I’ve begun the process of killing off all my WordPress sites and replacing them with sites built using Hugo. I’m doing this because I’ve had various issues with WordPress that look like the data has gotten into a bad state. In addition, it’s a lot easier for me to edit and manage my site offline and upload it than the WordPress system of editing in the web browser.
Since I’m dong this, I’m doing weeding and trimming of the site as well, so you may notice some posts are not longer available, and that others have had a bit of refreshing / clean up.
Lately I’ve been working on building a theme for debugging sites built using Hugo. (Hugo is a fast and powerful static website generator). While most of the interest for this particular theme is actually the debugging I think the ‘silly little style’ I created for more pleasant testing, turned out being a not bad aqua/blue theme.
So, a little amateur photography through the window in my room. The photo above has been adjusted for shadows and highlights to improve visibility compared to the original. A gallery of the (cropped) original and tweaked photograph are shown below for easy comparison.
* As you can I get some interesting views through my window because of where the house in which I live is situated. Apparently it used to be the lookout for the coal docks / rail yard in Midland.
Well it seems I was down but not out. I’m getting back up and getting ready to continue the round. I’m stubborn that way, although this is about the punches life throws one’s way rather than a boxing match or other physical altercation.
It seems that there is need for my prescription for the medications that keep me from being depressed and paranoid (although nowhere near a crisis point it really was getting difficult to focus on anything other than the (irrational) worries about negative rumours being told about me in my community) to be adjusted.
I'm not perfect, neither are you: "Suck it up buttercup!" Okay, I have hard time saying things like that, even though there are times I am a bit of an ass. As the little quote says, “I’m not perfect”. The thing of which I have to remind myself is that neither is anyone else. We therefore need to learn how to forgive each other the little, or at least not major, stupid mistakes we make socially.
I may sometimes seem like I “keep on ticking” no matter what happens, or am constantly ‘making noise’ about things. In truth though this is as much acting that way in order to try to make it reality as it a reflection of myself. Unfortunately I am not really so indefatigable, and in fact lately I’m been feeling a bit of discouragement and in a slump. [AUTHOR’S NOTE: Apparently I’m still in a proofreading slump too…]
I discovered that a rather delicious meal I ate contained milk. It was unpleasant because I am lactose intolerant. When I experience the symptoms thereof, for some reason my mind has created this little poem (it might be a haiku):
My bowels, like water They move me To tears. It’s usually not quite that bad, but it is a horrible, painful experience, and even after all these years (I first learned lactose intolerance existed over 25 years ago, when ate a large bowl of pudding I had made and suffered incredibly, with no clue as the cause).
Since I’m working on planning my future and I happened to find out that the local college is having a virtual open house, I decided to take their ‘Career Assessment’, which turns out to be a fairly standard personality test (which wasn’t really all that surprising). It came back with, as usual for the tool this particular test is based on, as INTP.
I think the notion of sixteen personality types is a bit hokey, and have serious concerns about how much stock some folks put in these tests, but I find it at least interesting to see, in a general way, how it might help or help me understand myself.
A local artisan who makes handmade leather products (currently totes, hand bags, and journal covers) presented on their work at the Midland Public Library MakerPlace a while ago. I was unfortunately experiencing some health issues and didn’t post at the time. I find the notion they are attempting: a combined artisan studio and mental health initiative interesting because of my own mental health struggles (not Covid-related). I also love learning new things about how things are made.
Sadly this is not a post about a Blues music project during the Covid-19 pandemic. It’s just me whining about the fact that one way or another I’ve wrapped up all my tech projects and am feeling something I am not used to (and don’t like); boredom.
It’s not that there is nothing that needs doing around the house or nothing at all for me to work on, but that the combination of isolation during Covid combined with having completed (or terminated) all the projects I had on the go means that I’m feeling some what aimless and lost.
Day 1 of my covid desperation (self)-haircut looks okay, but I’ve noticed that if it gets out of place it looks a lot worse than a professional haircut. We’ll see what it looks like in a few days…
It probably doesn’t hurt that my forehead is mostly bald, at least for this…
So, I did have hair, once upon a time. And a scanner with not very many pixels...
It’s not just that I live alone, nor is it that I don’t think about family (and friends and others), but that I don’t generally like discussing personal details of other people’s lives in a public forum, or for a wide audience. Politics is another matter, but I don’t have family in politics, so it’s a non issue.
I would nonetheless like to give a shout out to my oldest nephew for learning from his mistakes and, with help, really making awesome changes for the better.
I’ve moved my “professional / technical” content to https://www.wildtechgarden.ca. This site will remain my personal website.
You may observe that there a number of other changes to the site, not the least of which is a ‘less formal’ font and theme for the site (for now at least). I’ve decided the theme I’ve been designing is really still too experimental and needs to be relegated to test mode while I pick away at it.
A strange idea came to me in conversation the other day, namely that my experience with schizophrenia helps me understand, just a little, what it must be like to be Prince William. I say this because one of the most persistent symptoms of my schizophrenia is the feeling that everyone is talking critically about me. Some of that feeling is likely due to thought patterns formed while ill remaining even after the physical cause which created those thought patterns has been treated with medication.
Let us all play pretend. Let us show the world I will not end. Let us all play pretend. Shall we don the mask, so none will ask, "Is everything fine?" When all is said and done, to whom will we show the thing others do not know, That our mask is not for fun. We wear the mask and all believe they know the weave of of our life though, truth be told, would leave all aghast.
There's smoke in the air and music pounding in my ears There's cracks in the floor and glass under my feet There's hope for me and for you Only we must meet Tell me how it ought to be Tell me what you want to see Tell me. Dance with me and watch me fall in love Dance with me and we will be Dance with me. Crowds of people Sounds of music atmosphere all its own Send me to the outer home Send me a picture-postcard Send me your love.
I walk in the last mournful rays of November sunlight their pale light failing, so it seems like a melancholy dream I feel the cold chill of air preparing for the snows to come; my heart despairs of finding warmth, hope, comfort. I have walked a hundred roads, thought a hundred thoughts and still it comes to this fading November twilight, of time gone, going of winter's coming, the cold blank whiteness that swallows the world.
I have a space of four walls between me and the world It is a mess but it is mine A private kingdom A world all my own A place to hide, to think, to play It may never see another soul, it matters not, for it is mine.
For kicks, a high school essay from 30 years ago about a particular cartel – long before the modern opioid crisis. The world has changed, and when it comes to addictions, not for the better it would seem.