Strontium Carbonate to Strontium Chloride (w/ everyday materials)

Thanks to Matt Crook for his error-checking and information.

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Suppose you want to make a red flame like the one on the right…

…but you can’t find a vendor for strontium chloride (I couldn’t) and you don’t want to spend in excess of $20 for lithium chloride (I didn’t). For a few bucks, you can get some strontium carbonate ($3.47/lb from skylighter.com) and easily convert it to strontium chloride.

Here’s how.

How to make strontium chloride from strontium carbonate

Tip: Use glass vessels and glass stirring implements because they are non-reactive.

Combine equal parts by weight strontium carbonate and muriatic acid (obtainable at any pool supply store).  This assumes a ~33% solution of muriatic acid.

Tip: Don’t have scale? Find yourself a postage scale or a small kitchen scale (for baking).

Tip: What if your solution has a different concentration? Either do the math (explained later) to calculate a new ratio or else dilute your acid to ~33%.

Add the two reagents gradually because they will release energy. They’ll bubble and fizz and heat up. They could bubble over your container if you’re not careful.

Let the reaction between muriatic acid and strontium carbonate run it’s course (may require some stirring). Then let the fluid evaporate. What you’re left with is strontium chloride.

Tip: If you err on the side of too much HCl, it should be okay. It should evaporate. If you err on the side of too much strontium carbonate, it will be safe, but you’ll end up with some carbonate impurity in your chloride. This should not impair your flame colour appreciably.

To get the flame, you might dissolve your strontium chloride in enough methanol so that there are no sediments. Then light the methanol on fire.

The science behind it

Yes, strontium carbonate is preferred for pyrotechnics, but as tressure points out in this chemistry thread, it won’t yield a red flame in methanol. (I expect it requires much greater heat, such as fireworks can produce.) His advice, like mine, is to convert it to the chloride.

First thing to know: muriatic acid is hydrochloric acid (HCl), so the reaction we aim to produce is as follows.

SrCO3 + 2HCl -> SrCl2 + H2O + CO2

The formula says that we need twice as many HCl molecules (molecular weight: 36.46 g/mol) as SrCO3 (molecular weight: 147.63 g/mol). By weight, then we need twice as much SrCO3 as solid HCl (the exact opposite of the molarity ratio: 147.63 / (36.46 * 2) = 2.02).

As mentioned above, however, you’ll probably buy HCl in a stock solution, rather than measuring out a solid and diluting it yourself. I had a 31.45% solution by weight on hand. Water weighs half as much as the acid solute:

H2O molecular weight = 18.02 g/mol
HCl molecular weight = 36.46 g/mol

So in a mix that’s close to 33%, half the molecules are HCl, and half are H2O. That being the case, 10 g of the acid solution has 5 g of HCl and can be mixed with 10 g of SrCO3. I.e. you can mix equal parts by weight of the HCl solution and SrCO3.

Matt went so far as to calculate the enthalpies (the energy required or released) for this reaction and posted them on the Psandboxi at the Pedestrian site (29 Oct 2011). He was right, of course: it was slightly exothermic.


Yes, I spelled ‘Psandbox’ correctly. That’s how it was spelled by whoever set it up (must have been Matt or Jonathan).

Debunked: 666 & www = Bad Numerology

If you type “www means” into a Google search bar, the first suggestion will be “www means 666.” It must be a popular belief, but it is easily and quickly debunked.

The short answer is that the www-means-666 theory requires the number six hundred sixty-six to be broken down into three sixes, but none of the numbering systems which John the revelator might have used permits this.

The premise: how 666 = www

We’re all familiar with ciphers that equate numbers with letters, for example, A = 1, B = 2, C = 3, etc. In the Hebrew alphabet, the sixth letter is “ו” (vau). With very little imagination, we can put three sixes together to get “ווו” or “vvv.” There is no [w] phoneme in Hebrew, so our “w” is written with the Hebrew vau. Ergo, 666 equals www.

For ease of reference later, will call this postulate the “letters-of-the-beast argument.” On to debunking, then…

Using Arabic numerals in the Roman Empire

The number recorded in Rev 13:18 is six hundred and sixty-six. If we render this number using Arabic numerals, we get 666, which is easy to visualize as a series of three sixes, but in a different numbering system (we’ll look at Aegean, Herodianic, Roman, & Hebrew), it makes no sense at all to equate 666 with {6, 6, 6}.

The possibility that John used Arabic numerals in his book is miniscule. Our Arabic numerals were disseminated into the Middle East from India thanks primarily to the works of Al-Khwarizmi and Al-Kindi, mathematicians who both date in the 9th century A.D.

What number system did John use then? Well, Judaea fell to Greece about 300 years before Christ. If John had written in the Greek tradition, he might have used Herodianic (Attic) numerals or Aegean numerals, neither of which is convenient to render here, but the essential aspects can be described: With Aegean numerals, 666 can be rendered with three digits. However, these three digits cannot be split into 6, 6, and 6, as with Arabic numerals; rather, the written number must be split into 600, 60, and 6. The Herodianic number would have looked something like this ?Η?ΔΠΙ (with composites of pi in place of the question marks). Again, no series of sixes can be derived.

Judea then fell to Rome about 40 years before Christ. If John had used Roman numerals, he’d have written DCLXVI. It may not be significant, but this representation consists of every Roman numeral under 1000 appearing exactly once, in descending order. (The same may be said in the case of Herodianic numerals, but it is less remarkable in the latter case since two of the numerals in the Herodianic representation are composite characters.)

If John had used the ancient Hebrew number system, he would have written תרסו. Phonetically, these characters don’t equate to www or even vvv but rather “trsv.”

Using Hebrew letters in a Greek book

Although the original manuscript no longer exists, we rely that John wrote the book of Revelation in Greek. Oddly, the letters-of-the-beast argument requires that we match the three sixes against Hebrew letters, not Greek. Greek would have made more sense.

The sixth letter in the Greek alphabet is Ζ (zeta), whose (Classical) phoneme is disputed, but is either [dz] or [zd], not [v].

What did John actually mean?

The prevailing supposition among scholars is that the numerical value of the beast’s name is 666. Long-standing numerological traditions for calculating numerical values of words, names, and phrases are known for Greek, Hebrew, and other languages.

For discussion of the Greek numerology (isopsephy) and the Hebrew numerology (gematria), see the post on Greek and Hebrew numerologies (probably to be posted later this month).

Further errors in the letters-of-the-beast postulate

The following logical holes in the letters-of-the-beast argument are unnecessary, but if you have the patience to continue entertaining the idea that www can equate to an Arabic “666,” you might enjoy the following items.

Splitting along digits limits alphabet to nine letters

The decision to treat 666 as 3 one-digit numbers instead of as a single whole number means that we can never signify a letter beyond the ninth letter of the alphabet (because in a base-10 system we cannot express a number larger than 9). Thus, we end up excluding 13 of the 22 characters (over half) of the ancient Hebrew alphabet.

Splitting numbers by digit is arbitrary

When we imagine that the number 666 signifies www, we take an implicit step in changing the single number 666 into three independent numbers: {6, 6, 6}. This operation is second nature to us who use a base-10 counting system, but with any other system, splitting 666 into {6, 6, 6} is ludicrous. For example, in octal (base 8), six hundred sixty-six is represented by 1233. Should we therefore interpret it as {1, 2, 3, 3}?

It’s supposed to be a number, not letters

The number of the beast is a number. I.e. the numerals are not significant, the numerical value is. John makes this explicit, and if anything in the (mostly inscrutable) book of Revelation is clear, it is this:

“Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six.” (italics mine)

Number ciphers are not transitive

The letters-of-the-beast postulate presumes that the numerals themselves have meaning (if not, it would be meaningless to split 666 into {6, 6, 6}) and that the numerals are a cipher for letters (e.g. 6 → V).

In algebra we learn that if a = b and b = c, then a = c; and the letters-of-the-beast applies this rule to number ciphers: if 6 → v and w → v, then 6 → w.

It doesn’t work that way. Ciphers simply aren’t equivalences. We might as well assert that because a reaction between gasoline and oxygen has the same products as a reaction between sucrose and oxygen that gasoline is edible.

Tea at Home

In an earlier post on my visit to The Orangery (tea house) at Kensington, I rated the fare inferior to tea at home. I offer for your consideration and replication a description of our family teas.

Pictured is one of our beautiful spreads on an elegant, silver service. We usually have a green salad and something savory, something sweet, or both — not to mention tea.

In these snaps, you see a green salad (described below), cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches, tomato and cream cheese sandwiches, an apple tart, a cookie, and of course, our favourite tea (described below).

Being members of the Church of Jesus Christ of latter-day Saints, we drink herbal tea (infusions), nothing actually containing tea leaves. (To learn why, click here.) Our favourite tea is Saveurs du Soir, flavour Réglisse et Menthe (liquorice and mint), distributed by Lipton.

The salads pictured above contain red sail lettuce, sliced pears, feta, and Italian dressing. Our usual green salad is a base of spinach and arugula; topped with roasted pine nuts, jicama, grape tomatoes, and carrot medallions; and dressed with Italian dressing.

One of the books of which we have made use is Tea & Crumpets by Margaret Johnson and Leigh Beisch. Another in our library (but which we have perhaps never used) is Tea with Jane Austen by Kim Wilson and Tom Carpenter. The former introduced me to Glamorgan sausages, a treat rather like a quiche without the crust, something not too far off from a frittata. No, it’s not a meat product; it’s egg and cheese.

book image credits to goodreads.com

How to make an ant poison trap that’s pet safe

You may already know about using boric acid (Borax) to defeat an ant infestation. But how to distribute it effectively without risking your pets’ wellbeing?

I suffered a large invasion this month: ~100 ants visible at a glance, and they had made it from the apartment door to the pantry. Moreover, I have a cat who spends much of her time indoors. 24 hours after deploying two of my ant traps, I could find only five ants in the apartment, and none at all two days later.

Build your own with household odds and ends

The poison: to attract and kill the ants, mix boric acid with sugar. I added three parts sugar (1 Tbsp) to one part Borax (1 tsp). Then I added just enough water to make a syrupy concoction.

The strategy: the ants will eat some of the poison potion and carry some of it back to their superiors at the nest/hive. Memories of the cunning regicide make me quiver with delight.

The dispensary: I overturned the lid of a pill phial (just like the orange ones you get from the pharmacy). These lids have small holes all around them, raised slightly off the ground (when the lid is overturned). They’ll admit ants of any size. Pour some of the poisoned syrup into the overturned lid. Close off the lid with adhesive tape (I used masking tape).