Search results for tag #life
Photo by Matt Str on Unsplash
179 Euros.
Decidedly over the budget I had set for myself. But it was beautiful, Japanese, big, and efficient. It had a grill and a "crisp plate". Terms whose meaning I ignored at the time, but they sounded good.
I thought about it for a few seconds. There were only two left, and a couple of gentlemen were approaching, looking interested. After all, the original price was 299 Euros, so it was an excellent deal.
Impulsively, I grabbed the box - large and decidedly heavier than I expected - and headed toward the checkout, satisfied.
I had already owned a microwave for many years, but a cheap model had broken down back in 2008. When I threw it away, I learned to do without it. It was 2008, and doing without had become something I was getting used to, willy-nilly.
But I had recently reappreciated its advantages during a trip and didn't want to do without it anymore. "So I did well to get a good model", I thought as I struggled to get to the car. However, I hadn't reckoned with one detail: that day, in Bologna, I had gone with the Smart. And that big box, in the trunk of a Smart car, would never fit. Since I was alone, I managed to work some magic with the passenger seat and, somehow (under the amused and approving gaze of the shop assistant, who had carefully avoided helping me), I managed to load it.
When I arrived home, triumphant, a neighbor was there. As soon as he saw me open the car door, he burst into laughter. We had never spoken much, but that scene, worthy of a cartoon, was the first step to getting to know each other better. I had a new friend.
This scene, lost for years in the fog of memory, came back to my mind just this morning, while I was defrosting bread for breakfast. Then the “beep” brought me back to the present, leaving a smile on my face. Starting the day in the right way.
Just before lunch, rearranging the freezer, I found a bag of fries. And I went back to 2011 - to that evening when a pizza at the neighbors' house was planned - on the day of my return from a long and tiring trip but, due to a last-minute problem, the evening was canceled. Too late to order a pizza nearby, too cold to go out, alone and not in great shape, to look for another one. I opened the fridge, remembering why I had planned to go grocery shopping the next day. But I found, in the freezer, some fries meant for frying. I had no oil, though, so I decided to try putting them on the crisp plate and firing up my trusty oriental ally. In a few minutes, the scent left no room for doubt: even without oil, I had somehow saved dinner. That term, “crisp plate”, finally made sense.
While making coffee after lunch, a very heavy truck passed by the house, causing a tremor. And my mind went back to May 2012, while continuous earthquake tremors were terrorizing our area. A neighbor was preparing his dinner and, due to a strong shock, the oil in the pan spilled out sideways, ending up on the flame and triggering a small fire. I, for prudence, decided I wouldn't use gas cooking tools, especially at dinner, but only the microwave. In those days, I specialized in many recipes - thanks to the grill, my roasts had become legendary among my friends. Prepared quickly, soft, and seasoned just right. I often thanked this “grill” - even this word, suddenly, made sense—for what followed.
Once cooled, I decided to prepare some jars and freeze the ragù leftover from lunch - which will undoubtedly be useful for dressing pasta at least two more times. Glass jars with a lid - not too full. Seven minutes with program number 3 and they are ready to be poured onto the pasta, hot at the right point. Like when, many years ago, I prepared entire pots (strictly terracotta!) of ragù, letting it boil for hours, as per the traditional recipe. And then I prepared all the jars that I froze and that would be lifesavers when, returning home hungry after a trip or a visit to a client, I was in a rush to eat. Or like that time when my neighbors had a breakdown and found themselves, at lunchtime, without the possibility of cooking, during the heavy snowfall of early 2013. They came to ask if I had gas and, in return, I invited them to share lunch with me. I perfectly defrosted two extra jars and increased the pasta dose. They decided they would buy an oven like that too, and the day ended with many beautiful laughs, made of stories and serene chatter. Snow outside, but human warmth, that was abundant inside the house.
The oven then became a friend to my girlfriend - later wife - who now uses and appreciates it more than I do. After 16 years, the buttons are now faded, and the right side, very close to the stove, has oxidized. But the operation is still perfect and after so many years, for sure, I don't need to read the buttons.
And a little while ago, while I was using it to heat the water for our nightly herbal teas to the perfect temperature, I thought back to how, in some way, it has been a witness to the transformations of my life. In serene moments, in tragedies, in small discoveries - like the fact that in the old house, when it was on, the entire WiFi network stopped working. He has always been there, ready to serve me, a silent witness to many changes. He was the only clock in my kitchen. Then he became a way to discover if the power had gone out during my absences. Then he moved to a new house, in three different positions.
I opened the door, took the cups - at perfect temperature - and said goodbye to him. Until tomorrow morning, when, again, he will defrost and heat my bread to the right point, bread that I learned to make precisely in those years when the oven and I were the only, silent companions of many, many meals.
Photo by Sagar Patil on Unsplash
The box of the new earbuds stayed closed for a few hours - I had other priorities. Once things calmed down, I took my time to take them out. A necessary unboxing rather than a desired one, because the previous pair, after years of honorable service, had started showing signs of age. I use them mainly for calls, so I need efficient and reliable tools, especially when I'm on the move.
The first thing I tested them with was a podcast I follow, whose new episode was about Pixar. And while some titles were being listed, Up was mentioned. It was in that instant that something sparked, making me reflect.
I still remember the first time I saw it, 16 years ago now. Carl looked just like my grandfather, his "cartoon" version. Identical! But it was a particular moment in my life, a specific situation, a personal mood, a recent impactful experience - I remember the first part touched me deeply. Carl and Ellie's story left an immediate mark. Two invented characters, yet bearers of something true, something profound. Of something wonderfully and joyously painful.
Somehow, I identified with both of them and, for a few days, I often found myself thinking about that situation. A normal situation, one that over the course of a lifetime we might, unfortunately, find ourselves facing. Either they were good at rendering it, or I was particularly susceptible.
Wearing the earbuds and hitting play, I went back to that mood. With 16 more years, a different life, and somehow, a different awareness. At 30, you see certain things as distant. At that moment, perhaps impossible. And I couldn't say if, back then, I was more afraid of living an experience like Carl and Ellie's, or of not living it. Of not wanting to live it. Of not being able to.
Today, everything is different. More certainties, perhaps. Fewer safety nets, certainly. And an awareness: that defending yourself helps protect you, but it makes you lose all the pleasure of what lies in between.
So - I ask myself today - does all this make sense? I don't want to give myself an answer. Or rather, it’s too late to wonder: I'm already on the dance floor, fully involved in the dance. In the meantime, however, I'll enjoy the view, as long as there is still sun to illuminate it.
Photo by Alex Heuvink on Unsplash
I'm in bed, but sleep won't come. And in these moments, the mind wanders - often in the wrong directions.
When I was born, it was a joy. Much wanted, I came into the world a bit late, on a cold December morning. The hospital was up on a hill but that hadn't discouraged my loved ones. I didn't seem very eager to come out, apparently, but everyone had rushed to wait for me. Outside the delivery room were my grandparents, without doubt the most impatient. One of my grandfathers walked back and forth along the corridor, restless, while the other (who had already lived through this experience with my cousin) tried to calm and reassure him. It wasn't easy for my mother. A somewhat complicated delivery, but everything turned out well.
When I finally started breathing, many smiled. I had so much hair - red! - and it was impossible to comb it down. The midwife, bringing me out, apologized for not managing to flatten my hair. Poor woman, it wasn't her fault: it's still impossible to flatten it today, even though it's a fraction of what it was back then.
Sometimes I think about the day I'll die. If I'm lucky, I'll be very old. If I'm very lucky, I won't realize it. If she's lucky, my wife won't have to live through this experience. And I think that, probably, I'll die alone. On one hand this reassures me: I've never liked to inconvenience others or to be a burden to them, and I don't want that to happen when I take my leave from life. Yet, from another point of view, it casts a veil of sadness over me. Perhaps I'll be in a sterile hospital room, alone or surrounded by strangers, and when my heart stops I'll be just another old man who passed away, handled with the appropriate professional detachment by staff who see these situations every day.
When I arrived, there was joy, anticipation. I was surrounded by loved ones. When I leave, if I'm lucky, there will be silence, indifference, and solitude.
I close my eyes again, in the overwhelming silence of the night.
Tomorrow morning, thankfully, there will still be familiar people, lights and sounds.
My coffee. My breakfast. My life, still waiting to be lived.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/02/08/arrivals-and-departures/
"We will leave this world as foolish and evil as we found it when we arrived."
Voltaire.
It's great to see such a huge turnout for this past weekend's No Kings Rally. However, at the end of the #weekend, a friend (who works in healthcare) asked me which rally I went to. I told him I didn't attend any due to caregiving responsibilities. He asked what was so difficult about bringing our son to a rally.
So...I want to talk about #caregiving for a bit. I've mentioned here before my son is fully #disabled with severe spastic #quadriplegic cerebral palsy, is #actuallyautistic, and has significant #sensory #needs. Caregiving is physically and emotionally #brutal. It's a significant #life change that, unfortunately, a lot of #people simple do not and cannot fathom - unless it happens to them.
The best way I can describe *my* #experience is it's real time #multivariable #calculus with known, unknown, and constantly changing variables. It requires high level non-linear systems-based thinking to solve #problems, #chaos #management, and constantly being on high alert.
#Burnout is inevitable, the #physical and #emotional #labor is genuinely exhausting on a cellular level, and #time and #access to self care is rare. It's also incredibly #socially #isolating.
In addition to the #social #isolation, navigating the outside world isn't just unnecessarily difficult it's a #failure of the #system. The uncomfortable #reality is most places are NOT #accessible, including #bathrooms. #Toileting is a basic #human #right! My son is too large and heavy for the baby changing stations in "#family #restrooms." We need to put him on a #dirty bathroom floor in order to change his #diaper. Where is the #humanity and #dignity in *that*?
I feel like a broken record explaining this to him for the past six years. It's honestly mind blowing and exhausting.
My lifeboat during recovery: a Linksys WRT54GL and a directional antenna.
I opened my eyes and looked at the alarm clock next to my bed. For the first time in days, I had managed to sleep. It was 7 and I was in no hurry to get up, but I no longer felt... I no longer felt the tingling in my legs. I felt nothing.
I fixed my gaze on the photo hanging beside me. The one where I stood leaning against my car, at the Piana di Castelluccio. Standing. I didn't have the courage to try. The moment had arrived - that moment. I wasn't ready. The whirlwind of thoughts continued to envelop me and, as I often do in these cases, my brain told my body to let the thoughts tangle among themselves while I acted. I turned and placed my feet on the ground. I felt the floor beneath me. I stood up. I felt no pain. I tried walking in various directions. I moved. Apart from the back pain, everything from the legs down was fine. Everything was fine. Everything was fine. I sat back on the bed and, finally, managed to cry.
It was a cool but sunny morning in March 2007. I had an appointment at the training center I collaborated with. The goal was to present new courses on Open Source operating systems, focused on Linux and BSDs. The attendees were system administrators expert in other OSs who wanted to approach the open-source world in a systematic, complete, and guided way. I liked it, I liked it a lot, so by 10:15 I was already in the saddle of my trusty Suzuki Burgman scooter. Bologna's traffic, at that hour, was decidedly less intense, but parking a car would have been impossible. Besides, it was a beautiful day; two wheels were undoubtedly the best way to move. I had time, so I planned to enjoy the ride calmly, already thinking about how to present my ideas to the organizers. Smiling, positive, optimistic.
I left the house and put all my documents under the seat, safely stowed. I opened the gate and edged the nose of the scooter out. No cars were coming, so I decided to set off slowly. The limit was 50 km/h, but I had just left, so I was advancing much, much slower. A few meters later, as I was proceeding, I saw something out of the corner of my left eye. Then I felt a blow and lost control of the Burgman. Instinctively, I threw myself off the vehicle, sliding on the asphalt. My gloves, helmet, and jacket completely cushioned the blow, and in a split second, I realized I had made the right choice, without yet understanding what had happened. I was going so slowly that I slid for very little distance; I was already stopped and ready to get up. Before I could even focus, I felt a very strong blow to my back, without feeling any pain. Again, I didn't understand, but I saw the handlebars of the Burgman coming closer right after. Instinctively I stood up, immediately, and turned around.
There was a car, a Fiat Punto, and my scooter near me. The car was trying to maneuver to get around the "obstacle", but I understood immediately, from the damage, that it was a car - that car - that had hit me. I planted myself in the middle of the road and immediately stopped the person behind the wheel, an elderly man - but not too elderly. Meanwhile, some people who had witnessed the scene or heard the noise rushed over. I wasn't alone. He got out of the car and looked at me and the scooter. He only said, "Well, I see you're standing and you haven't hurt yourself, I'd say I can go, right? I'm in a hurry." He wasn't confused. He wasn't trying to pull a fast one. He was just focused on his schedule.
I lost my temper. He only thought about the fact that he "had to leave", and not out of fear or a sense of responsibility. He was distracted. I lashed out, "But didn't you see me coming?" His response, calm and relaxed, froze me: "Of course, but I was in a hurry to get to the bar for my usual card game and I was late. I thought I could squeeze past, I was in a hurry. Anyway, you're standing and the damage seems minimal. I have to go."
No, he wasn't a confused elderly man. He was a person focused on his routine, and this had been just another hindrance. It was him, being himself. I shouted, with the support of the people who had gathered, "No, you're not going anywhere, we're waiting for the Carabinieri." In that moment, fueled by adrenaline, I lifted the Burgman and leaned it against the side of the road. Alone. Immediately after, my vision went almost black, and I had to sit down. A piercing pain in my back which - I realized only then - I had had since the beginning, but the adrenaline was making me ignore. Meanwhile, both the Carabinieri and the Ambulance arrived together. Someone had called them, and they had arrived with some speed.
I got into the ambulance on my own legs, and they examined me immediately. They decided to take me to the hospital for checks, especially for the back pain. Meanwhile, the Carabinieri took their measurements. One of them got into the ambulance. He must have been only a few years older than me and, looking me in the eyes, said words I will never forget: "So much damage, so much pain caused by small distractions, by small things. By our small lives. That man didn't do it on purpose. He is sorry, but he keeps repeating that he was convinced he could get through and keeps emphasizing that 'he couldn't be late'. So much damage, so much pain due to our vices and whims!" A venting from a man who, every day, saw all kinds of things. Yet they were words of comfort. Somehow, this man was bitter for me, sorry. And, probably, in the general confusion, amidst the professionalism of the medical staff and the voyeuristic interest of the passersby, I really needed a contact without barriers.
As soon as he got off, I called the Training Center: "I had a small accident, I won't be able to be there as agreed. Can we postpone by a few days?" They, of course, agreed.
Small accident. I downplayed it. Because, all things considered, I was back on my feet. Because I didn't want to show vulnerability to the client, risking losing this beautiful project. Because, perhaps, I was protecting myself from reality.
When I arrived at the hospital, everyone was extremely kind and diligent. They did all the necessary checks - including an X-ray. And it was precisely that X-ray, suggested by the type of impact and the tingling I felt in my legs and feet, that brought the doctor into my room. There had been a hairline fracture of two vertebrae and, for less than a millimeter, there hadn't been grave, very grave damage. That damage would have caused the total loss of sensation from the pelvis down. I breathed a sigh of relief, but the doctor continued: "We have to monitor the tingling. I believe the problem is linked to the impact, to the effort made immediately after to lift the scooter - suggested by the bruises on both legs - but we are not certain. We have to wait." Confused, I asked what that meant. What we had to wait for. He was vague. At that point, I was myself and went straight to the point: I asked him if I was still risking losing the use of part of my body. He lowered his gaze. He didn't answer. He stayed vague and said that within a few days we would better understand the situation. He focused on the tingling. "It will probably disappear - and at that point, we will understand. If you feel everything normally, it means everything went well. Otherwise..." He said no more. I asked no more. I didn't want to know, at that moment. I kept focusing on the probably. The rest of the sentence, instead, I metabolized in the following hours.
I was just going to present my ideas for my course, on a pleasant early March morning, calmly, on a road I had taken every day for years. With prudence. Building my life, my future. My projects. If I had left 30 seconds earlier - or later... or by car. In that instant, probably, I would have already been on my way back, maybe retrieving the car from a distant parking lot, regretting not having used the Burgman.
I was discharged in the afternoon, with the prescription to get out of bed as little as possible, exclusively to go to the bathroom. There was no way to sleep: I had pain everywhere, my legs had turned completely black. I took a photo in front of the mirror - then deleted it, in the terror of what I had seen. There was no position that didn't give me pain and pangs. I had continuous tingling and little sensitivity from the pelvis down. Problems going to the bathroom, problems doing everything.
They were terrible days, compounded by a further problem. Because of the false promises of a salesperson, I was also left without an Internet connection. But necessity is the mother of invention, and the discovery that a directional antenna pointed towards the end of the street, where there was an old router with an easily "guessable" WEP password, was like a lifeboat after a shipwreck.
The tingling went on for days, until that morning. The morning I realized I had managed to sleep because I no longer had pain. The "probably" had come true. And it had gone away giving me back, again, my sensitivity.
The doctor confirmed: it was an excellent sign, meaning the healing phase had begun. No serious permanent damage. It would take time, but I would heal.
That day I understood many things - many more than I thought - about myself, about the world around us, and, more specifically, about those around me.
And about the importance of keeping one's access points updated, of course.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/02/02/the-weight-of-a-millimeter/
The car's boot full of delicious fish
My smartphone just showed me a photo, taken exactly four years ago today. I published it on the Fediverse back then, showing nothing but enthusiasm for the great takeout food we had ordered.
The truth was different.
That morning, I had received a phone call from my mother, telling me that my grandmother wasn't feeling well. We thought it was just a common flu, but it felt "strange". I rushed to her. I found her standing, in high spirits, welcoming me with her usual affection and joy. She was already feeling much better but was a bit tired, so she had already eaten dinner and was heading to bed early. Her usual spirit, her usual stride, her usual grit.
Relieved, we decided to pick up some seafood takeout from a restaurant owned by a former classmate of mine. And the fish, besides being delicious, was abundant.
The next morning, I received a call from my mother: my grandmother was doing terribly - in her view, perhaps close to death. She had wanted to stay in her own home, alone - she refused to give up her independence - but seeing that her shutters hadn't been raised, my parents had burst into her house before 7:00. She was barely lucid, very lethargic.
The point was this: she was nearly 93 years old and almost unconscious - would it be right to call an ambulance, or would it be better, since she wasn't suffering, to let her take her leave from life that way? We talked about it for a moment: she was in perfect shape, took no medication, and until the day before, she went for walks of over an hour every day (to do the grocery shopping and back), carrying a cane only "to give her security" but never actually using it. We decided to call the ambulance immediately, and she was hospitalized as an emergency. The doctor told my father to prepare himself - it was too grave, and saving her was almost impossible. That night, mentally, I tried to prepare myself to say goodbye. I tried.
A week later, she was back at her house, on her feet, in good shape, with perfect lab results.
But it was a hollow victory because, as my other grandmother used to say, "death looks for its reason". Her condition would decline - slowly - over the following months, giving her both the awareness of her own frailty and the knowledge that she was leaving. She lost the self-sufficiency that meant everything to her.
I would only see her two more times, and speak to her on the phone a few others. On her birthday in March, she was angry because she had wanted a party, knowing it would be her last birthday. She knew it; we didn't. We saw a recovery; she saw the decline.
And today, looking at that photo, I asked myself if, perhaps, it would have been better to avoid calling that ambulance. To let her go like that, without suffering, in her own bed, in her own home. Independent, until the very end. Things went differently: one is never truly ready to let go of someone they love.
And today, looking at that photo, I can't help but think that the restaurant in the picture is now closed. Because the restaurateur, my former classmate, passed away a few months ago. At an age when one should be living life to its fullest, certainly not gone.
Sometimes, a photo is enough to bring you back to the exact mood of that precise instant. A photo where all you see is excellent and abundant fish, but all you feel is anguish, suffering, and sadness.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/28/the-scent-of-a-photo/
The Magpie - looking inside
This morning, I opened the studio window as I do every morning. But the pigeons' nest on the ledge was occupied by a magpie. Startled by the noise, she turned toward me and began to screech. Like a Pavlovian reflex, I slammed the glass shut and jumped backward, hitting my leg against the cabinet.
That stare. That sound.
It was late autumn 2022 - a year when everything had happened. We were slowly emerging from a period even heavier than the one we were living through, just trying to return to some form of normality. And normality, among other things, meant sitting at my desk around the same time each morning, soft jazz in the background, running through my usual checks. Small rituals. Anchors.
For a few days, something unusual had been happening. Curious, almost pleasant. A magpie had taken to perching on my windowsill and peering inside. This happens sometimes - especially with pigeons. But there was something different: even when I stood up from my chair, she stayed. Magpies are intelligent creatures, I thought. She probably understands the glass is closed and I pose no threat. I saw it as something positive, if odd.
As days passed, she came more often. Stayed longer. At some point, she began tapping her beak against the glass. Insistently. Obsessively. I didn't pay it much attention and went on with my life.
Until that afternoon.
I had decided to replace the old intercom - we couldn't do without one, but replacing the entire system was out of the question. I went outside with everything I needed and started dismounting the old unit. I stepped back for a moment to figure out where to mount the new device. Suddenly, she landed on the low wall in front of me, right on top of my screwdrivers and the new intercom. I barely had time to register the scene before she launched herself straight at my eyes.
I ducked. She circled around me, then returned to the wall. I took out my phone to record, tried to back away, but she kept attacking. She pecked violently at my jacket, damaging it, then flew back to the wall. I tried to run inside, but she was faster. She landed on my head - even as I moved - and tried to reach my eyes. Instinctively, I extended my arm, hoping for the perch effect. She calmed immediately and settled on it. I froze. All I could do was take out my phone and capture the moment. Then I thought: I need to get back inside, somehow. But seconds later, she began hopping up my arm toward my head again.
A truck passed close by, disturbing her enough to make her fly to the balcony ledge. I seized the moment and ran for the door. As I opened it to enter, she tried to jump on me and follow me inside. I slammed the door and inadvertently caught her between the door and the frame. She kept trying to enter. Finally, I managed to close it.
No one fully believed me. My wife did, but she hadn't quite grasped the extent of it. We locked ourselves inside. For a few days, we didn't see her. I convinced myself the blows against the door had injured her - perhaps killed her. I felt guilty. I hadn't wanted to hurt her. I just hadn't wanted her to hurt me.
The morning of 6th December, I was tired of staring at the monitor and suggested a walk to my wife. She agreed. The air was humid but not too cold. As soon as we stepped outside, we started our usual route, but my wife noticed something on the garden wall. It was her. Distant, but I recognized her voice immediately. Before I could look closer, she arrived, landing on my wife's head. My wife panicked and ran toward the house, but the more she fled, the more the bird insisted. She targeted her hair and pecked - fortunately the hood offered some protection. But the path to the front door wasn't short. I threw myself at the bird to drive her away, which worked. For a few seconds. As we neared the door, she returned, screeching relentlessly. I yanked the door open and tried to get my wife inside, but the bird wouldn't let go. I waved my arms, tried to push her away with my hands, but she had clamped down with her claws. Finally I managed, and my wife got inside - but the bird came back for me. I barely made it in, nearly crushing her in the door again.
The security cameras captured everything. Including what she did afterward: she perched on the boiler pipe, puffed up her feathers triumphantly, and flew away.
We contacted the authorities. At the carabinieri station, they didn't take us seriously - until I showed them the video. Then they called the local wildlife protection office immediately.
The following days were a nightmare. The magpie had learned our schedules. Every time I opened a window, she would attack or try to enter. She would station herself on my windowsill for hours, pecking at the glass, working at the rubber seal as if trying to break through. Screeching while she knocked. We couldn't go outside during the day anymore. We couldn't set foot beyond our door: she was there, waiting.
The mail carrier rang. There was a letter requiring a signature. Strangely, she was in her van. I couldn't go out and asked her to take it to the post office, where I'd pick it up. I explained it was because of a deranged magpie. She almost smiled with relief: "So it's not just me. This is why I don't get out of the car around here anymore. She attacks me. Always. It's like a horror film".
We only went out after sunset. Talking with neighbors, we discovered the bird had a precise pattern. She attacked women, younger men, and children. But she was playful and friendly with elderly men. She had injured someone's eye a few days earlier, not far from us. A girl's ear - someone who lived across from our window. She knew when that girl would return from work and would position herself there, waiting. All of this captured by our cameras.
The neighborhood divided. Everyone who had been attacked pushed for something to be done. The others resisted. "She's a free, playful animal. You're clearly the aggressive ones, and she's just defending herself.". So much for community spirit.
Meanwhile, despite reporting to every possible authority, nothing moved. A game of responsibility - which no one wanted - while people walked around with umbrellas for protection. In some cases, she entered through windows and attacked people inside their homes.
That February evening, the sun had already set, so we felt safer. The kitchen shutters were still open, as usual, and I decided to close them. I opened the window and looked around, even though it was dark. I felt calm: in the darkness, there's no danger. A dull thud of claws against the metal gutter and, in a flash, her screech announced the attack. She had been just above me, on the roof, ready to strike. Fortunately, the mosquito net was half-broken and she got partially tangled in it, giving me time to slam the window shut. The shutters stayed open until late that night. So did my eyes.
The next morning we woke to banging. It was barely dawn and she had started hurling herself against the shutters. Obsessively. Continuously. From the cameras I could see her: she would charge from the tree across the street, slam into the shutters, return to the tree, repeat. That day we didn't open the windows. We spent the entire day in darkness, using only electric lights.
The only way we could breathe was to take the car and drive away. To the city center, mostly. We felt safe only among the tall buildings, though every now and then a magpie's call would freeze us in place.
One early April afternoon, I had just made coffee. As I often do, I walked to the window - closed - to look outside. The horse chestnut had begun filling with leaves, a beautiful spectacle marking the start of the warm season. She was right there, on the chestnut tree. The moment she saw me, she launched herself with that unmistakable voice, slamming violently against the glass. She had a sort of crest raised: she was furious.
A very private neighbor had been unaware of the whole affair. Or rather, she knew something but hadn't had direct experience. She too thought the stories were exaggerated by local gossip. Until the magpie tried to attack her husband and then her little girls. Drawing on her civil protection contacts, she immediately took action. We sent her our video to strengthen the case. It was late afternoon and raining heavily. A phone call came: "They caught the magpie. They came to take my statement and she arrived on the scene, attacking even them. They should come to you - since you have the video - for a statement and an identification.".
Incredulous, I agreed immediately. It seemed strange that everything had gone smoothly. Too easy.
Two minutes later, the forestry service car arrived below our house. "Would you like to come see her, to confirm it's the same bird?"
I agreed. A neighbor came too - more for vindication than curiosity. As soon as they opened the trunk, we both jumped back. The magpie, the moment she saw us, began screaming and throwing herself violently against the walls of the cage. In that moment, I believe, she would have torn us apart. It was her. Without a shadow of doubt.
They came upstairs and took our statement, along with permission to include the video. They wouldn't harm the bird, they explained, but they would have to keep her somewhere she couldn't hurt anyone: a sanctuary for birds raised in captivity, unable to survive in the wild.
Like this magpie. And they told us her story.
She had been captured by an elderly man who, since she was a chick, had fed her and let her roam free in his home. She had become possessive and demanding, but never dangerous - with him. With his wife and children, however, probably out of jealousy, she was extremely aggressive. The man was very old, and eventually he died. His wife and children were afraid of the magpie but couldn't report it: magpies are protected and cannot be captured or kept in captivity. So they released her, several months before our first encounter. Perhaps a year earlier. The area was different, so she had likely wandered into our neighborhood in late summer 2022.
While they told us this, one of the officers received a call from colleagues outside: two elderly neighbors were circling the car, trying to open it. They wanted to free her. A criminal offense, but they didn't care. In their eyes, we were evil creatures for wanting "the capture" of that poor, defenseless animal. Even though she had injured dozens of people. Even though she was a direct and constant danger to children. The officers managed to send them away, though they remained angry and threatened legal action against us too.
The rain stopped. A timid ray of sunlight broke through the clouds. I looked up. I saw the trees full of leaves, felt the warmth on my skin and that particular scent that rises around the house just after rain.
I felt free.
I called my wife and asked if she wanted to take a walk. She said yes. We went out and, for the first time in months, returned to places that had been forbidden to us.
This morning, opening that window, I relived the nightmare for an instant. But this magpie, true to her nature, immediately flew away in the opposite direction. She had never known an old man's living room. She had never learned to see a human as home.
I left the window open for a few seconds, breathing in the humid air of the first real day of winter.
uspol [SENSITIVE CONTENT]
The elder care solution that everyone with aging parents should know about
As baby boomers age, caregivers are often squeezed caring for parents and children at the same time. They need help.
Archive: ia: https://s.faithcollapsing.com/agquh
#family #health-care #life #policy #relationships #the-highlight
https://www.vox.com/the-highlight/480426/adult-day-care-caregiving-baby-boomers-sandwich-generation
Alt...
a thirty-something woman walking on a pink background, guiding an older woman in front of her and a young kid just behind her
What was left of the mechanically perfect Mercedes 250D the next morning.
I heard a deafening noise coming from outside. It sounded like a dying clutch mixed with a completely mistimed acceleration. I looked out and, with a grim sort of satisfaction, I realized I was right: it was an old, battered Mercedes W124 - the famous, "indestructible" 200-Class. Indestructible, perhaps, but old enough now to finally show its age.
It was 14 May 2002. Against my will, I had already returned my car to the dealer because "it sells better during this period", and while waiting for my new one, he had lent me a "courtesy vehicle". It was an old Mercedes 250D - over ten years old. Slow but unstoppable, its odometer boasted over 520,000 kilometers. According to the dealer, it had traveled at least double that, but it was "mechanically perfect".
Actually, it was pleasant to drive. Slow - very slow - but the sense of solidity and quality was still perfectly palpable. I admit that, in the end, I didn't mind those "bridge" days. And that evening, I had no desire to stay home. My parents were going to bed early. I had studied all day and was tired. The evening was mild, and I wanted some space. I made a phone call, grabbed the keys to the Mercedes, and headed out. "I'll be back before midnight; it’s just a short drive".
The evening passed quietly, and by 22:30, I was already on my way back. Sometimes, a little is enough to feel like you can breathe again. I decided to take it slow, enjoying the clear night, the non-existent Tuesday night traffic, and the simple pleasure of extending the drive. I took the highway, with a limit of 130 km/h, but I stayed in the right lane, keeping it under 100. There was no one else on the road.
Lost in my thoughts, I noticed something moving at the edge of the road, barely illuminated by the headlights. Before I could even process it, that "something" darted into the lane: a large white dog - likely a Maremma Shepherd - and a smaller dog by its side. Without even thinking, I slammed my foot on the brake and swerved to the left. The dogs were saved. But in an instant, I knew something was wrong. Despite being equipped with ABS, the car completely lost traction at the rear. Thump - a dull thud - and the front hood flew open, completely blocking my view of the road. The car went wild, spinning in a tailspin, and I heard a loud grinding noise as warning lights flashed on the dashboard. The car kept spinning, then another loud crash. Suddenly, silence. Those moments, though brief, are etched in my mind as infinite seconds, ticked away one by one by an atomic clock.
Then, a slight hiss. Then louder. I saw smoke and decided to get out immediately. I pulled the handle, but the door wouldn't budge. The smoke was increasing - and so was my urge to escape. I gave the door a well-aimed kick, and it suddenly burst open, revealing the road. Fortunately, I was at the edge, so I scrambled out and moved away. I turned around and felt the air leave my lungs: the front of the car was destroyed, the rear torn open, and it was halfway off the road. It had dislodged the guardrail, which, however, had done its job: I hadn't ended up in the canal. Debris was scattered across the asphalt, but luckily, the smoke stopped. It was probably coolant or oil.
I saw a car approaching - it slowed down, drove over the scattered pieces, and kept going. And so, over the next few minutes, did two others. With the third passerby, things went differently: he stopped and positioned his car so his lights would illuminate the scene. My own hazard triangle had ended up in the canal when the trunk flew open during the impact.
The man made sure I was okay and told me that a few days earlier, the same thing had happened to his wife. Same spot, same dynamics, but fortunately, she had managed to regain control. I wondered why I hadn't been able to handle it.
The Carabinieri arrived, and I called my parents. I was unhurt and answered the officers' questions; they admitted they were aware of the problem. They didn't feel it necessary to breathalyze me - I was perfectly lucid.
The next day, I went to the car dealer and told him what had happened. He smiled, telling me the important thing was that I was okay. Then he explained that yes, the car's suspension had over a million kilometers on it and he should have replaced it before the next inspection, but he figured he would eventually sell the car to some "exporter who would take it abroad for pennies". And there was more: the car had been in a bad accident before and had been "decently" repaired, but the frame was no longer entirely straight.
I looked at him. He lowered his gaze. All my fear transformed into rage. "Don't worry, I won't make you pay for the damage", he said. The words bounced off my ears. My expression didn't change. The silence said much more than a thousand words. As I walked away, I looked back one last time toward what could have been my coffin. Despite everything, it had protected me - because its mileage and inefficiencies hadn't erased the underlying quality of its build. Just as the three-pointed star continued to shine, pointing proudly upward amidst a tangle of metal, wires, and whatever remained of the car’s front end.
I tried to erase this story from my mind, and it worked. Until a July morning when a registered letter arrived for me. I opened it, curious; I wasn't expecting anything official. It was from the road management company. They were asking me to pay for the repair of the guardrail, which hadn't been fixed yet. Infuriated, I called the reference number and pointed out that the Carabinieri had documented the presence of dogs and were already aware of the issue. In fact, the officers themselves had written in the report that they had received several reports of two stray dogs in previous days. Furthermore, a section of the perimeter fence was missing because it was completely rotted. They replied, coldly, that the fence had been restored and that I had no direct witnesses to the actual existence of those dogs. I would have to activate my insurance or pay. Tertium non datur.
The insurance paid. I was left with a bitter taste in my mouth, but in the end, what mattered was that no one had been hurt. Not me, and not the dogs.
The W124 outside my window, amidst hellish noises, finally managed to pull out of the parking spot and drove away. Sitting back down, I thought that even for "indestructible" cars, the time eventually comes to let them go.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/11/the-mechanically-perfect-lie/
The Usual, Thanks
A snowy drive to a meeting that turned out to have nothing to do with IT - and a pizzaiolo who understood politics better than the politicians.
The Usual, Thanks
The day is drawing to a close and, before dinner, I sit down to read the news. The count from today's referendum is nearly over and the result seems fairly clear-cut. Some are celebrating, others "reflecting" on what went wrong. Everyone is talking. No one, by now, remembers what was actually being voted on. Perhaps, for the average voter, it never mattered. Perhaps the real subject didn't interest the politicians either. The purpose, as always, was a pure battle between parties.That winter was cold - the kind of cold we haven't seen since - and that day I would gladly have stayed home, working from my slow but stable ADSL connection of less than 1 Mbit/sec. Poor even then, but necessity breeds resourcefulness. It was urgent, though. Necessary. Two words that have always made everything else seem secondary. The front door made an unusual sound - a delayed click. The ice had crept into the mechanism, and my nose immediately caught that scent of fog and snow together, so rare to find combined.
Had it been an ordinary day, I would have watched from the window, opening it now and then to savour that fragrance, stretching out an arm to feel the frozen flake settle on my hand, already chilled and dampened by the freezing mist.
The car was in the garage, but the moment I pulled out, the wheels showed signs of poor grip. Even winter tyres weren't enough. But motivation - that was more than enough. As I drove slowly, struggling to see the road through the thickening fog, I was already thinking about the potential new project they were going to propose. I had put forward a couple of ideas - in my view extremely useful and affordable - and they had shown a certain enthusiasm. But the journey was much longer than expected, so my mind wandered everywhere, without my even noticing. I wondered whether I would have made the same trip, in the same conditions, without this urgency. But urgency, when it concerns public budgets, must always be respected.
There were no parking spaces, except… a mound of snow. I didn't think twice and climbed on top of it, thanks to the rear-wheel drive, though I couldn't quite make it all the way. The car, being short, fitted within the allotted space. I smiled, and a snowflake landed on my forehead.
I headed straight to my contact's office. He greeted me with a triumphant smile. "You made it in this weather. You're a person of incredible motivation. Exactly what we need. We've had some ideas here, and we'd like to share them with you." I was about to speak, but: "We're confident our collaboration will be extremely long and lasting. We all agree. All of us."
That _all of us_, for reasons I couldn't explain, made my blood run cold.
Two other people arrived whom I had never seen before. They introduced themselves, courteously. In that moment I thought they must have been printing smiles in that office - identical ones. Or perhaps they were fraternal twins, separated at birth. I smiled too, to blend in with this carnival of good cheer, still without having said a single word.
"You are young, upright, well-regarded, respected. You work in an innovative, valued sector. You are someone who can be trusted, and we need you."
I strengthened my smile, turning it into my own.
"One of our current problems is the stagnation of the political class, in the face of demographic change. The elderly are dying, the young are growing up with different ideas, and there are many new arrivals. We're expanding demographically - and not through new births."
I put my polite smile back on, to mask the fact that I wasn't understanding a thing. I didn't even try, this time, to take the floor.
"Many people who come to live here weren't born here. They study, they graduate, and the many industries in our area attract them - drawing them to settle nearby. And you weren't born here, but you're a figure that many people know, esteem, and respect. You are the archetype of the new citizen, and that could be very useful to us."
But I didn't even live there. What were they asking me? I didn't understand - at first. But I sensed something strange in their request. It was time to clarify, but…
"It doesn't matter which political alignment you choose. These gentlemen are the local representatives of the two major parties, and both would be delighted to have you on board. The choice should be ideological, but try to be pragmatic. After all, both sides have their spheres of influence, and you won't lack for work, in the position you'll hold. People will seek you out because you think like them. And for us, a new face would be gold, in this moment of political disaffection."
My smile turned, abruptly, to paralysis. I tried to speak, but…
"You can always change your mind and switch to the other side. Some have done it, and although it may seem absurd, some voters appreciate someone who changes their mind - they see it as a human quality, like their own."
I interrupted him.
"Are you asking me to stand for election, in either of the two parties? I have no experience. No competence in the matter. Shouldn't I start from the bottom first?"
His smile became almost paternal, like the other two:
"My dear boy, it doesn't matter. You'll learn. Besides, people don't want experience - experience makes you cautious, and caution is boring. They want someone young, resolute, convincing. Tell them what they like to hear, with confidence. That will be more than enough. In the meantime, party dynamics count more than individual ideas." And their smiles turned into a laugh. Genuine, probably. Sardonic, to my eyes.
I froze, and decided to put their same smile back on.
"Thank you for the offer and for the trust. Without doubt, it's interesting. But I need to think about it - you must give me time. I would never have expected this; it wasn't in my plans. I need to reflect."
"Of course!" replied Stan (of Stan's Previously Owned Vessels). "Take all the time you want - we're always here. Just give us a sign and we'll always be ready to meet and give you all the details you need."
As soon as I stepped outside the building, I quickened my pace toward the Smart. The snow was bothering me now and I brushed it from my face with sharp, impatient movements. The mound of snow was still there, and so was my Smart. I accelerated to build some momentum and, without even realising it, went into a slight spin. I shifted the lever to D and pulled away, sharply.
I reached home in some indefinite stretch of time, my mind empty. I left the Smart outside and went upstairs, almost slamming the door to make sure it wouldn't freeze shut. I opened the fridge - full of everything - but closed it thinking: "Pizza." I went out again, this time on foot, to pick one up. A few words with someone, I thought, would do me good.
"The usual, thanks." Luca looked at me, probably thinking I had got out of bed on the wrong side, and said nothing more. The television, in the background, was showing the news. At one point an important national politician appeared, charming the journalists with their own words.
"Crooks. Phonies. Hypocrites. Only clinging to their seats, that's all they are" - I whispered in my mind. But, perhaps, not only in my mind.
Luca looked at me, while with practised, expert gestures he stretched out my pizza, and said with a smile: "Only just worked that out, have you?"
Photo by Lukas Tennie on Unsplash
I received an email yesterday morning. It was a thank-you note for one of the open-source tools I created and maintain. The sender explained how useful the software was for their specific needs, and as always, this brought me an immense sense of satisfaction.
But at one point in the email, a question appeared - one that has become a recurring theme in the modern software world: "I notice there haven't been any new releases for about ten months. Should I consider the project abandoned?"
I decided to reply immediately: "No, it’s not abandoned. But it satisfies all my requirements, so unless there are bugs or new needs, I consider it 'complete'."
The person’s response was telling: "What do you mean by complete? Software is either in active development or it's abandoned. I’ve never heard of 'complete' software."
I started reflecting on how the very ideal of "completeness" has totally vanished from our lives. And on second thought, I wasn't surprised.
This doesn't just apply to software; it permeates every corner of our modern existence. There was a time when you bought a car, you owned it. Today, almost everyone leases or uses financing with a final "balloon" payment - often so inconvenient that people find themselves taking out a new loan after just a few years. The result is that we never truly own our cars, and they are constantly plagued by automatic software updates that, in some cases, break things that previously worked just fine.
When we bought an appliance, we installed it. Barring a breakdown, it stayed exactly as it was for the rest of its (often long) life. Today, an immediate software update is mandatory the moment you plug it in. Fail to do so, and essential features won't work. A modern washing machine often comes with only two or three built-in programs; the others must be downloaded from the "cloud" - sometimes for a fee. If you don't, you can't fully use what you already paid for. I don't wash my clothes the way I want anymore; I wash them the way the manufacturer’s questionable cloud dictates. And this continues only as long as the manufacturer decides I am allowed to wash my clothes at all.
Before everything was "always online", the concept of complete software was common. Yes, new releases happened from time to time, but they weren't taken for granted, and sometimes years would pass between them. The premise was clear: software was released to solve a specific problem. Distributing updates wasn't easy, so it had to be reliable from the very first release. It couldn't come out riddled with bugs - that would have meant a loss of face (or even bankruptcy) for the producer.
When a new release or a new product did come out (be it software, an appliance, or a car), the manufacturer had to entice the user by focusing on what was actually new - on what new problem it would solve. Consumable goods eventually need replacing, but for durable goods, the battle for the customer's attention was more complex. I remember buying many books, VHS tapes, CDs, and DVDs during sales, and then spending the following months reading, listening, or watching them. The beauty of today's streaming is choice. The tragedy is that the moment we stop paying, we are left with nothing.
The "disposable" has become the norm for everything. Quality has plummeted - even in our relationships - because we are always searching for something "new". And yes, I say "we" because I include myself in this chase for dopamine - that intense, albeit brief, pleasure of something new. Even when there is almost nothing new about it. Even when I didn't need it.
Just as with my relationships, I like to take care of my things. Making my wife laugh, sending a message to a friend, painting the house. Sometimes I rescue old objects and give them a new life. Behind me sits a cabinet - I bought it for next to nothing, and it's incredibly useful. Ten years ago, with some hours of work, I completely restored it. It’s beautiful, sturdy, and perfect. It had been thrown away by someone who considered it old and outdated, only to replace it with a fragile piece of furniture from a well-known chain. To each their own, sure. But taking care of what you own is an act of respect.
I replied to that email. Yes, the software is currently complete. I will take care of it. I will ensure that bugs are fixed. And if I ever have new requirements, I will resume development. But as of today, it has solved my problem and it works excellently. Why should I add useless "stuff" just for the sake of expanding it? For whom? For what? I gain nothing from it. I don't have to sell it. And even if I did, I would rather sell an effective, working product than a constant, never-ending process of fixing something that is perpetually buggy and incomplete.
Not "continuous integration", but "boring software" that does its job.
And this is perfectly aligned with my business ethos: I would rather stop growing indefinitely and take care of my current clients than start hiring incompetent people just to make numbers and provide a service that doesn't meet my expectations.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/06/the-virtue-of-finished-things/
Photo by Dario Morandotti on Unsplash
A little while ago, I took the clean laundry off the drying rack and opened the drawer. The plan was to fold everything neatly, but I handled it exactly like I did back in my university days: I just dumped everything in a heap, much to my wife’s amusement.
Shortly after, wanting to make myself useful and to quickly escape the "crime scene", I went out to take out the trash. The sky was already dark, with the first signs of frost appearing on the plants. I decided to take the long way around, breathing in that crisp, biting air of a new year.
As I walk in the evening, my eyes are drawn to the lit houses. And in every house, I find myself thinking, there is an entire universe. The universe of the people living there. Their relationships, their pleasures, and their pains. Their affections - often jealously guarded in the warmth of their own homes. Just like their secrets, their valuables, and their memories.
Where do they put their socks? I wonder if they, too, sometimes just toss them in like I did earlier. Maybe someone there is laughing, like my wife. Or maybe someone is starting to yell, as many others would. Or maybe there is silence - a silence worse than laughter or shouting. Is this a season of joy or sadness for them? What are their problems right at this moment? Are they cooking their favorite dish or some tasteless broth? Perhaps they are dreaming of going out to a restaurant tonight. Or, perhaps, they have other things on their minds. Has the new year started well, or are they still carrying the weight of the past year? And I wonder if they will still be there at the end of this year. Or if they will simply still be there, behind those lights, doing the same things they are doing right now. Focused on the same old things - or free, in mind and body, moving toward something new. Maybe folding their socks, absent-mindedly, getting ready for a new workday.
Lost in my thoughts, I run into a neighbor, who tells me about the beautiful evening he had yesterday. He had a clear, bright, happy look in his eyes. His son had come to visit, and they had spent the evening together. He shared his contagious joy with me, and I started walking back home. I looked at those houses again, thinking that they probably do fold their socks - always - maybe while thinking of something else entirely, remembering happy moments or dreaming of running away.
Then I see my own windows, the light on. And I know that behind that light is my wife, listening to her favorite music. And behind the other light is my chair, the one I am about to return to. Behind those walls is the life I have built. My universe.
I close the windows now; it is dark. I wouldn’t want someone passing by to think that I actually tossed my laundry in like that.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/01/the-universes-behind-the-lights/
Walking away from the BSDCan final reception at Lowertown Brewery, Ottawa. The perfect end to a life-changing experience.
A peculiar year is coming to a close. Looking at world news, it has been a heavy one, with the lingering fear that the next might be even worse. Right at the start of the year (in one way) and toward the end (in another), some truly heavy things happened that were hard to digest. So, let’s focus on the positives.
The year kicked off with the announcement of FediMeteo (https://fedimeteo.com) and the warm, enthusiastic response it received.
I participated as a speaker in three conferences, all of them exceptional:
- OSDay 2025 (https://osday.dev/) - which brought me back to beautiful Florence after many years. I met fantastic people and learned a lot, stepping out of my "bubble." I spoke about BSD to many people who had never even heard of it.
- BSDCan 2025 (https://www.bsdcan.org/2025/) - which took me to the American continent for the first time. I saw old friends and finally met new ones in person (people I had been in contact with online for years, but never face-to-face). I saw the city of Ottawa and experienced, at least in part, its atmosphere. I truly hope to go back soon. It was a fantastic event with wonderful people that made me feel at home, even if I was almost "halfway across the world". Chatting with the president of the NetBSD Foundation at the final reception and discovering a shared childhood passion (the Amiga) was the icing on the cake.
- EuroBSDCon 2025 (https://2025.eurobsdcon.org/) - Zagreb is stunning, but the best part was being part of another marvelous event. Seeing some people again after a year, others after just a few months, and meeting many new friends. Strengthening bonds with people I’d stayed in touch with after Dublin was an unforgettable experience. Participating in the FreeBSD dev summit and Eurobhyvecon, then eating pizza in a random spot in Zagreb with one of my favorite authors is something I’ll never forget.
I met a friend in person in Bologna (something I really cared about), and we spent an unforgettable day together.
I reconnected with old friends and former neighbors; we got together for dinner several times, culminating in a trip to our favorite amusement park. After so many years, it was as if nothing had changed - sharing a truly memorable experience.
I launched a few projects, including BSSG (https://bssg.dragas.net/) and the illumos Cafe (https://illumos.cafe), as well as new services for the BSD Cafe (https://bsd.cafe). I handed out many stickers - though never enough; someone always misses out.
On the work front, I started new projects, closed others, gained a few great clients, and let go of a couple I couldn't wait to part with.
Thanks to some fantastic people who indirectly gave me the idea, I resumed writing on my personal blog. And thanks to one person who pushed and encouraged me, I started writing more than just my usual tech rants or technical articles; I’ve started sharing parts of my life and my memories.
I’ve eaten many pizzas, drunk many coffees, and had a few tiramisus. But mostly, I've met fantastic human beings who made me feel optimistic and gave me the energy to keep going with all of this. The world is full of negative noise emitted by a few, but fortunately, there are many positive figures who often remain in silence.
For all of this, I have to say thank you to the fantastic communities of BSD Cafe, illumos Cafe, and the general communities surrounding these great operating systems. They are the ones who pushed me forward and make me feel excited every morning about what a new day will bring. The positive atmosphere I breathed among these people - never as an outsider, but always as an old friend - was exactly the oxygen I needed in this phase of my life.
And I must thank (dulcis in fundo) my wife: she supports me, accompanies me, and pushes me. She is a special person in every possible way.
I wish you all a wonderful 2026, in the hope that the world stops spinning toward the spiral of madness it has been caught in lately and brings more positivity to everyone. The plan already includes:
- Many more pizzas.
- Many more tiramisus.
- Coffee.
- A wedding we've been invited to and will happily attend.
- Conferences - I won't waste any more time; I want to experience that atmosphere as much as possible, with my usual Smile(TM).
- Writing a lot - both on the tech blog and the personal one - and more (spoiler).
- Meeting friends and making new ones. Friendship isn't about geographical proximity; it’s about mental affinity. Even if we think differently. Even if we are worlds apart.
- Making my wife happy.
- Remaining the BSD, illumos, and Fediverse Barista (and meteorologist), trying to bring constructiveness and positivity to the world.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2025/12/31/looking-back-at-2025-looking-forward-to-2026/
The Scent of Denial
An anonymous white bottle in a 2001 photo brings back the sharp smell of adolescence - of treatments, hidden shame, and the night I looked in the mirror and finally saw what everyone else already had.
A favorite of mine. It came around years ago on the Twitter website. I've long lost who to credit.
Thanks to detective work by those more talented than I, it appears to belong to "Ally M Hennessy", used in one of her workshops…
#networking #career #life #advice #meme
Alt...
HELLO. MY NAME IS INIGO MONTOYA. YOU KILLED MY FATHER. PREPARE TO DIE.
INIGO’S GUIDE TO NETWORKING SUCCESS
1. POLITE GREETING
2. NAME
3. RELEVANT PERSONAL LINK
4. MANAGE EXPECTATIONS
Princess Bride (the movie) themed meme. Inigo is a Spaniard - long black hair, black mustache, black eyebrows - classic fantasy swashbuckler dress.
Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto
This sentence is more than two thousand years old, and I believe it is more relevant today than ever.
Human beings have always created tools to improve their condition. Their productivity. We have invented tools for agriculture, medicine, electronics, and more. Each of these techniques and technologies has solved a problem (often creating others, but that is part of the game).
One thing I have never understood, however, is the desire to dehumanize ourselves. To remove from humans what is human. It almost seems as if the dream of many is to become machines. Productivity at all costs, even if it means crushing people, just to see numbers grow. Results achieved through shortcuts, even if that means losing something along the way.
Alongside this, there is also a push toward total standardization, stripping away the unique traits that define us as individuals.
To be human means having emotions, desires, dreams, thoughts. If we give up all of this, what is left of us?
Good morning. 📚📖☕
16 March 2026
Yesterday, Charlie and I made a Goodwill run, which means it’s time to start filling the box again. By “box,” I mean the large cardboard catch‑all in the laundry room where we toss things we no longer use but someone else might. I also drop in those little trinket gifts charities send. I never use them. Mailing labels are the lone exception — those I’ll keep.
While I was at it, I pulled a couple of old technical books off my bookcase and tossed them in the back of the truck. This morning, I want to tackle the bookcase itself and finally fit the novels that have been lounging around the house back into it. I keep telling myself I should take a break from buying new books and reread some of the ones I already own. But how does one resist a new release from a favorite author? C’est la vie. Maybe what I really need is a bigger bookcase.
I do wonder if keeping books counts as hoarding. It would certainly explain the little piles that keep appearing in my office. I mean, what do you do with a book you’ve just finished? You put it on the bookcase — or, if there’s no room, you put it next to the bookcase. Then the next one joins it, and the next, and so on. Eventually you look at the growing stack and think, Well, I really need to do something about that. And so it becomes out with the old and in with the new.
My library has been slowly shifting from books of knowledge to books that entertain. After all, I’m done with all that going‑to‑work business. Life isn’t about what I need to know anymore — it’s about what I want to know.
“Reading books is good. Rereading good books is better.” — Lawrence Clark Powell
“A room without books is like a body without a soul.” — Cicero
“One glance at a book and you hear the voice of another person… To read is to voyage through time.” — Carl Sagan
#photo #photography #photographer #photographylovers #nature #plants #books #library #life
Alt...
Wild Silks in the Wind
"A tall cluster of pampas grass rises from the ground like a soft, feathery fountain. Each plume is long and silky, tapering to a gentle point, and glows in pale shades of cream and off‑white. The sunlight catches the fine hairs on the plumes, giving them a luminous, almost cloudlike texture.
Behind the grasses, dark tree trunks stand upright, their bark rough and shadowed, creating a striking contrast with the airy softness of the pampas. Patches of deep green foliage fill the background, making the light-colored plumes appear even brighter. The overall scene feels calm and natural—an elegant moment of wild grass swaying quietly against a woodland backdrop." - Microsoft Copilot
Where Have You Been for the Last 20 Years?
A personal journey from 20 years of self-doubt to discovering the welcoming BSD community at BSDCan. Sometimes courage comes later in life.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2025/06/17/where-have-you-been-for-the-last-20-years/
The Scent of the City
A morning walk through Ferrara becomes a journey through scent and memory - from London coffee to a grandmother's market, from ancient hospital corridors to the unmistakable perfume of fresh bread.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/03/13/the-scent-of-the-city/
Sometimes the world is more beautiful when viewed through the reflection of the water.
Happiness is most beautiful when seen through the eyes of the people we love.
#Photography #Photo #Life #Reflections #ThrowbackThursday #Throwback
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An image of some trees reflected in a pool of water. The shot is very close, you can't see the puddle but only the reflection. The reflected image is more beautiful than it was in a direct way. Sometimes it is the same for happiness.
Gmornin fedifam
Ok.. Ive been up a bit but not much.
Not a lot goin on but restful days off till Sat so how about a science chew..
The Large Hadron Collider, LHC, accelerates and collides protons at close to the speed of light. According to Dr Don at Fermilab, the energy of these collisions is approximately the force of a mosquito at full speed.
The mind blowing part is they are so concentrated the collisions create temps a fraction of a second after the big bang.
Party On my peeps 😊
@olivia It makes me especially sick that it happens in times, when we should discuss the legal #personhood of #nature: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Environmental_personhood and listen much more to ideas and thoughts of indigenous people about nature (including pebbles and rocks).
This is becoming increasingly important for survival. Instead, we grant empty algorithms more #life than living #ecosystems!
A couple days ago I posted a video about the upcoming #identity verification mandates imposed by #BigTech and #governments #worldwide. It is so much worse than many people realize. Masquerading under the euphemistic guise of "age verification," this is not just a "privacy concern" but but full-blown 21st century #technofascist #dystopian #nightmare designed to #identify and track every aspect of #you and your #private #life.
#Apple and #Reddit are rolling out their own versions which require scanning your #government issued ID. Your #PII, #credit info, purchasing history, and other details about you will be stored on corporate servers, including #Palantir.
The things you do in your #private life will be recorded and tracked. Are you #trans, a #SA survivor, or have a #disability, or struggle with #addiction and are a member of related Reddit communities? #News flash: Your #privacy is gone.
Gmornin fedifam
Welp, workys on the table today and tomorrow. Covering Friday this week as my counter-part is also an artist and does popup shows and such. I call her "lil bit" and shes a sweety so I dont mind.
Crazy nice weather in paradise. In the 70s today and for a few.. I think one more serious cold snap and Spring will be here for good. 🤞
I really need to get back to projects but it takes a lotta energy and focus..maybe next week..
Aaanywho..
Party On my peeps. 😊
Quit saying that individual choices are meaningless
https://michael.kjorling.se/blog/2025/quit-saying-individual-choices-meaningless/
by @mkj
One of the reasons why, over time, I've learned not to condemn things outright is that life itself teaches you something important: sometimes you have to make the wrong choice for the right reasons.
Life is full of compromises. And the more you live, the more you learn (or should learn) to be at least a little tolerant of the choices others make, even when they seem to clash with your own convictions.
In the past few weeks I've had to make decisions I would never have imagined a few years ago. Choices very far from my own point of view. But sometimes reality pushes you into a corner, and the options are simple: give up, or make a "wrong" choice now and fix things later.
A recent example I can share: I advised a client to reinstall Windows 11. I wasn't happy about it, but at that moment there was no real alternative.
This morning he told me their software will soon move to a web-based platform. Which means the next step will be a new FreeBSD server and, at that point, the clients can move to Linux or a BSD system.
Fight your battles. Stand for what you believe in. But try to remain clear-headed.
Life teaches that you often go farther by moving slowly but steadily toward your destination, stopping every now and then to look around.
A rubber keychain shaped like a foot, a Piaggio Zip, and the sweet, terrifying taste of independence.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/03/02/the-scent-of-freedom/
Blasted off Mars and still alive
A super-tough microbe survived Mars-level impact forces, hinting that life might leap from planet to planet.
#microbes #life #Mars #panspermia
https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2026/03/260303082606.htm
The Scent of Freedom
A rubber keychain shaped like a foot, a Piaggio Zip, and the sweet, terrifying taste of independence.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/03/02/the-scent-of-freedom/
💙 It's been a tough few weeks here, a few too many things hitting at once so I haven't posted a new website gallery/article this week. Also behind on comment replies, I will catch up tonight. Thank you all, I see & appreciate you🙏
Today I managed to get out and explore an abandoned theatre, a nice one! The sun was shining, today was a good day.
Thought I would share this photo of 2 pigeons, that were cussing me for taking photos in their home.
#Photographer #Abandoned #Life #MentalHealth
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two pigeons ontop of a Fire Exit sign in an abandoned building
179 Euros
A 179 Euro purchase in 2010 seemed like a splurge. 16 years later, that appliance has survived moves, earthquakes, and snowstorms, becoming a silent witness to my life's changes.
A 179 Euro purchase in 2010 seemed like a splurge. 16 years later, that appliance has survived moves, earthquakes, and snowstorms, becoming a silent witness to my life's changes.
Some people
just don't seem
to understand
that agitation
can drift in any direction
#freedom #equality #mastodon #fediverse #people #humanity #humanrights #life #rushing #world #YouWinAgainSi #love #hatred #hate
Was going to keep today a Do Stuff day so I could zombie my way through that (recovering from being up several hours earlier than I'm used to & having to people & adult most of yesterday) so I can actually enjoy my duvet day tomorrow.
Enter fly in the ointment.
Tomorrow is more going out & peopling 😱. Then next weekend Saturday is more peopling & being social at friends' (shared) birthday.
Problem with this picture, Saturdays & Mondays are usually duvet days.
One positive is, I've already tackled today's adulting, phoning my Mam so hopefully she won't phone me later today 🤞.
Can I book my 12 month cryostasis treatment now!?
No, I'm not asking for a friend.
#AuDHD #Autistic #ADHD #ActuallyADHD #ActuallyAutistic #Burnout #Spoons #NoSpoons
#SelfCare #Life
Got called in.
Under normal circumstances, I would have said no, but when 20-somethin calls in tears because she thinks shes having a miscarriage..you go in.
Ive only been out of the house once the last week, and within armlength of only a cashier and bagger.
Aaaand Im sick.
Sigh..
Sometimes in life you have to stop when you least expect it.
Sometimes all you can do is... wait.
Alt...
View from inside a car stopped at a railway crossing with the barrier down and a red signal light on. A small residential neighborhood is visible ahead under a cloudy sky.
Consciousness could last hours after ‘death’
Medics have been urged to reconsider our final moments as a ‘gradual, interruptible process’ — and reconsider how long they spend trying to resuscitate patients
#Cosmic first: #Supermassive #Black hole caught “turning on” in real-time : Medium
#RNA strand that can almost self-replicate may be key to #Life's origins : New Sci
This inside-out #Planetary system has #Astronomers scratching their heads : Misc
Latest #KnowledgeLinks
https://knowledgezone.co.in/resources/bookmarks
The Doctor's Eyes
Curious minds never grow old. Their fear isn't aging, but running out of time to learn.
Gmornin fedifam
Welp.. yesterday was a bust. All the plans, none of the energy. Just couldnt shake the cobwebs so I just went with it and napped it out.
I did get a little done.. cleared out and washed all the old food fridge containers and started a crock pot of bacon beans which is currently smellin up the house nice and purty..lol
Hooefully Ill get my mojo back and try another run at project.. we'll see..
Party On and make sure to do a little takin care of you time
An intriguing read. It confirms a theory about life I've had for a long time…
( No paywall: https://archive.is/FtA31 )
#science #life #brain #neuroscience #biology #research #knowledge #info #information #reading #article
Curious minds never grow old. Their fear isn't aging, but running out of time to learn.
Up, 16 Years Later
A new pair of earbuds triggers a sudden journey back 16 years.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/02/14/up-16-years-later/
#MyNotes #Life #Reflections #Blogging #Memories #LifeLessons
healthcare [SENSITIVE CONTENT]
The real reasons people love playing games
A seemingly trivial practice has deep benefits—but there are times we simply don’t get them.
https://www.vox.com/podcasts/479253/games-play-benefits-philosophy-thi-nguyen-score-book#health #life #mental-health #podcasts #the-gray-area
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A Settlers of Catan game board with a hand, wearing a ring, moving pieces on it
As a guy born in 1982, I feel the urge to share this video with you guys.
Xennials... we exist! 😉
The greatest joke played on me by the people that stole my #home, my #life, my #purpose, my #friends and #neighbors, and my #community is that I will be living in one of things I hate most in this world. A #car.
I have some pieces for my-notes that would be, in many ways, much better than what I’ve been posting lately.
But I can’t write them. Or, at the very least, I can’t publish them.
And this is fantastic on the one hand, but a sort of curse on the other. Who knows, maybe one day I will, perhaps in a less direct way.
It might seem sad, but it’s actually the opposite: when some of the best parts of your life can’t be told, it means you’ve lived through some definitely interesting experiences.
A sleepless night, a thought about the day I arrived and the day I'll leave.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/02/08/arrivals-and-departures/
Gmornin fedifam
Well then.. Im up at normal morning for some reason.. mmmk..
No plans for today but no raman yesterday so thats still hangin out and a maybe..
Weather is decent.. maybe a little rain sprinkle later today but in general, dealable.
Later today Ill prolly get back to project. 3d printing when the weather is bad is askin for probs so thats clear now
Also got some celery and carrots that need cooked, might make chicken soup..
Party On and have a little you time today
A distracted driver, a motorcycle crash, and the terrifying wait to see if I would ever walk again.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/02/02/the-weight-of-a-millimeter/
#MyNotes #Blogging #Life #Reflections #Memories #WiFi #Hacking
Bruce Springsteen Won’t Back Down: Performs “Streets of Minneapolis” Live in Minneapolis
When the history books are written, we’ll remember the politicians, law firms, and CEOs who ...
https://www.openculture.com/2026/02/bruce-springsteen-wont-back-down-performs-streets-of-minneapolis-live-in-minneapolis.html#current-affairs #life #music
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An image pulled automatically from the post for decorative purposes only.
The Weight of a Millimeter
A distracted driver, a motorcycle crash, and the terrifying wait to see if I would ever walk again.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/02/02/the-weight-of-a-millimeter/
#MyNotes #Blogging #Life #Reflections #Memories #Blogging #WiFi #Hacking
The KUOW Book Club is embarking on a winter series of book talks in partnership with The Seattle Public Library this month. Our first pick is Coll Thrush's "Wrecked: Unsettling Histories from the Graveyard of the Pacific."
Thrush will join us for a live interview at the Seattle Central Library on Feb. 26. Register for free here.
https://www.kuow.org/stories/kuow-book-club-seattle-public-library-live-series-coll-thrush-wrecked
#KUOW #News #Books #Literature #Arts #ArtsAndLife #Life #History #Books
Snowy gmornin fedifam
Well, its here. Couple inches so far and still comin down.
Since I only work Sat/Sun and called in icey storm last week, I told em Id do my best to get there today..shift is 4p-12a. Ill try but if it gets silly Im just goin back home.
Stay warm and safe my fedifam
Alt...
Snow covered parking lot and apt canopy
Alt...
Weather app showing 17 degrees with moderate snow
Gmornin fedifam
Well.. Its my last full day off on this run. The weather is scheduled to be snowy single digits Sat/Sun for my work inconvenience. Ive got some concerns about my 250k mile car starting up at 4 degrees. Thatll be interesting..
Last couple days I got house cleaning, laundry, groceries and garbage taken care of, so at least the basics are covered and done.
Doin a regroup and refigure on project, but on hold till after workys.
Party On and stay warm and safe my peoples
I feel closely related to the Xenoturbella…
#animal #animals #life #sea #biology #science #knowledge #interesting #info #information
Alt...
Today | learned about the Xenoturbella, an organism without brain, eyes and organs with just one hole (for food to get in and out again). It just slides through the deep sea floor, existing for no clear reason.
The Scent of a Photo
My smartphone just showed me a photo, taken exactly four years ago today. I published it on the Fediverse back then, showing nothing but enthusiasm for the great takeout food we had ordered.
The truth was different.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/28/the-scent-of-a-photo/
What was it like when #DarkEnergy rose to prominence? : Medium
#AI could be your next line #Manager : Misc
Why #Europa Might Not Have #Life After All : Misc
Latest #KnowledgeLinks
https://knowledgezone.co.in/resources/bookmarks
My smartphone just showed me a photo, taken exactly four years ago today. I published it on the Fediverse back then, showing nothing but enthusiasm for the great takeout food we had ordered.
The truth was different.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/28/the-scent-of-a-photo/
What do these people actually mean when they shout that man is a machine? It is, as I’ve suggested, that human beings are ‘‘computable’’ (berechenbar), that they are not distinct from other objects in the world, in any way deserving of special respect or even attention. This then leads, at first gradually and then with exponentially increasing speed, to a view of human beings as mere objects who—no! Not who, that—can be exploited, inducted in killing machines, imprisoned, tortured, killed (providing they are ‘‘enemy combatants’’). It leads to the American military sponsoring programs to produce robot soldiers. What is then left of Norbert Wiener’s vision of the human use of human beings? And does not our world show us with utmost clarity how far we have already come?#AI #ComputerScience #human #life #TormentNexus #machinicI want here to emphasize, especially to this audience, that all this is not the fault of the computer. Guilt cannot be attributed to computers. But computers enable fantasies, many of them wonderful, but also those of people whose compulsion to play God overwhelms their ability to fathom the consequences of their attempt to turn their nightmares into reality.
Perhaps the most (in)famous and illustrious American computer scientist and acknowledged principal pioneer of the discipline now known as artificial intelligence (AI), Professor Marvin Minsky of MIT, once pronounced—a belief he still holds—that ‘‘the brain is merely a meat machine.’’ It is significant that the English language distinguishes between ‘‘flesh’’ on the one hand, and ‘‘meat’’ on the other. The latter is dead and may be eaten, thrown in the garbage, fed to pigs, and so on. Flesh, on the other hand, is living matter and, as such, deserves the respect and dignity for life of which, among others, Albert Schweitzer spoke eloquently. The word ‘‘merely’’ in Minsky’s sentence means essentially ‘‘nothing but,’’ that is, also not deserving unusual respect. His statement is a clear reflection of a profound contempt for life that, as I see it, is shared explicitly by important sectors of the AI community, the artificial intelligentsia, as well as many scientists, engineers, and ordinary people. Daniel C. Dennett, an important American philosopher, once said that we must give up our awe of life if we are to make further progress in AI.From Weizenbaum, Joseph (2007). Social and Political Impact of the Long-term History of Computing
The tipping point. #grickledoodle #minotaur #myths #maze #life #cartoon #art #drawing #funny
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A cartoon illustration of an introspective Minotaur lying in bed after his 6am alarm has just sounded. Caption reads "As his alarm sounded the Minotaur realized he had no love left for guarding the maze the rest of his life. Things needed to change."
Goood mornin fedifam
Luckily, icey storm crazy weather didnt hit as hard as it coulda, power stayed on, and my 1/2 gallon of milk lasted. lol. Currently just cold at 18F/Feels like 2F. Brrr.
Pretty much lazy day today. No gottas but I might do laundry.. maybe..
Kinda chewin on project and decidin whether to remodel and keep the big face/servos or scale down to smaller face/servos and keep the current battery stuff.. choices..
Aaaanywho..
Party On and gitcha a hot chocolate today. 😊
Looking up from reading, it strikes me that the snake plants were intentional on either side. That because I reuse soil after it lays dormant about 6 months, that some seeds made it through...the coral plants and the avocado tree.
That will be a project, replanting those. But live is #life.
Na na na na na.
(Long walk 🤣🤣🤣)
Alt...
A long grey planter, indoors, against a wall painted in Sherwyn Williams seashell, containing snake plants on either side, and an avocado tree.
Gmornin fedifam
Welp, my sleep schedule has wandered back upside down.. Im up on the wrong side of dawn..yay.. but I did get thru an Iron Chef Japan marathon..so.. I got that goin for me
Cold front comes thru today and its gonna get icy for a couple days looks like. Crossin my fingers on electricity. Ive got enuf everything for at least a week so.. bring it
Big bump on project Ill report more later.. just a big ugh.
Party On and gitcha some soup. Nice, hot soup.😁
Despite growing concerns about overtourism, Japan remains the top destination for international travelers in 2026 — and data suggests the gap with other contenders is widening. https://www.japantimes.co.jp/life/2026/01/24/travel/travel-japan-world-rankings-tokyo-kyoto-osaka/?utm_medium=Social&utm_source=mastodon #life #travel #travel #overtourism #tokyo #osaka #kyoto
Good mornin fedifam
Little bit project hungover this mornin.. I made an executiv e decision to use bigger servos so I had a buncha modeling to redo.. stayed up till 7am hammerin that...
Also decided to sleep on it before setting it all loose on the printer..cuz.. sleepys
My window says its bright and shiny outside so I might make a run for some stuff if I can finish coffee before the surrounding schools lock up the roads.
Party On. Ya only get one ticket so enjoy the ride..
7 unnecessary #Assumptions about #Life in the #Universe : Medium
#AI’s #Memorization #Crisis : Misc
Why Finding #Motivation Is Often Such a #Struggle : Misc
Latest #KnowledgeLinks
https://knowledgezone.co.in/resources/bookmarks
Welp fedifam, Im on weird time. Woke up from a "nap" at like 3am, stayed up 3dmodeling for a while, ate, then snoozed it out till..looks at clock..yeaaa..
Nothin major on the schedule, no gottas or even shoulds. Ill wander back to 3dmodeling after some coffee and maybe "breakfast".
Just a lazy day and Im good with that.
Party On and keep the electric blanket on..warm bed is so nice 😊
💚🧡🖤🤍💚🧡🖤🤍💚🧡🖤🤍💚🧡🖤🤍
#birds #animals #animal #nature #naturelover #naturelovers #wildlife #art #arts #artnet #life
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an image of a chickadee-type of bird, not sure what kind, maybe an oriole, orange colored with a white collar and dark eye patches, really cute, flying towards the viewer, green grass under it and blurred trees behind it
The Mechanically Perfect Lie
A loud noise outside my window brings back a memory from 2002. The night I truly could have died.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/11/the-mechanically-perfect-lie/
A loud noise outside my window brings back a memory from 2002. The night I truly could have died.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/11/the-mechanically-perfect-lie/