually made this harder to read by trying to simplify it here, but hopefully you can follow that it was relatively straight forward to listen for a particular action to happen (in this case me “single”-pressing on the device called “desk-button”) and then make another device do something in response (toggling the state of the “room-lights” device).

So what actually are these devices? At present in z2m I have the following:

Some generic buttons
An air quality sensor (USB powered), and a separate temperature sensor (battery powered)
A light switch
Some 240V relay modules, that I use to turn non-smart devices on and off
Some USB relay modules, for the same purpose
Some “smart” plugs that I mostly use to monitor power usage
A motorised blind roller

I think all of these are either Tuya or Moes branded, and were all sourced from AliExpress. You can get the same things from Amazon or elsewhere, but they tend to be 3-4x more expensive for the same product.

One of the cool things about Zigbee devices is that the powered ones work together to create a mesh network, so you don’t have to worry about network repeaters or signal strength like you do with Wi-Fi networks. z2m even makes a map showing the connections:

The network map produced by z2m. You can see how all the powered devices form a mesh that the lower power ones can connect to.

Some interesting automations

A Zigbee relay spliced into the power cable for the fan

So what do I actually do with all of this? Some of it is just what I’ll call “laziness automation”: I want to be able to turn on the lights without getting up and walking to the light switch. So there’s a Zigbee button on my desk that does it. Then there are some less manual automations: my blinds are automatically closed at sunset³, for example. It feels a bit trivial, but it’s surprisingly nice just not to have to think about that at all.

Another nice quality of life automation is the light I have above my monitor. It’s USB powered, and I now have it going through a Zigbee USB relay that lets it be toggled on and off. Then I have a small agent running on my desktop that turns the light on when the computer is unlocked, and off when it locks or shuts down. I keep meaning to make a “film mode” that detects when I’m watching a film, and turning all the lights and blinds down, but I haven’t got around to it yet.

The most complex automation is probably for a window fan. It’s not smart in any way, so I cut the power cable and inserted a Zigbee relay. The whole thing is housed in a little project box to keep it secure. The relay basically acts as a switch: the live wire leading to the fan runs to the “normally open”⁴ contact, while the upstream power goes to “common”. When the relay is told to turn the fan on, the two get connected and the fan gets power. Oh, it’s also not actually a window fan, but I designed and 3D printed some adapters so that it sits right in the window.

So now we have a window fan that can be turned off and on automatically. But I don’t want to have to press a button to do that. I’m lazy, remember? Instead, I made it so that the Go code constantly monitors the temperature reported by the air quality sensor, and queries the free OpenWeatherMap API to get the rough temperature outside. It can then turn the fan on if the room is too hot, and outside is cool enough to make a difference (there’s no point in blowing hotter air in!).

A graph of room temperature, showing the effect of the fan being turned on and off

I don’t want it to do that all the time though. The room doesn’t need to be cooled if I’m not around. There are various Zigbee presence sensors you can get, but the cheaper ones seem to be of dubious quality. Instead, I wrote some code to guess whether I’m present. It uses the state of the monitor light as a proxy for “is the computer in use”, and then makes some guesses based on the last time the computer was used and the current time (if I turn the computer off at midnight it probably means I’m going to sleep; if I turn it off at 2pm it probably means I’m going out somewhere).

You can see in the graph that the fan has a decent impact on temperature. I coded it to cool the room to 19 degrees, but then not turn on again until it was above 20. This prevents it flip-flopping on and off constantly. You can clearly see the pattern in the graph, as it actively cools and then slowly the room warms back up. This arrangement is much better than being woken up at 5am because it’s painfully cold. Trust me.

Bonuses: metrics and 3D printer

One of the things my custom Go code does is collate all the various stats reported by the Zigbee devices, and inserts them into a VictoriaMetrics database. I originally hosted this on the Pi itself, and it performed fine, but I’ve since moved it onto a server so that I can use it for some other things as well.

I set up Grafana to point to VM, and can create dashboards showing power usage, what devices are turned on when, and a bunch of environmental conditions. This also makes it easy to spot how good the data coming from the devices are. For example, the air quality sensor reports a figure for the amount of Carbon Dioxide in the air, as well as the amount of Volatile Organic Compounds (VOCs). The graphs are basically identical, but on a different scale. It turns out this particular device has no actual way of detecting CO₂, so it just “calculates” it from the VOCs figure. Useful to know if you want to actually use that data.

Recently I came across a go library for interacting with Bambu Lab printers, so I’ve also hooked that into my automation. It exports metrics about the printer, so I now have a way of seeing what’s going on when I’m not physically present⁵. I even added a HTTP endpoint (exposed over Tailscale) that shows pictures from the built-in camera.

On the automation front, I’ve made it automatically turn off the printer’s light when it finishes a print, and also added push notifications via PushOver whenever the state changes. No longer will I be sat in another room blissfully unaware it ran out of filament seconds after I walked out the door!

Was it worth it?

These days you could probably just buy some kind of ‘smart home’ hub that works well enough, and do most of what I’ve done with a lot less effort and no coding. I’m still of the opinion that for something so essentially local, it should itself be managed entirely locally. I don’t trust companies like Google or Amazon not to kill their products, or change or remove an API I rely on.

Obviously the “Not Invented Here” approach of coding everything yourself doesn’t suit everyone, but as someone who enjoys coding and enjoys having things work just so it works very well for me.

It turns out the chipset is important. I initially used a similar Sonoff dongle that used a CC2531 chipset, and its performance wasn’t great. It often failed to pair with new devices, and dropped links to existing ones. The zigbee2mqtt docs do explicitly advise against the CC2531 chips for that reason. At the time they recommended CC2652Ps, so that’s what I went with. If you’re starting new I’d go with whatever their latest recommendation was. ↩︎
MQTT is basically a network protocol for publishing and subscribing to arbitrary messages. A broker is the thing that sits in the middle and routes the messages. I use Mosquitto but any will do. ↩︎
They originally also re-opened at sunrise but that was a terrible mistake. Who knew the sun rose so early?! ↩︎
“open” meaning “there’s a gap so it doesn’t work” not “open for business”. This confusion in terminology also extends to drawbridges. ↩︎
I use the printer in LAN mode, which means there’s no way to monitor it from a phone, even if you’re connected to the same network still. ↩︎

Further adventures in 3D printing

2024-08-04T00:00:00Z

The Bambu Labs P1S.

Not quite a year ago, I bought a Sovol SV06 3D printer and wrote about my initial experiences. At the end I joked:

I’m sure there will be more problems, but hopefully I get at least a week or so before anything else goes wrong. Maybe I’ll print an “X days since the last SV06 problem” counter…

That turned out to be more prophetic than I expected. It became a running joke that I’d flip the imaginary “days since” sign back to 0 almost every time I printed. I still really enjoyed having a printer, though: it’s so useful to be able to be able to go from an idea to a CAD drawing to a physical object in the space of minutes or hours. So when Bambu Labs reduced the price of the P1S — a printer generally regarded as about as trouble free as you can get — to £522 including shipping, I splurged on one.

Concerns

I make it sound like that was an easy decision, but I actually ummed and ahed a lot before pulling the trigger. I had a lot of objections to a Bambu Labs printer, and wasn’t quite sure if the price made up for them.

The Bambu Labs printers are designed to be more consumer friendly than most previous 3D printers. You can start a model printing directly from their website or mobile app, which employs a cloud-based slicer that then sends the model down to your printer. This is one of those things that sounds amazing for consumers, but should terrify anyone who works with computers. There are so many ways for a “cloud-connected” printer to go wrong, and with such potentially disastrous results it gives me anxiety just thinking about it.

This is not just theoretical, either. In a blog post with the rather under-stated title of “Initial Investigation in the Bambu Cloud Temporary Outage”, Bambu describe how a server-side error caused printers to start printing unprompted. Users on Reddit reported printers starting in the middle of the night, trying to print on top of other objects that were left on the build plate, and so on. 3D printers can easily start fires; having them cloud controlled is frankly insane.

As a result of that “temporary outage”, Bambu further improved the “LAN mode” for their printers, which allows you to sever its connection from their servers and control it over the network. That’s basically how my old printer worked anyway, so I was happy enough that I could enable LAN mode and ignore all the cloud nonsense.

My other objection to Bambu was more nebulous. Almost all 3D printers are built upon open source software, and some companies like Prusa go out of their way to make their products more open to give back to the community. Bambu don’t really do any of that: I’d be very surprised if they hadn’t incorporated a bunch of open source software into their printers and just ignored the licences¹. I’d much rather give my money to a company doing good, but the only equivalent printer was the Prusa MK4 which was double the price and didn’t come with an enclosure. To add an enclosure kit would have made it £800 more expensive than the P1S, and I just can’t justify that.

Experience

The initial setup of the P1S was a breeze. While the SV06 shipped in parts, the P1S came fully assembled and just needed some packaging and retaining screws removed. These were all clearly marked with large coloured arrows. It’s very much designed so anyone can do it.

I ran through the initial calibration, firmware update, and then put it in LAN mode. Then I just started printing and it went fine. No messing around levelling a bed, or using a sheet of paper to try and set the Z-offset properly; it just worked. It was really loud though. After talking a bit with a friend who’d also bought a P1S, I realised that most of his noise was from the fans, while most of mine was from the servos. A bit of research later and I found out they added servo noise compensation in a firmware update, but I hadn’t run the calibration for it because the initial calibration happened before the update. After doing that, the printer went from sounding like it was impersonating a continental police siren to just being a bit fan-y.

The biggest difference over the SV06 is the speed. I’d swapped the nozzle on the SV06 to a 0.6mm one, and generally printed at a layer height of 0.4mm. The P1S still has its 0.4mm nozzle, and I mostly print at a layer height of 0.2mm. So it’s laying down twice the number of layers, with a nozzle that can extrude half the amount of plastic… And it’s at least twice as fast! Prints that I previously wouldn’t have even attempted on the SV06 are now 8-10 hours on the P1S, without even adjusting the speed or lowering the quality. Here’s a side-by-side comparison:

P1S vs SV06.

The P1S can print eight objects because of its slightly larger bed, while the SV06 can only manage three. The P1S is also printing at a much higher quality. Yet somehow it still ends up being faster. It’s mind blowing.

The other big difference I’ve not mentioned yet is that the P1S is a “core XY” printer rather than a “bed slinger”. That means in order to move along the Y-axis (from the front of the bed to the back), the P1S moves the extruder while the SV06 moves the bed. This makes a big difference when printing tall objects, as they’re far more likely to wobble and come loose when the bed is moving back and forth. It also presumably makes the kinematics a lot easier as the mass of the moving parts is constant, instead of gradually becoming heavier as more and more plastic gets added.

The only failures

I’ve only had a handful of failures since getting the P1S. I had one weird issue where the slicer decided to print some parts extremely slowly, and the print just didn’t work out in those parts; that’s more of a slicer issue, though: after tweaking the model to stop the weird behaviour it printed fine.

The only failure I can directly attribute to the printer was when I tried ironing. This is a process where after printing the top layer, the printer slowly goes back over it at the same height while extruding a small amount of plastic. This is meant to fill in the small gaps between extrusions and give a smooth finish. In my case, though, it just clogged the nozzle and extruder.

At first I thought it was because I was printing too hot: the profile I was using was designed for fast printing, so had to melt the filament rapidly, but there was no way to turn that temperature down just for the ironing pass. I tried another run at a lower temperature and everything clogged again. I then swore off ironing, did a normal print, and everything clogged once more.

At this point I was getting exceedingly good at disassembling the hot end, but also fairly annoyed. It felt like I was using an SV06 again²! I’d previously read some recommendations that you should leave the door or top of the enclosure open when printing PLA, but had never really had any issues so hadn’t bothered. I tried a print with the top propped open and everything worked smoothly again. In hindsight all these clogging issues happened when it was particularly hot and humid outside, which was probably a factor.

Summary

Upgrading to the P1S has made the 3D printer feel more like a tool and less like an additional ongoing project. The speed increase continues to amaze me, as does the increase in quality.

I still think it was valuable to have the SV06 to learn how printers work — you definitely don’t get as much of that from using something so consumer-focused as the P1S — and figure out if I was actually going to use it long-term or whether it was just a fad for me. So it served its purpose, but I’m rather glad to see the back of it in favour of something better in pretty much every way.

And if they did there’s nothing anyone can do about it because copyright doesn’t exist in the same way in China. ↩︎
Although taking apart the P1S (which is a proprietary machine you might not expect to be very user-servicable) was orders of magnitude easier than taking apart the SV06 (which was an open source design). Everything is just much nicer: the connectors are easier to attach and detach, the screws are all a consistent size instead of needing a whole suite of allen keys, and so on. ↩︎

A year of boardgames

2024-07-26T00:00:00Z

I realised the other day that it’s a little over a year since I started building out a collection of board games¹, and thought it’d be fun to go through the collection and what I think about the games in hindsight.

The beginning

Ticket to Ride: Europe

I don’t remember how I discovered the concept of “modern” boardgames, but just over a year ago I purchased Ticket to Ride: Europe as my first. Prior to that I thought board games were like Scrabble, Monopoly, Trivial Pursuit, etc: they might provide a distraction occasionally, but didn’t amount to actual fun in the same way a video game might. I’d characterise those “classic” games as generally being extremely dependent on luck, not presenting many interesting choices, and generally being punishing if you’re behind.²

Ticket to Ride came as a breath of fresh air. You get to decide where to route your lines, whether you want to take on more cards, how aggressive to be in blocking the other players, and more. There’s still some luck involved, but it’s managed by being able to draw from a pool of visible cards, or being able to select which route cards you keep.

Shortly after I also picked up Carcassonne, and was similarly enamoured. I’ve not played either of them recently, though: they both fall into a weird little gap for me. While I enjoy the games, I don’t like playing them with certain groups³, but I don’t love them enough to prioritise them over other games when playing with other groups.

Pandemic

The next “gateway” game I picked up was Pandemic, which was my first co-operative game. I loved everything about it, and still do. The feeling when you managed to claw back a victory after setback after setback is great, but so is the shock when everything goes even worse than you thought possible!

Pandemic was also the first game where one of the mechanics caught my attention. The way epidemics work is that you take the bottom card from the infection deck, which becomes the center of the new outbreak, then shuffle that and all the discards back onto the top of the deck. It sounds simple, but it has big implications: everywhere that was previously infected can now be re-infected, and you’re guaranteed some tense rounds while you work back through those cards. It still blows my mind a little how shuffling and re-adding some card can mix up the game so much.

I still play Pandemic when I can, and it generally has a spot in my board game bag when I’m going away. I’ve since picked up the On the Brink expansion which adds some fun new twists⁴ to the base game, and Pandemic: Hotzone – Europe which plays similarly but is a bit quicker and smaller. I’ve also recently ordered Iberia, but it hasn’t materialised yet.

More gateway games

The Quacks of Quedlinburg

Over the next few months I picked up The Quacks of Quedlinburg, Azul (the mini variant), and Splendor. Quacks is probably my least favourite out of all the games so far: it’s not terrible, but it straddles deck-building and push-your-luck in a way that I don’t find particularly satisfying. It’s fun to play the combos you’ve invested in, and it’s fun to try and push your luck, but it’s not really fun when failing at the luck element means you don’t get to use the stuff you were building.

Quacks does bear the distinction of being the first game I customised, though: it got a little plastic organiser to hold all the ingredients instead of having to sort through a massive plastic bag with them all mixed in. My appreciation for game boxes with good built-in storage has gradually increased over the year, as have the tools I have for fixing those that don’t. But we’ll get back to that…

Azul is fun when you’re in the right mood; I’m not terribly into abstract strategy games, but Azul is light enough that it’s enjoyable. Splendor, on the other hand, I really like. So much so that I wrote a digital re-implementation of it. Both Azul and Splendor allow you to mess with your opponent a little, but not too much, which keeps it interesting but also means it still plays well in groups that don’t like too much head-on confrontation.⁵

I think the thing that really caught my attention in Splendor, though, is the quasi-engine building you do. It’s not actually classed as an engine builder on BoardGameGeek, but as you collect cards you get discounts on other cards, which lets you get better cards and further discounts, and so on. I love that kind of positive feedback loop in video games, and I apparently love it in board games as well.

Terraforming Mars

A recent game of Terraforming Mars

I’d heard lots of good things about Terraforming Mars, but I was worried it sounded a bit too complicated so put off buying it for a while. I mean, its weight on BoardGameGeek is orange. That’s scary, right?! Well… no. Terraforming Mars is easily my favourite board game, and I’ve played it pretty consistently since buying it. It has such a huge stock of cards that no two games feel the same: one game you might have an arsenal of cards that generate and use microbes; another you might have a plethora of science tags that let you play some of the most powerful project cards; next you might be spamming forests on Mars, or drowning in credits because you have too much income. It has the engine building element that I love, but I also really enjoy that it’s not always obvious who’s doing well and who’s not until the final score is tallied; that keeps everyone engaged and working on things for the entire game.

I’ve added in the Prelude expansion, which I wouldn’t play the game without now, and the Venus Next expansion, which adds some interesting bits but is nowhere close to being a hard requirement. I’ll probably pick up Colonies next. Prelude adds a new type of card that you take at the start of the game, which gives you a fairly hefty boost; these help you get off to a faster start, and may also affect what strategies you try to run with for the rest of the game. Venus Next adds another resource track, but you don’t have to complete it to end the game; it also adds a bunch of project cards that have “floater” resources, but they don’t feel that much different to the base game microbes⁶. One interesting thing that Venus Next adds, though, is a “solar phase” where one of the global parameters is increased at the end of each generation. The active player decides which parameter, but gets none of the benefits for it, so you get to decide entirely tactically.

There are two drawbacks to Terraforming Mars: it’s a little lengthy, and some of the components are a bit rubbish. Timing-wise, I find it takes a good hour and a half for a two player game, while adding a third player can almost double that. Obviously it depends who you’re playing with and what’s happening in the game, but that’s enough of a commitment that you more-or-less have to plan when to play instead of just spontaneously bringing it to the table. Component-wise, the game comes with basically no storage for anything other than little plastic bags that slosh around in the box; horrible plastic cubes for resource tracking that somehow jump out of your hand constantly, and flimsy printed sheets for putting those cubes on.

My custom player boards

The reason I got a 3D printer was in part so that I could make my own upgraded player boards that actually held the pieces in place instead of letting them fly everywhere if the table was slightly knocked. You can buy third party ones but I figured it was a teach-a-man-to-fish kind of situation, and dropping £200 on a 3D printer would save me money in the long run vs buying £50 of player boards someone else had made.⁷ About seven versions later, I have some boards which I think look and feel great. It’s 3D printed in two halves, then has a laminated 2D print sandwiched in the middle for all the markings and artwork.

As well as the player mats, I 3D printed some boxes, card holders, and so on, but have since replaced them with an insert from Folded Space. These are made of foam, and are perfectly sized to the game box and all the components in it. I could have eventually got to that point with 3D prints, but it would have taken a lot of time to design and print everything. Terraforming Mars was also the game that I first sleeved, as trying to shuffle the huge decks was an exercise in frustration. With all of the cards sleeved, not only are they more protected against wear and tear, you can now shuffle the deck just by gently mashing stacks of cards together. It makes shuffling so easy I now sleeve basically all my games as I hate having to riffle shuffle unsleeved cards.

Marrakech and HeroQuest

Later in the year I bought Marrakech after playing a giant version of it at a games expo. It sits somewhere between Azul and Splendor for me: it’s fun, and good when you want a short game, but it’s not high enough on my list to want to take it away with me. Playing with felt rugs does make a nice change from flipping cards or dealing with plastic components, though.

I also picked up HeroQuest at one point when it was on offer. It’s a good concept, and I felt like I would like it, but it was a bit of a let-down. The biggest problem for me is that you either need one player to basically be the DM, and manage the board, or you use an app to do that and have to deal with a bunch of admin and duplicating things because you’re half playing on the board and half in the app. I also don’t like relying on an app because I’ve been around long enough to know how easily computer software can become defunct, get removed from stores, get “updated” to remove features you need, and so on. I feel like the game would work well with five people: one to DM, and four to control the four heroes. But if you’ve got five people who want to play a dungeon crawler why aren’t you just playing D&D or a similar TTRPG? I’ll probably sell this at some point.

Party games

Codenames

These are all smaller games, and with most of them I’d played them before and decided I wanted my own copy. Codenames is my favourite party game, and I also picked up Codenames: Duet and they now live in the same box with a nice 3D printed insert. Codenames seems to just naturally produce fun moments: when an obscure clue is understood completely it feels amazing, but when it’s totally misunderstood it’s also generally hilarious. There’s also a great tension as the spymaster when you give a clue, then immediately realise it can be misinterpreted in a way that points straight at the assassin.

Poetry for Neanderthals is fun in the same party-word-game sort of way, but basically has no replayability. There are few enough cards that if you play a few times you can remember the “harder” word and just immediately guess it once you get the “easier” one being hinted (you can also sometimes just do this outright, which feels great but it kind of sucks from a gameplay point of view). The best bits are the inflatable “no stick” you get to bop people with, and how everyone speaks like a neanderthal for a little bit out of habit even after the game has ended. I seem to be weirdly good at this game, and I’m not sure what that says about me.

Love Letter has to take the spot of best game per cubic centimeter. It’s basically just a small set of cards, but it enables some really fun emergent gameplay. I really love how small the game is, and how easy it is to set up and play. It’s the perfect time filler. I’ve also played Lovecraft Letter, which adds a lot more complexity and was great fun, but is sadly out of print and I haven’t been able to find a copy at a sensible price.

Fluxx

Star Trek mega-Fluxx

My arbitrary 12 month period ends not long after I went to a tabletop event and played, amongst other things, Cthulu Fluxx, Doctor Who Fluxx, and Star Trek: The Next Generation Fluxx. Each game has the same core Fluxx elements, but adds slight twists along with the unique themes. I ordered a copy of Star Fluxx, but then found out that you can combine the four Star Trek variants (TOS, TNG, DS9 and VOY) together with some expansions to make a mega game so ordered all of those as well. While putting together my mega-Fluxx order I noticed they had a Firefly Fluxx that was out of print so I snapped up one of the last copies of that, too.

I ordered most of the games direct from Looney Labs, as the out of print ones weren’t readily available anywhere else. Unfortunately, UK Border Force managed to misread the import label⁸ and demanded £300 of VAT and import duties on them! They refunded it eventually, but this small set of tiny games were for a little while the most expensive things in my collection.

Fluxx is fun enough, but the mega-deck version is brilliant. It gets much more chaotic, with multiple captains, teleporters, and other doodads in play to steal cards back and forth. I was worried it wouldn’t play well with non-Trekkies, but the cards from each series use a different font and the weird people that can’t identify Star Trek series based on uniform variations seem happy enough relying on that.

Future

A few more months have passed since then, and my collection is still growing. Board game stores have summer sales, it turns out! If my physical wallet was in any way involved in the purchasing flow I’m sure it’d be crying.

I’ve recently started logging my plays with BG Stats (which synchronises the information up to Board Game Geek). I’m interested to see if the hard numbers actually align with my conceptions of how often I play certain games. If I do another roundup in a year’s time, expect it to have a lot more stats in…

Other words that may be appropriate here: “hoarding”; “compulsively obtaining”; “spending all my money on”, etc ↩︎
Think about a game of Monopoly: what do you actually get to decide? It basically comes down to “buy or not” if you land on an available property, then later on “buy more houses or not”. ↩︎
e.g. a family member doesn’t like the farmer mechanic in Carcassonne, and I don’t find the game interesting enough without them. Nothing wrong with the game or the people, we’re just not going to both enjoy it the way we like when playing together. ↩︎
Which is definitely why I bought it. Not because it comes with amazing little petri dishes to keep the disease cubes in. Certainly not. ↩︎
There’s a different edge to taking a card that someone else wanted in Splendor — there’s twelve others they can pick from, or they can take a face down one, etc; it might be an inconvenience but you haven’t totally upended their plans — versus blocking a really long train line they were trying to build in Ticket to Ride. ↩︎
Floaters are meant to be big pieces of infrastructure that float in the atmosphere of Venus. The fact that they feel exactly the same way as tiny little microbes when played seems wrong. ↩︎
Having since bought a more expensive printer, I think I’m past the point of convincing myself it’s “cheaper”. It’s a lot more fun, though, and if you design parts yourself you end up with exactly what you want! ↩︎
Turns out the “weight (lbs)” column is not the “quantity” column. Who knew? ↩︎

Project log: Filament weight display

2023-12-03T00:00:00Z

The finished project

One problem¹ I have when 3D printing is that it’s hard to gauge whether there’s enough filament left on a roll to complete a print. Sometimes it’s obvious when the print is small or the roll is full, but often it’s not. If I’m unsure about it, I end up obsessing over the printer instead of just leaving it to do its thing.

The typical approach to this problem is to use a run-out sensor, which stops the printer when it detects that the filament is no longer running through it. I’d rather know in advance though: it’s no good stopping the print if I’m making something that has to look nice and now half of it is one colour and the remainder will be something else.

While browsing around for ideas, I came across a project that used a load cell to measure the weight of the filament roll². I didn’t really know what a load cell was, but decided to do some research and see if I could build my own. I didn’t actually read the article I found, intending to figure things out on my own if I could.

Load Cells 101

A load cell, its amplifier, and some random headers

At the heart of the project is a load cell. It turns out these are the things that do the lifting in most electronic scales. They’re basically a carefully machined metal bar with a strain gauge attached to it. The strain gauge is a long trace of conductive material that runs back and forth across the middle of the bar. When the bar bends very slightly (due to load), the conductor flexes with it and gets longer or shorter; that flex changes its resistance by a tiny amount, which can be measured using a Wheatstone bridge.

The Wheatstone bridge is a diamond of resistors, and requires an ’excitation’ voltage to be applied across it in one direction, and the resistance is then read from the perpendicular pair. As the resistance is tiny, and the changes even more tiny, you generally need an amplifier to read it and output something more useful. The HX711 is such an amplifier, and is so ubiquitous that most places that sell load cells will just bundle one with it.

The HX711 connects to the load cell using four wires: two for the excitation voltage, and two for the output. On the other end it takes a 5V input, ground, and then has two pins to deal with the onward communication: one for a clock signal, and one for data. We’ll get back to that later!

Early prototyping

The prototype, mid-debugging

I decided early on to base the project around an RP2040-based board, as I had previous experience with them and they’re cheap and easy to get hold of. I started off with a Raspberry Pi Pico, slotted it into a breadboard, and connected it to the HX711. A short search produced three or so different python libraries, but I couldn’t get any of them to work reliably.

If you look at the picture of the prototype, you’ll notice a large bundle of wires to the left. These are connected to a logic analyser I bought to try and understand what on earth was happening, because it seemed like the code should work, and there was definitely some communication with the HX711 happening, but none of the readings made any sense.

At one point I noticed that moving my head near to the Pico caused the readings to change, but I didn’t understand the implication of that³. I went to bed unable to figure out what was going on, and just before I dozed off realised that I must have the pins configured wrong. The next day I checked the spec sheet and discovered that the pin with the number “1” silk-screened next to it is in fact GPIO 0, not GPIO 1⁴. The pin the Pico was trying to read data from wasn’t actually connected to anything, which is why waving my hand near it was enough to induce a signal.

Updating the code to use the correct pins made everything work much better and I started to get sensible readings. At this point I came across the RP2040-Zero by Waveshare, which is not only a smaller, cuter, cheaper Pico, but has silk-screened numbers that actually match the GPIO pin numbers (plus an actual a reset button!). I immediately bought several, and switched the prototype over as soon as they arrived.

The rest of the prototyping was reasonably uneventful. I used a little OLED screen I had sitting around from a past Ali Express order, and once again there were several python libraries to handle it. Soon enough I had raw weight readings from the load cell (which was stuck to my desk with painters’ tape) being displayed on the screen.

The load cells don’t measure absolute weight, so you have to “calibrate” them by remembering the reading when there is no load, and then applying a scaling factor to turn the raw reading into a weight. I worked these out by putting a known weight on the business end of the load cell, and then hard-coding the numbers.

An interruption to deal with interrupts

One thing I noticed with the MicroPython libraries for the HX711 is that they relied on polling the data pin to see if there was any data to read. The way the HX711 communicates is by pulling the data line low when it has data; you then have to pulse the clock line to get it to shift a bit of the reading out over the data line. The HX711 I have operates at 10Hz by default⁵, and reading the data takes almost no time at all, so the most “efficient” thing to do is to sleep for 100ms between readings.

This is fine if you’re not doing anything else, but gets awkward if you also want to refresh a screen at certain points, or check for button inputs, etc. It also upset me to see the data line being low for so long when viewing the logic analyser traces. The RP2040 supports setting interrupts on the GPIO pins, but I couldn’t find anyone who was actually using them for the HX711.

I therefore did the only sensible thing: wrote my own library, using interrupts to monitor for data availability. It was pretty straightforward, but didn’t actually work consistently. Looking more closely at the other libraries, they all do something to try to increase the speed at which the clock signals are written⁶: some were disabling interrupts, others were using assembly. I, again, did the only sensible thing: I threw all the python away and wrote a new driver in TinyGo.

My new code is event driven: it adds interrupts for button presses, and one for the HX711 data line. When the data line is pulled low, it removes that interrupt (so it doesn’t fire for every bit of data we receive), does the reading logic, then re-adds the interrupt. Theoretically if you spam buttons at an inopportune time you could mess up a reading, but the reading 100ms after would be fine. So my code spends most of the time idle, which translates to very little power draw.

User experience

While prototyping I was using some standard small push buttons to navigate the user interface I was creating. I soon realised that if I needed to enter weights on the real device I wasn’t going to be happy poking an annoying little button hundreds of times, and I didn’t feel like coding anything more elaborate to make input easier. Instead, I switched to using a rotary encoder. This is a bit like a variable resistor, but it can rotate completely freely, and sends a signal when it’s turned. It also has a button built in, so you can press it down to select things.

It took me a while to get the hang of the rotary encoder: it has two data pins for turning, and you have to wait for a falling edge on one pin and then immediately read the other to figure out which way it’s turning. My initial attempts at doing this weren’t quite immediate enough⁷, so I ended up with somewhat random data. Trying to select a number when going right sometimes increases it and sometimes decreases it is an exercise in frustration.

The correctly functioning rotary encoder makes it much easier to input numbers and change settings. I ended up with a very simple menu system at the bottom of the screen which lets you cycle between three options: setting the spool weight, zeroing the scale, and calibrating it. Zeroing is the most straightforward option: it simply reads the current value, and saves it as the zero offset in the flash memory. Selecting spool weight enters a mode where turning the rotary encoder increases or decreases the spool weight by a gram at a time; pressing the encoder in saves the value to flash and exits the mode⁸.

Calibration is a bit more confusing. Changing the spool weight changes the value you see on the screen directly and predictably. Calibration instead affects the “scale” value you can’t actually see; you just see the effect of the scaling on the weight reading. Still, if you have a known weight on the scale you simply rotate the encoder until the right weight is displayed on the screen. Pressing the encoder saves the value to flash as with the other modes.

Putting it together

The final assembly

The final step was to assemble everything in a way where it would be usable, and wires wouldn’t keep falling out whenever you looked at it. I found some cute little prototype boards that would just about fit all the components on – I left the OLED screen and rotary encoder off so they could be mounted to the front of the box.

I obviously 3D printed the enclosure, because I own a 3D printer and therefore spend a lot of my time 3D printing parts for my 3D printer. In my first prototype I put raised areas on the back panel and put some heat-press inserts in them, intending to screw down the protoboard. The screw holes I was going to use, however, were underneath the soldered-down RP2040-Zero and HX711. I instead uninserted the inserts and simply put some screws through the back panel with the intention of slotting nuts under the components. This turned out to be both incredibly annoying and entirely unnecessary; the board sits at the back of the box on its own, and there’s no real danger from it having a bit of freedom.

While I was prototyping I was powering the circuit from the USB port on the microcontroller, but for the actual unit I added a buck converter and ran a cable from the 3D printer’s power supply (which outputs 24V). This has the handy side effect of turning the scale on and off with the printer. I’ve recently bought a bench power supply, which made testing this part a lot easier: being able to dial in a voltage and current limit and then just plug things in is great.

The other thing that needed to change between my prototype and the final version was the load cell. It needed to be attached to the printer in such a way that one end bore all the weight of the spool (and, you know, not stuck to my desk with painters’ tape). I was originally going to do something fancy with bearings, but settled on the easier option of a spool holder which uses the same threading as the original, so it slots straight in:

The load cell mounted as part of a spool holder on the printer.

With all of this done, I invented a complicated mounting system to keep it attached to the printer. Any resemblance to blue painters’ tape is entirely coincidental.

Bill of materials and sources

Here are the major components that I ended up using:

Part	Source	Cost
RP2040-Zero microcontroller	WaveShare	£3.15
5KG load cell + HX711	AliExpress	£1.89
Buck converter	AliExpress	£0.51
SH1106 OLED module	AliExpress	£1.70
Rotary encoder	AliExpress	£0.80
Mini PCB prototype board	Amazon	£1.49

Where things come in packs of more than one, I’ve listed the cost of one unit. I’ve not included things like wires, connectors, or the filament used in printing the enclosure as you can use whatever you have to hand.

The source code I wrote is available on GitHub, and the designs for the 3D printed parts are shared in OnShape.

Among many, many others, of course. ↩︎
I can’t actually find where I saw this original project now, but there are quite a few kicking around if you search. ↩︎
This happened at about 1am and I was tired and frustrated. That’s my excuse, anyway. ↩︎
At this point I realised I’d made the exact same mistake the last time I used a Pico. Fool me once, etc. ↩︎
You can change this to 80Hz by resoldering a resistor on the board, but 10Hz is already several orders of magnitude faster than I actually need. ↩︎
If the clock signal stays high for longer than 60ms it’s treated as a shutdown signal by the HX711. This is somewhat unideal when you’re trying to read data from it. ↩︎
Because of my very clever interrupt system. I wanted to do as little work in the interrupt handler as possible, so I was just enqueuing an event to be processed in the main loop. This introduced enough delay that I wasn’t reading the second pin at the right time. The solution was to read the pin in the interrupt handler and then just enqueue a “left” or “right” event instead of my original “turning somehow, you figure it out” event. ↩︎
I was initially planning on hard-coding the weights for all the spools I’m likely to use, and just having a way to switch between them. But the thought of having to re-flash the device every time I bought a new type of filament made me reconsider. Plus, it was way easier to not do that. ↩︎