Good morning, world!
I'm writing this from a rehab room in Biloxi with a broken ankle, waiting for my next surgery and trying to stay one step ahead of boredom. It turns out that's not as difficult as I thought it would be.
Today, my website asked for an engineering review.
That probably sounds strange.
After more than fifty years of writing software, I've always been the one examining programs, hunting bugs, and trying to make systems a little better than they were yesterday. But BluSup has reached a point where something unexpected happened.
Instead of me trying to explain the system, the system began explaining itself.
We built a new section called the Engineering Center. At first it looked like just another owner tool, but it quickly became something much more interesting. It gathers information about the live system, checks its health, and prepares an engineering package that I can hand to my programming partner.
Instead of guessing, we now have facts.
The first report was surprisingly good. The second one was even better. It didn't just say something was wrong—it told us exactly where to look and why.
Then something happened that made me smile.
A few days ago I had an upload problem and rebuilt part of my data from a backup. It had been sitting quietly in the back of my mind ever since. I knew I'd been careful, but I also knew I was human.
The Engineering Center found it.
Not by accusing me of making a mistake.
Just by quietly saying, "Here's something you may want to look at."
That's exactly the kind of engineering partner I've always wanted.
While all this was going on, a weekend nurse I'd never met before came into my room with a pain pill. She was very sweet. I happened to have the new Pillars logo on my screen, so I showed it to her.
She smiled and said she loved it.
I told her I had some help creating it.
Moments like that remind me that software isn't just code. Sometimes it's a conversation. Sometimes it's something you can proudly share with someone you've just met.
I'm still sitting here with titanium in my ankle, waiting for another surgery a few days before my eightieth birthday. That's not exactly how I pictured this summer.
But life has a funny way of opening doors you never expected.
Today I wasn't thinking about what I had lost.
I was thinking about what we had built.
And tomorrow, we'll build a little more.
Peace, Power, Purpose, Pride...
...and one very thoughtful engineering partner.
— Jim
This shared post is read-only. Sign in as owner to comment.