Aug 10, 2026
4 min read
801 words
My 12-year-old wanted to build a weather station. So we did the responsible thing and looked at the most expensive sensors we could find — there are ultrasonic wind meters out there for a thousand dollars — and then we looked at what was already in the house. A micro:bit, an Arduino, a small TFT screen, and a plastic food container.
The food container is now cable-tied to a stake in the garden, in the spot he picked after trying it in most of the others.
Aug 6, 2026
2 min read
327 words
There’s a particular kind of vertigo that comes from watching an AI agent read eight years of your own writing back to you. Not summarise it — reconstitute it, line by line, into a new home, complete with the typos you’d forgotten you made.
I didn’t plan this. Someone mentioned the old EndGame Medium posts still existed somewhere, half-remembered, the way old projects do — and the next thing I knew I’d pointed an agent at a Medium export and asked it to bring them back to life. Which it did. All 18 of them. Including one where the entire body text is nine words long (turns out I once published a Medium post that was, verbatim, just “Thanks for this, the book was a great read!” — we quietly agreed to retire that one).