Article Library
Fast, quiet reading pages.
Plain-term pieces laid out for quick scanning, fast loading, and easy movement between titles.
Cleaning Up A Support Inbox in Plain Terms
The inbox improves when ownership becomes visible. I am writing for small software teams, which means the useful version of cleaning up a support inbox has to fit inside a real day. Here is the rub. The answer should leave a mark on behavior, not only on mood.
The Small, Stubborn Truth About Repairing Attention In Remote Work
Attention is repaired by rooms, rituals, and smaller promises. I am writing for remote workers who feel scattered, which means the useful version of repairing attention in remote work has to fit inside a real day. Here is the rub. The answer should leave a mark on behavior, not only on mood.
Slow Fashion Without Moral Theater in Plain Terms
The useful question is cost per wear plus care. I am writing for shoppers who want less waste without scolding, which means the useful version of slow fashion without moral theater has to fit inside a real day. Here is the rub. The answer should leave a mark on behavior, not only on mood.
A Public Library On A Rainy Saturday in Plain Terms
The best public rooms lower the cost of staying. I am writing for people designing civic spaces, which means the useful version of a public library on a rainy Saturday has to fit inside a real day. Here is the rub. The answer should leave a mark on behavior, not only on mood.
How to Handle Choosing Durable Kitchen Tools Without Turning It Into Theater
Durability is a behavior, not a product label. I am writing for home cooks with limited space, which means the useful version of choosing durable kitchen tools has to fit inside a real day. Here is the rub. The answer should leave a mark on behavior, not only on mood.
A Quiet Manifesto for Better Meetings For Tired Teams
A meeting should earn the minutes it takes. I am writing for team leads and operators, which means the useful version of better meetings for tired teams has to fit inside a real day. Here is the rub. The answer should leave a mark on behavior, not only on mood.
Living With A Small Household Budget in Plain Terms
A budget is a translation device for pressure. I am writing for readers who want calm practical money habits, which means the useful version of living with a small household budget has to fit inside a real day. Here is the rub. The answer should leave a mark on behavior, not only on mood.
We Are Asking the Wrong Question About Urban Gardens After Heat Waves
Heat makes invisible maintenance visible. I am writing for city leaders and neighborhood volunteers, which means the useful version of urban gardens after heat waves has to fit inside a real day. Here is the rub. The answer should leave a mark on behavior, not only on mood.
A Shared Family Calendar, Reviewed From the Counter
The calendar is only as good as the handoff it creates. I am writing for busy families trying to reduce friction, which means the useful version of a shared family calendar has to fit inside a real day. Here is the rub. The answer should leave a mark on behavior, not only on mood.
Keeping A Neighborhood Notebook: A Practical Guide for People Who Need It to Work
A notebook is not nostalgia; it is a cheap civic sensor. I am writing for local organizers and curious residents, which means the useful version of keeping a neighborhood notebook has to fit inside a real day. Here is the rub. The answer should leave a mark on behavior, not only on mood.
Nine Mistakes I Made Switching from Vim to Neovim
He who already knows the keys is not the audience for the breathless conversion posts. You know `:wq`. You know what `ci"` does without thinking. You have a `.vimrc` with comments dated 2016 and a `set nocompatible` you can no longer justify keeping.
The Toolbox in the Garage
Two weeks ago he asked me what the yellow tool was for. He was holding a tape measure. I told him and he nodded the way a person nods when a name comes back to him from a long distance, and then he set it down on the workbench and walked out of the garage without taking it with him. The workbench is a sheet of three-quarter plywood my father laid across two sawhorses in 1986.
The Quiet Death of REST
Two summers ago a friend of mine. A backend lead at a mid-sized logistics outfit in the Quad Cities, called on a Sunday afternoon to say their dispatch service had been down for three hours. He sounded tired in the way people sound when they have already decided to fix the larger problem. Are only working through the local one.
What Schools Get Wrong About Boys Reading
He is twelve, and the book on his desk is about a girl whose horse dies in the first chapter. He has read sixteen pages since October. His mother, who teaches middle school in a district two counties over, told me this at a wedding in Cedar Rapids and then apologized for bringing it up. I told her not to apologize.
Three Days in Kanazawa, Slowly
He sweeps the wet leaves into a black plastic dustpan, then taps the dustpan twice on the rim of a metal cart. The sound is precise, almost musical, and it is the first thing I hear after stepping out of the ryokan on a Wednesday morning in late October. The man is maybe sixty. He wears a navy jacket with a name patch and rubber boots the color of old pennies.
A Static Site Generator in About 100 Lines of Go
By the end of this you will have a binary called `weave` that reads a directory of Markdown files with YAML frontmatter, runs each one through a Go template, and writes HTML into a `public/` directory. It will also watch the source folder and rebuild on save. The whole thing is roughly 110 lines of Go in a single file, plus go.mod. I will be honest about what it does not do.
The Beige
He opened the app at the coffee shop on Linn Street and I looked over his shoulder, not on purpose, just the way you look at a screen that catches the corner of your eye. White background. Soft gray icons. Rounded rectangles.
The Boy at the Back
He was the kind of teacher who kept a coffee can full of pencils on the corner of his desk, sharpened, points up, and if you needed one you took one without asking. His name was Mr. Doss. He taught sixth grade at Whitman Elementary in Loves Park, Illinois, in 1987, and he is the reason I can sit here and write this sentence.
The Subscription Trap
He told me this in a parking lot off First Avenue, leaning against the door of a Tacoma he'd bought used in 2019. Twenty-two years at a company that makes accounting software you've heard of. Laid off in March. Severance was sixteen weeks.
Notes from a Year of Walking
He started on the second Monday of January, in twelve-degree weather, because nothing about the decision was romantic. The coffee maker was broken. The couch had a stain on it from a glass of red wine knocked over in November and never properly addressed. The apartment, in short, had stopped offering me anything I wanted to sit inside of at six in the morning.