''You are obviously all over it. '' I can't help that. I really can't help it, honestly, I'd have no idea how to even TRY not to be as you put it, 'all over it'
Wish I could get to study formally though, take some classes beyond all I got, which was in the first of my two secondary schools, getting to watch a teacher drop a droplet of iodine tincture on a potato from a great distance, never let anywhere near it, and who knew nothing about how that worked. And the second school, better classes but got cheated out of getting to do the higher tier GCSE exam paper. I do take some small measure of pride in taking the paper and spitting the results in physics, bio and chem right back in their face. Got the best results the school had ever had apparently. Although I am still to this day, absolutely MORTIFIED, that I missed a single question (I got the formula for hydrogen carbonate wrong, and accidentally read it as, and accordingly wrote carbonate formula instead. Every other question on the three papers, I got.
But other than that, I've no formal education beyond that second secondary school. THE first one? that iodine drop was THE chemistry class. For my entire time at that school.
After that day, after being insulted by such a miserably halfarsed attempt, I ended up spending days and days and days picking cherry blossom from trees and carting the bunches round street to street, knocking on doors, offering flowers for sale, so I could raise enough money to buy some more 98% sulfuric, all the iodine tincture the pharmacies would sell me, and after converting the KI content to more iodine with acid and oxidizer, and meticulously distilling off the alcohol and the water content with an improvized micro-still then resubliming the iodine on a jerry-rigged coldfinger trap. Unfortunately I did not know at that age, having only ever read of the USES of iodine, and not anything about volatility, the fruits of my labours, all my work, that I spent days going round the streets to earn the money to buy the reagents and after getting back from the school and back home, I'd spent all damn rest of the day, evening and all night without sleep getting that distillation done, drying, subliming and resubliming that iodine, only to go to school, spend all day distracted and itching to get back to the bench and go do things with my hard-won iodine, and then find it had gone and evaporated all over inside my reagent storage cupboard, staining the bejeezis out of the interior and leaving brown stains all over many of my reagent bottles, at least those that were not glass.
I look back and laugh at that kiddie's fumbling and boyish mistake, now. But at the time I was absolutely...errrm I am not quite sure what I was. Horrified, gutted, mortified, and, especially at being cheated out of the methyl iodide I was dying to make from it, busily fuming worse than had I opened my thionyl chloride and sluiced the entire bottle over the benchtop then sprayed it continuously with one of those fine mist plant sprayers full of water.
Now its kinda funny, considering all I need do go and open the door, pick up the tub and take out as much I2 as I could want. Contrasted with the massive effort I went to, doing things like that, and electrowinning sodium and potassium from their molten hydroxides with a blowtorch, and carbon electrodes hacked out of batteries, slaving and slaving and slaving away for moderate quantities, as a child, yet now I can do a proper job of it if I want to do it myself, looking back on how little I knew at very first, starting up, and having to learn from scratch, replicating as best I could the experiments of various scientists of history and their processes of discovery, with just the raw basic outline of what they did (I.e things like 'an electric current was passed through molten caustic potash') without the slightest bit of fine detail. Yet now, I've the benefit of most of a lifetime of experience under my belt.
My start, very first start was in mycology though. According to my grandfather on my mother's side, was talking to him on the phone recently after my mom kicked the bucket, and he started talking to me about how I'd taught myself to read at age between 2 and 3 using my copy of Phillips' mushroom field-guide, and getting taken out on hikes through the woods and forests and one of my favourites of all, the yorkshire moors where my granny used to live before she died, up in settle (theres some really good waxcap grasslands there, some of the hills near a little back-track called watery lane, where theres a really steep but wooded hillside that adjoins on to the actual grasslands, found ceps up in there, big ones too, and once, a devil's bolete, which are seriously, seriously rare. Not a one you want to eat though, they are toxic, and they fucking stink something hideous, like rotting meat, acrid, with a hint of aminey-fishyness although mostly its more putrescine-ey, pyridine-ey. But absolutely vile when they get mature. And the grassland right near watery lane, got some great places to pick scarlet hood waxcaps, scarlet waxcaps (two different species, both absolutely delectable eating) and Camaryllophylus pratensis, the meadow waxcap, much larger than most, the Hygrocybes, and Hygrophorus species.
Went back up there too the other year, and got a big bag of all three of those species, and had me a few really good meals, sausage, fried eggs, bacon, chips and beans and fried scarlet hoods/scarlet waxcaps/meadow Camaryllophyllus-es. Was delish:D. Odd thing is I loathe those repulsive Agaricus one sees on offer as white button mushrooms, brown caps, portobellos etc. Repugnant little fuckers, except in chilli con carne.
Oops..yeah, my granddad...lol he was telling me that they used to take me, but really he thought I was taking THEM, because I used to point out all the different species and the ones I'd recently learned about, taking even poisonous ones home, to identify, and explaining things like toxic principles and their modes of action. I sometimes can't help but laugh at me as a kid.
I wish I could have a chance at eventually going to uni. But I don't see it happening. I don't have the grades. And being an autodidact probably counts for jack and a bowl of cornflakes covered in my own shit. With a spoonful of sugar on top.