In Summary: * The rains have finally stopped over my little corner of God's green Earth and the drying out begins. It will still be a few days until the ground is dry enough for the lawn mower to venture out on it, but I can use the weed-eater and the manual edging tool. I used the edging tool today to remove some of the more obnoxious weed and grass patches that had creeped from the lawn out onto the sidewalk where they don't belong. Following my pattern of working for awhile then resting for awhile I put in three hours of yard work midday. And, Lord, did it ever wipe me out! I hope to do more tomorrow.

Tonight I've got a baseball game to follow and the night prayers before I put these old bones to bed.

Prayers, etc.: * I have a daily prayer regimen I try to follow throughout the day from early morning, as soon as I roll out of bed, until head hits pillow at night.

Health Metrics: * bw= 231.49 lbs. * bp= 140/84 (82)

Exercise: * morning stretches, balance exercises, kegel pelvic floor exercises, half squats, calf raises, wall push-ups, BP breathing exercises, pilates

Diet: * 05:00 – 1 banana * 05:55 – pizza * 09:00 – snacking on fresh pineapple chunks and fresh melon chunks * 14:30 – home made stew, fresh mango

Activities, Chores, etc.: * 04:00 – listen to local news talk radio * 04:35 – bank accounts activity monitored. * 05:00 – read, write, pray, follow news reports from various sources, surf the socials, nap * 07:30 – load weekly pill boxes * 10:30 – assemble lawn edge trimmer tool * 11:00 to 14:00 – yard work, mostly edging and trim on the front yard * 14:30 to 15:30 – watch old game shows and eat lunch at home with Sylvia * 16:20 – listening to general sports talk on 105.3 The Fan, DFW's #1 Sports Station

Chess: * 09:30 – moved in all pending CC games

I have nothing to write tonight. I’ll just leave you with a photo:

---

Calgary Stampede

W

Chapter 1: The Morning You Stop Asking Yourself to Be Everything

The house is quiet, but your mind is already moving. You have not put your feet on the floor yet, and you are already thinking about what needs to be fixed, answered, paid, carried, remembered, and explained. The day has not begun, but somehow you feel behind. You may have come here looking for a Jesus-centered message for the day ahead, or you may need Christian encouragement when life feels heavy because you are tired of being the person who always seems to hold everything together.

There is a strange pressure that comes with being dependable. People trust you because you usually show up. They call because you usually answer. They hand you the hard thing because you have handled hard things before. Over time, that can become part of your identity. You stop saying, “I am carrying a lot,” and start telling yourself, “I should be able to carry all of it.”

That is where the weight begins to change. Responsibility is one thing. Believing everything depends on you is another. One can make you faithful. The other can quietly make you afraid. You begin to think that if you slow down, someone will be disappointed. If you ask for help, someone will lose confidence in you. If you admit that you are tired, the whole structure may come apart.

A woman I imagine sitting at the edge of her bed has already checked her phone twice. There is a message from work, a reminder about an appointment, and a note from a family member asking whether she can help with one more thing. None of the requests is cruel. None of them looks overwhelming on its own. But together they feel like hands reaching for pieces of her before she has had one quiet moment to remember that she is a person too.

She tells herself to be grateful. She has people who need her. She has work to do. She has a life that matters. All of that is true. But gratitude does not cancel weariness. Loving people does not mean you never need rest. Being faithful does not mean you are supposed to live as though you have no limits.

Jesus never asks people to pretend they are limitless.

That matters because many of us have built a private religion around being useful. We may believe in grace for everyone else, but not for ourselves. We tell other people to rest, then feel guilty when we sit down. We remind friends that they do not have to earn God’s love, then live as though our own value depends on how much we finish before bedtime.

Jesus speaks into that pressure with one of the gentlest invitations in the Gospels. He says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

He does not say, “Come to me when the list is finished.”

He does not say, “Come to me after you have solved the problem.”

He does not say, “Come to me once you have become strong enough to stop needing help.”

He says, “Come to me.”

That is the lesson at the heart of this message. Jesus does not meet you only at the end of your strength. He meets you in the middle of the ordinary morning, before you know how the day will unfold. He meets you while the phone is still full of messages, the bill is still unpaid, the relationship is still uncertain, and the answer has not yet arrived.

We often think rest means the absence of responsibility. Jesus offers something deeper. He offers the kind of rest that comes from knowing you are not carrying responsibility alone. The situation may remain real, but it no longer has to become your entire identity. The task may still need your attention, but it does not have to own your peace.

This is not an invitation to ignore what matters. Jesus is not teaching carelessness. He is teaching trust. He is showing us that faithfulness does not require panic. You can do the next right thing without pretending you control every outcome.

The woman at the edge of the bed still has to stand up. She still has to answer some messages. She still has to decide what can wait and what cannot. But before she does any of that, she can stop for one honest minute.

She can say, “Jesus, I am trying to carry more than You asked me to carry.”

That sentence may be the beginning of freedom.

Some burdens belong to the day. Other burdens come from the stories we tell ourselves about the day. We believe we must keep everyone happy. We believe one mistake will undo everything. We believe needing help will make us less trustworthy. We believe a good Christian should always feel calm, certain, and ready.

Jesus does not require that performance.

Look at the people who come to Him. They arrive with questions, fear, grief, confusion, and imperfect faith. Some ask clearly. Some barely know what they need. Some are brought by friends because they cannot reach Him alone. Jesus does not shame them for coming in weakness. Their need is the reason they come.

That is still true.

You do not need to turn your prayer into a speech. You can simply tell the truth. “I am afraid.” “I am tired.” “I do not know what to do.” “I need help with this day.”

There is strength in that kind of honesty because it places you back inside reality. You are not God. You are not responsible for holding the whole world together. You are a human being loved by God, invited to walk with Him one day at a time.

One day at a time sounds simple until you have been living three weeks ahead in your mind. Many people are not only carrying today. They are carrying tomorrow’s meeting, next month’s expense, the possible phone call, the imagined argument, and the future disappointment. Their bodies are standing in the kitchen, but their minds are already living through a dozen things that have not happened.

Jesus tells us not to carry tomorrow’s trouble before tomorrow arrives. That does not mean tomorrow is unimportant. It means tomorrow has not yet been placed in your hands.

You have this morning.

You have this breath.

You have the next faithful choice.

Maybe that choice is making the call. Maybe it is waiting before you respond. Maybe it is asking someone to help. Maybe it is saying no to one request so you can say yes to what truly matters. Maybe it is sitting quietly for ten minutes without calling the pause laziness.

The goal is not to become less caring. The goal is to stop confusing love with self-erasure.

Jesus serves people deeply, but He also steps away to pray. He responds to need, but He does not allow every demand to set His direction. He loves people without handing them ownership of His peace.

That is a hopeful lesson for those of us who are learning to live with limits. A boundary can be an act of wisdom. Rest can be an act of trust. Asking for help can be an act of humility. Slowing down can make room to hear what fear has been drowning out.

You may discover that not everything is as urgent as it feels. You may find that some people can carry more than you have allowed them to carry. You may realize that one unfinished task does not make you a failure. You may begin to see that God is still at work in places you cannot manage.

That is where hope returns, not as a sudden burst of emotion, but as a quieter understanding: this day does not belong to fear. It belongs to God.

You can enter it without having every answer.

You can enter it without proving yourself.

You can enter it knowing that Jesus is already present in the places you have not reached.

The woman at the edge of the bed finally puts her feet on the floor. The messages are still there. The appointment still matters. The family member may still need help. But she is no longer beginning the day with the belief that everything rests on her shoulders.

She whispers, “Walk with me.”

Then she stands.

That may be what you need today. Not a complete plan for the next year. Not a sudden answer to every question. Not enough strength to carry every possible future.

You may only need to remember that Jesus is not waiting for you after the day is over. He is with you as it begins.

There is still grace for this day.

And there is enough of it for the next step.

Chapter 2: The Afternoon You Stop Measuring Grace by Productivity

At 2:17 in the afternoon, the kitchen table is covered with papers. A laptop is open beside a half-finished cup of coffee. A yellow legal pad holds a list that began with six items and somehow grew to twelve. One task is crossed out. Two more have been added. The person sitting there has been busy all day, yet the only thing they can see is what remains undone.

This is one of the quiet ways discouragement enters ordinary life. It does not always arrive as a crisis. Sometimes it arrives as a list. It arrives through the feeling that you should have done more by now, answered faster, moved farther, helped better, prayed longer, or handled the day with more confidence.

We can become so used to measuring our lives by output that we begin measuring grace the same way. A productive day feels blessed. An unproductive day feels wasted. A clear answer feels like God is near. A slow season feels like He has stepped away.

But Jesus does not teach us to judge our worth by how much we finish.

He lives in a world full of work, responsibility, interruption, and need. People search for Him. Crowds gather. The sick call His name. Religious leaders question Him. His disciples misunderstand Him. There is always another person to help and another place He could go.

Yet Jesus does not live in panic.

He works with purpose, but He is not driven by the fear that everything will collapse if He pauses. He makes room for prayer. He sits at tables. He walks instead of rushing. He notices individuals in the middle of crowds. He does not allow urgency to erase presence.

That is important because many of us have been taught to admire exhaustion. We call it commitment when someone never stops. We praise the person who answers every message, accepts every request, and keeps producing while their inner life grows thin.

Jesus shows a different kind of strength. He gives Himself fully without treating Himself as a machine.

There is a moment in the Gospels when the disciples are overwhelmed by the number of people coming and going. They barely have time to eat. Jesus tells them to come away with Him to a quiet place and rest.

He does not shame them for needing a pause. He does not tell them that truly faithful people keep working until they collapse. He recognizes that tired people need more than another demand. They need space to recover.

Rest is not always sleep. Sometimes rest is the end of pretending. It is the moment you stop trying to prove that you can manage everything alone. It is the moment you let someone else know that you are struggling. It is the decision to leave one task unfinished because your body, mind, or family needs your attention.

The person at the kitchen table looks at the legal pad and feels guilty. There are still emails to answer. The laundry is waiting. Someone needs a ride later. A form is due tomorrow. The temptation is to keep pushing until every box is checked.

But there will always be another box.

If peace must wait until nothing remains to be done, peace will never come.

Jesus offers rest in the middle of unfinished life. That does not remove responsibility. It changes the spirit in which responsibility is carried. The work becomes something you do, not the judge that tells you whether you deserve to feel good about yourself.

This can be difficult to accept, especially for people who learned early that approval had to be earned. Maybe praise came only when you performed well. Maybe love felt warmer when you were useful. Maybe mistakes brought embarrassment rather than guidance. Those experiences can follow you into adulthood.

You may now be the person everyone can depend on, while secretly fearing that people will stop valuing you if you stop producing.

Jesus does not love you that way.

Before Jesus begins His public ministry, before the crowds, miracles, sermons, and long roads, He hears the Father call Him beloved. Love comes before public accomplishment.

That order matters.

Beloved first. Work second.

Many of us reverse it. We work in the hope that we will finally feel worthy of love. We perform, achieve, help, and carry, hoping that someone will eventually say, “Now you are enough.”

The message of Jesus begins somewhere else. You are invited into love before you complete the list. You are called near before you have all the answers. Grace is not a paycheck handed over after a successful day. It is the ground beneath your feet while you learn how to live.

This does not mean effort is meaningless. Work can be an expression of love. Responsibility can be holy. Finishing a difficult task can bring real satisfaction. Jesus is not asking us to become careless or passive.

He is freeing us from the belief that our productivity creates our value.

There is a father who comes home after a long day and sits in the driveway for a moment. He has unfinished work on his laptop. His mind is full of numbers, deadlines, and conversations. Inside the house, his son is waiting to show him a drawing.

The father has a choice that looks small but carries weight. He can enter the house still belonging to the office, or he can pause long enough to become present.

The work matters. The deadline is real. But so is the child holding the paper.

Sometimes the next faithful step is not doing more. It is noticing what is already in front of you.

Jesus is always noticing. He notices the woman who touches the edge of His clothing while the crowd presses around Him. He notices Zacchaeus in a tree. He notices the widow giving two small coins. He notices the person everyone else treats as background.

He is not only efficient. He is present.

That may be the lesson for this afternoon. You do not need to earn the right to be present in your own life. You do not need to rush past every small gift because a larger task is waiting.

Drink the coffee while it is still warm. Listen when someone you love is speaking. Step outside and feel the air. Let your prayer be a real conversation instead of another assignment to complete.

The day is not valuable only because of what you produce. It is also valuable because you are alive inside it.

There are people who reach the end of a busy week and cannot remember any part of it clearly. They completed many things, but they were not present for them. Their body moved through the days while their mind kept racing toward the next demand.

Jesus keeps bringing us back to the moment where love can actually happen.

You cannot encourage the person in front of you while living entirely in tomorrow. You cannot receive today’s peace while mentally rehearsing every possible problem. You cannot notice grace if you only look at what remains unfinished.

The person at the kitchen table closes the laptop for ten minutes. Nothing dramatic happens. No angel enters the room. The list does not disappear.

They stand, stretch, and walk to the window. The afternoon light falls across the floor. For the first time that day, they notice how quiet the house is. They breathe without looking at the clock.

Then they pray, “Jesus, help me live this day, not just complete it.”

That prayer changes the measure of the afternoon.

Success is no longer defined only by how many boxes are crossed out. It includes whether patience is preserved, whether love is noticed, whether truth is told, and whether the soul remains open to God.

Some tasks still need to be finished. The laptop will reopen. The form will be completed. The ride will be given. But the person returns to the work with a different understanding.

They are not working to become worthy.

They are working from the security of being loved.

That difference can change the way a whole life feels.

You may still have much to do today. Do what belongs to you with care. Let some things wait when they can wait. Ask for help where help is needed. Refuse to make urgency your master.

Jesus does not lead you by keeping you anxious enough to perform. He leads you with truth, patience, and love.

There is grace in the finished task, but there is also grace in the pause.

There is grace in effort, but there is also grace in limits.

There is grace when the day goes according to plan, and there is grace when the plan has to change.

Your life is not falling behind because you stop long enough to receive what Jesus is giving you in the present moment.

The list can remain on the table for a few minutes.

You are still loved while the ink is drying.

Chapter 3: The Evening You Let Tomorrow Wait

At 9:36 in the evening, the house has finally become still. The dishes are drying beside the sink. A lamp is on in the living room. Somewhere down the hall, a child is sleeping, and the television is playing quietly even though no one is watching it. A man sits on the couch with his phone in his hand, reading the same message for the third time. It is not bad news exactly. It is only another question that will not be answered tonight.

He has spent the day trying to be responsible. He worked, returned calls, helped someone who needed him, and handled the ordinary problems that appear without asking permission. Now the day is over, but his mind will not let it end. It has moved into tomorrow. It is trying to predict the outcome of a conversation, prepare for a bill, solve a family problem, and protect everyone from possibilities that have not happened.

This is where many people lose the rest Jesus offers. They finish today’s work, but they keep carrying tomorrow in their thoughts. The body sits in one room while the mind lives in five possible futures. None of those futures is certain, but each one feels heavy enough to steal the peace of the present moment.

Jesus speaks gently but clearly about this. He tells us not to worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will have its own concerns. He is not saying that planning is wrong or that consequences do not matter. He is reminding us that tomorrow is not ours to live tonight.

There is wisdom in preparing. There is also wisdom in knowing when preparation has become fear wearing the clothes of responsibility.

The man on the couch tells himself that he is thinking things through. In truth, he is repeating the same questions without finding a new answer. He believes the repetition may eventually give him control. It does not. It only leaves him more tired.

Jesus offers another way. He teaches us to receive life as daily bread. Not yearly bread. Not enough certainty for every possible future. Daily bread means that grace comes close to the place where we are actually standing.

This does not always satisfy the part of us that wants a complete map. We would rather know how everything turns out. We want proof that the relationship will heal, the opportunity will come, the treatment will work, the money will be enough, and the people we love will be safe.

Sometimes Jesus gives a clear answer. Sometimes He gives enough light for only the next step.

That can feel small until you realize how often life is changed by small faithful steps. A conversation begins because someone finally tells the truth. A door opens because someone sends one application. A relationship softens because one person chooses patience. A frightened person sleeps because they place the phone down and stop trying to solve tomorrow at midnight.

Hope is not always the feeling that everything will be easy. Sometimes hope is the decision to believe that God will still be present when tomorrow arrives.

That is one of the most uplifting truths Jesus gives us. He does not only promise help for this moment. He teaches us that God is already faithful in every place we have not reached. We do not have to travel into the future alone in our imagination. When the actual day comes, grace will be there too.

The man sets his phone on the table. The unanswered message remains unanswered. He does not suddenly understand what will happen. He simply realizes that no more wisdom is coming from reading the same words again.

He turns off the television and sits in the quiet. His prayer is not impressive. “Jesus, I have done what I can today. Help me leave the rest with You.”

That prayer is not surrender in the sense of giving up. It is surrender in the sense of putting down what was never meant to remain in his hands all night.

Some people fear that peace will make them careless. They believe worry proves that they care. But worry and love are not the same thing. Love can prepare, show up, listen, act, and remain faithful. Worry keeps circling after love has done all it can do for the moment.

Jesus cares deeply without becoming ruled by panic. He can sleep in a boat while a storm is moving around Him. The disciples see the waves and assume His rest means He does not care. Jesus stands, speaks to the storm, and shows them that calm is not indifference. Calm can come from knowing who remains present in the danger.

You may not feel calm tonight. That does not mean you have failed the lesson. Faith is not pretending the wind is quiet when it is not. Faith is remembering that Jesus is in the boat.

You may still feel concern about the child who is struggling, the job that is uncertain, the appointment you are waiting for, or the decision you must make. Concern can lead you to wise action. It can remind you to prepare, ask questions, or seek help. But when nothing more can be done tonight, you are allowed to rest.

Rest is not denial. It is trust practiced by the body.

You turn off the light because God does not.

You close your eyes because He remains awake.

You stop rehearsing the future because His presence is already there.

There will be mornings when you wake with strength. There will be afternoons when the list is manageable and the work feels meaningful. There will also be evenings when questions remain. None of these moments is outside the care of Jesus.

He meets you before the day begins, while the work is unfinished, and when the house becomes quiet again. His invitation remains the same: come close, receive what you need for this moment, and stop asking yourself to carry what belongs to God.

The man stands from the couch and checks the front door. He walks through the house, turns off the lamp, and pauses beside the room where his child is sleeping. He does not know how every problem will be solved. But he knows love is still present in the house. He knows he has reached the end of this day. He knows tomorrow has not been abandoned simply because he is going to sleep.

He returns to his room with less pressure in his chest. Not because every answer has arrived, but because he has stopped demanding that every answer arrive tonight.

This is what someone may need to hear today: you are not required to finish your whole future before you rest.

Jesus is not asking you to become fearless before you trust Him. He is asking you to bring your fear close enough for Him to carry it with you.

You can wake up tomorrow and take the next faithful step. You can make the call, ask the question, do the work, apologize if needed, try again, or choose a new direction. But tonight, you can let the day be complete.

There was grace in the morning when you felt behind. There was grace in the afternoon when the work remained unfinished. There is grace now, in the quiet, while tomorrow waits beyond the dark window.

You do not have to force hope to feel large. Let it be simple.

Jesus will still be with you when morning comes.

Your friend,

Douglas Vandergraph

Explore the complete Douglas Vandergraph Master Index: https://douglasvandergraph.com/douglas-vandergraph-master-index/

Watch Douglas Vandergraph’s faith-based videos on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@douglasvandergraph

BREAKING NEWS: Trump blasts Canada over wildfire smoke, threatens to increase tariffs.

U.S. Republican politicians from Michigan pen letter to PM Carney after wildfire smoke fills U.S. skies.

“pen letter”? wtf. lol. I have doubts.

I am not surprised that a senile dictator and his bootlicker morons are reacting to smoke like this. They are the same idiots that think democrats are capable of creating hurricanes.

Our PM can alter the jet stream and weather patterns, control wildfires, and undo decades of environmental mismanagement. I guess because he is Liberal? He just doesn’t feel like it. Would they be acting like this if we had a Conservative PM?

All the smoke from every fire in the U.S. is neatly contained within the borders of the state where the fire is occurring I guess. Just like none of their smog has ever crossed beyond the borders of the country.

Increase tariffs? Adding more tax to the things they purchase from us is a logical solution to everything! Especially as punishment for wildfire smoke! Holy smoke! The corporations love it. They will get to increase the price of everything again, and then in the end they also have a very good chance at getting all that illegal tariff money given back to them.

Texas Rangers vs Atlanta Braves

My MLB game of choice this Friday has my Texas Rangers playing the Atlanta Braves in a game scheduled to start at 6:15 PM CDT. As I usually do, I'll follow the game's score and stats in real time via MLB's Gameday Service where we can also find links to the radio-call of the game provided by announcers of either team we choose.

And the adventure continues.

I live on a lump of rock.

it is hurtling through the universe.

I make things.

And if i have regrets,

they are only the things

I DIDN’T do.

Her?

I don’t regret her.

She opened my heart

and mind.

And I’ll always miss her.

Always.

Dick Taat Trøm en Zijn Territorium

Een Kort Bondig Dicktaatje voor het Slapen Gaan

Nu de zon begint in te zakken komt Dick Trøm eindelijk in beweging. De hele lange lome middag had hij liggen liggen in de zon en allemaal dingen gedacht over het door hem beheersde gebied. 24 tuinen, een paar wegen, en een klein aantal gemeenschappelijke plantsoenen. Het zijn niet eens gemeenschappelijke plantsoenen! Ze kwamen op die vaste (park eer) plek dankzij een hele grote dappere groen leider op beperkt niveau, precies zoals het hoort.

Dick Taat had zijn buikje tonnetje rond gegeten maar ging ondanks dat vrij en blij op jacht naar illegalen, de muizen, vogels, die verhipte, vreselijke wilde natuur en zijn vele akelige gedrochten. Gelukkig voor de mensheid en andere katten is Dick elke nacht en vroege ochtend bezig om al het ongedierte te onderdrukken. Ergens bij een gemeenschappelijke door de grote leider met al zijn beperkingen aangelegde waterpartij had je van die wilde eenden en die dachten dat ze zomaar op Trøms terrein aan gezinsuitbreiding konden doen, mooi niet. Dicktaatje ging iedere dag kijken naar dat broeinest, bij de poel des verderfs, kikkers, insecten, smadelijke wezens, een bedreiging voor het heerlijk leven zoals beoogd, dan overdag doezelend in de schaduw van een eenzame boom, maar wel met al zijn slap hangende blaadjes, zijn ritselende assistenten, die daar staat alleen voor dit doel, schaduw bezorgen aan Dick, de werkboom en zijn blaadjes samen sudderend in de verschroeiende zon voor de hoofdpersoon van dit late avond Dick Taat. Dick alleen echt bezig in het donker en de schemer dus actief met andere heersers liggen miauwen en ravotten over wie baas is en wie van hen er node een beurt moet krijgen voor een poging tot maken van nestjes vol schattige kittens.

Het was zeker niet de bedoeling om elke nacht op zoek te moeten gaan naar naarlingen, waken, omlopen, neen, zeer vredig, nou, bevredigend, met alleen de kattenbak, voederbak en waterbak, daarin elke dag schoon, helder, fris water. Het ware Dick Taat paradijs voor het duidelijk werd dat er in dit mogelijke paradijs allerhande lelijks leeft, niet aaibaar, vlug, dartel, klein, met veren of saaie grijze huid.. en sneller wippend dan hun schaduw!

Dicktaatje liep binnen de rekbare terrein grenzen van plek naar plek en sommeerde iedereen die daar volgens hem niet thuis hoorde te vertrekken of anders, en dan ging hij een muis een uurtje martelen, zo, in het openbaar, voor de oogjes van alle andere muizen, een voorbeeld tonen. Dat was puur genot, zo zien lijden, ze waren het opeten niet eens waard. Niet zolang er zoveel geweldig blik en plastic maaltijden elke dag door zijn eigen slaven, de Hedens, aan zijn snoezige, hongerige snuitje worden geserveerd.

Zijn nobele werk werd enorm gewaardeerd, alle mensen houden van Dick Trøm dat zie je zo, en ze vrezen, ook dat is goed. Daarmee blijft iedereen op zijn vaste plek, behalve die krengen die respectloos omgaan met de toch duidelijke grenzen van hem en zijn medeheersers zoals De Gelaarsde, Adœlf de Kåt, Onstijgetje (de massa) elk hun gebied met tand en klauw verdedigen, voor melk, visbrokken, in bloed gemarineerd, en katgebonden kattenbak! Miauw!

En dan na een nacht vol wederwaardigheden en katten kwaad komt Dick Trøm terug in de eigen tuin, als ook wel een beetje die van de familie Heden, zijn mens slaven die hem, trots als ze op hem en zijn werk zijn, voeden en verschonen, het minieme smerige stukje van zijn wereld met grootse liefde. Zo, zo, en klaar is Dick, iedereen zat ook deze nacht veilig onder de beste klauwtjes, mooi. Het werk gedaan. Nou, welterusten allemaal, ik ga snoezelen, en jullie moeten aan de arbeid in een op en top beveiligd land. Tot ontsnoezelen, voor meer controle, gepast geweld, porties onderdrukking en duidelijk aanwezig beheer, ondertussen werk tuchtig en strak, ga aan de slag ploeter in geregelde vrede, Daaaaag.

Esta mañana mi hermana mandó un vídeo de Cereci J. Está de rodillas en el asiento del conductor del coche de sus padres. Suena una canción en la radio.

Esta. Concretamente:

https://youtu.be/WQ4WmzfKcFc?si=1KobIQxpPGKisDu9

Cereci J no tiene ni dos años. Los cumplirá en octubre. Se pasa todo el vídeo bailando. Cuando entran las cuerdas cambia totalmente la forma de bailar. Mueve las manos distinto. Entendiendo lo que pasa musicalmente. Intenta subir el volumen. Su cuerpo se alegra. Muchísimo.

La canción es de 1970, es alguien recordando la vida que ha compartido con su pareja. Hay fragmentos de infancia y verano. Mi sobri no entiende la letra pero desde tan chiqui entiende la canción. Su cuerpo entiende la parte que ha experimentado en estos meses escasos en el mundo. Su cuerpo reacciona a las emociones que la música quería transmitr. Es fascinante verlo.

Me ha emocionado mucho el vídeo. Me hubiera gustado estar allí. VIvirlo a su lado.

El cuerpo siempre sabe, repito cansinamente cada vez que un señor me intenta explicar que para que una música te llegue tienes que escucharla de un modo reverencial, performativo, teatral. Falso. Esforzado. Me pone frenética ese discurso de la mediocridad del canon imitánodse a sí mismo. La pre-IA de intelectualizar algo que es cultura precisamente porque nos atraviesa el cuerpo. La piel es cuerpo, el cerero es cuerpo, lo que vibra en tu oído es cuerpo, lo que se trenza con tu columna vertebral y te estremece es cuerpo. Pasa con un años y con mil. Si te dejas.

Quiero creer que esta personita seguirá conservando ese don, no lo perderá enterrado en memeces de músicos aburridos y prescriptores en nómina. Seguirá siendo capaz de dejarse sentir. Siempre. Quiero creer eso como quiero creer que seguirá disfrutando de los libros cuando sepa leer palabras. Por el mismo motivo. Porque leer por puro disfrute a mi me ha hecho más feliz y también más lista sin pretenderlo.

Porque escuchar la música conectada con tu cuerpo en vez de disociada de él tiene sus desventajas cuando pierdes de golpe una canción que fue tu vida o vas a ver a Rosalía al Movistar Arena y te defrauda porque no está ocurriendo nada.

Pero tiene muchísimas más ventajas. Te permite escuchar Luna de Cabo con 16 años y que todo se te revolucione sin entender muy bien por qué. Tener 46 y que te vuelva a poner del revés como si fuese la primera vez, de una forma completamente distinta porque eres la misma pero tienes un cuerpo que ya no es el mismo, que ganó, perdió, aprendió y no aprendió, vivió cosas. Y porque al otro lado la persona que interpreta tampoco es la misma. También tuvo una vida y dejó que empapase su música hasta las últimas consecuencias.

Todo esto solo es posible cuando a los dos lados de la magia artística hay gente entendiendo de una forma u otra que la música es cuerpo y solo se entiende de verdad, solo se disfruta de verdad, desde ese abandono que algunos olvidan cuando crecen. Que mi sobri tiene totalmente a flor de piel.

Puede que dentro de unos años no le guste nada La canzone del sole. Es altamente probable, incluso. No lo sabemos. Pero yo recuerdo perfectamente ser muy pequeña y sentir algo que no podía explicar cuando sonaba Mediterráneo de Serrat. Ahora tampoco sé explicarlo muy bien pero esa canción sigue hablando de mi.

Puede que dentro de unos años a mi sobri no le guste nada esta canción. No lo sé. De lo que estoy absolutamente segura es que, si la vida me lo permite, algún día le contaré que me emocionó un video que grabó su madre, que intentaré conservar, que me recordó que el arte es arte precisamente porque nos hace cosas en el cuerpo. Cosas que no somos capaces de fingir ni siquiera en este mundo donde todo es pose, teatrillo y discursos que no se cree ni quien los pronuncia.

Ver a mi sobri bailando a Lucio Battisti me ha dado esperanza. Todavía más fuerza para seguir oponiéndome a todos esos idiotas que intentan hacernos creer que el traje nuevo del emperador desnudo es una obra de arte y que por eso cuando suena esa música excelsa los cuerpos se marchitan, se paralizan, se bloquean, se vuelven grises y opacos. Se parecen como un huevo a una castaña a mi sobri bailando a Battisti de rodillas en un coche, emocionándose con una sección de cuerda. A mi ayer en un tren atardeciendo cuando sonó Asilo.

Quiero eso siempre. Solo eso. Esa capacidad infantil que no es infantil y es humana sin bobadas, de dejar que el arte te atraviese. Por puro disfrute y también un poco por política. Por no dejar, tampoco en esto, que ganen los malos. Los que creen que la felicidad es aburrida, el disfrute vulgar, lo popular cutre y que las uvas están verdes y por eso el zorro no se las come.

Gracias J. Tú no lo sabes, pero hoy me has hecho llorar bonito y has convertido una canción de Battisti que me daba más o menos igual en una de las canciones de mi vida. Todavía no lo sabes. Espero poder contártelo en unos años. Aunque me llames loca.

Tags: #random #música

They said remember it and don't let it happen again

But it will happen again in a remote place in a remote time

As the words have their edges and ideas have their scope while papers are crushed in the fire of oppression

Lydia's Weekly Lifestyle blog is for today's African girl, so no subject is taboo. My purpose is to share things that may interest today's African girl.

This week's contributors: Lydia, Pépé Pépinière, Titi. This week's subjects: Rainy days don't mean Fashion break, Malaria drug for babies approved, Funerals, Phoenix Restaurant Mövenpick, and +233 Jazz club and grill Bar

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Rainy days don't mean Fashion break. The secret? Dress smart without sacrificing style. And let's talk colours. Rainy days don't have to mean dull outfits. Rich emerald greens, burgundy, mustard yellow, navy blue, and classic beige bring warmth and elegance to even the gloomiest morning commute. Don't underestimate the power of layers. A lightweight blazer or water-resistant jacket can instantly elevate your outfit while protecting you from surprise showers. Choose neutral colours so they'll pair effortlessly with your wardrobe. Accessories deserve a rainy-season upgrade too. A sturdy umbrella is no longer just an emergency item—it's part of the outfit. A structured tote or waterproof handbag will keep your laptop, documents, and makeup safe when the heavens decide to test your patience. Most importantly, remember that confidence is always in season. The Accra rain may soak the streets, delay your commute, and challenge your hairstyle, but it should never wash away your style. Malaria drug for babies approved. The WHO (World Health Organization) says infants with malaria had until now been treated with formulations designed for older children “which increases the risk of dosing errors, side effects and toxicity”. The new product, Coartem Baby, now available in Ghana, means newborns can be safely treated rather than using medication for older children. It comes as sweet cherry-flavoured tablets that can be dissolved into liquids, including breast milk. Coartem Baby contains two antimalarial drugs, artemether and lumefantrine, and was developed by the multinational pharmaceutical company Novartis and the Medicines for Malaria Venture (MMV). The development follows increasing research, challenging the historical misconception that young babies cannot be infected with malaria because they retain immunity passed on by their mothers during pregnancy and breastfeeding.
Novartis said it would make the treatment available “on a largely not-for-profit basis in malaria-endemic regions”. (The Gates Foundation, at one time falsely accused of creating Covid is among the donors to the Medicines for Malaria Venture). But, mothers, still be careful. Artemether and Lumefantrine only treat uncomplicated malaria infections due to Plasmodium falciparum (P. falciparum). Whilst we see more and more different malaria strains like Plasmodium malariae, Plasmodium ovale curtisi and P. ovale wallikeri. These do not occur too often, but still 8-10 % of the malaria cases are from these rare ones. And it is not too sure if Artemether and Lumefantrine can treat these. Thus: Make sure baby does not get bitten, keep your house free from mosquitoes, drain standing stagnant water, use mosquito nets. According to the most recent WHO data, there were 282 million malaria cases and 610,000 deaths in 2024 – roughly 9 million more cases than the previous year – almost all of them in Africa. Children under 5 years old accounted for about three in four malaria deaths in the region. Some 30 million babies are born in areas of malaria risk in Africa every year, with West Africa reporting infections ranging up to 18% in infants younger than 6 months old. For those who are good in math: That’s about 450,000 dead babies in West Africa. Ghana is part of that. And yours?

Funerals. We seem to like them, as long as it is not one of our close relatives. Time to socialize, dress up, eat, drink, dance. But if it is a (very) close relative like father, mother you end up with a stiff bill, 30,000 GHC in Accra is cheap. So if it is you and your 2 siblings please pick up 10,000 each. Some of that will come back as donations, but most don’t donate much. Tradition? Is it tradition that every visitor gets fed and walks off with a gift bag, a printed towel, chips and drinks? Is it tradition that we keep the person in the fridge for several months whilst we fight it out and wait for relatives from all over the world to arrive? I think tradition is that the village attends and that a few representatives from nearby settlements come and are welcomed, and that the person is buried in about a week. With some simple cement work on top. But indeed, funerals contribute to the economy, yearly about 15 billion GHC are spend, 1.25 billion dollars. Mourn the dead and show respect.

Phoenix Restaurant Mövenpick (former Ambasador Hotel). Independence Avenue, Ridge, PMB CT 343, Accra. The Ambassador Hotel was a gift from the British Government to Ghana at the time of independence. It became the social hub but eventually fell into desrepair. It was rehabilitated in 2011 and renamed as Mövenpick Ambassador Hotel. The lobby is impressive with lots of traditional and contemporary Ghanaian paintings, statues and tissues. Personally I do not like to eat in hotels, I cannot remember ever having eaten something in a hotel worth remembering, apart maybe from the Lancaster (former Golden Tulip) Sunday afternoon buffet, with a very wide choice of Ghanaian dishes. But the one who invited me was staying at the Mövenpick hotel and insisted we take it easy and dine there. We looked at the buffet which was nothing exciting so we went to à la carte. I had a Tian of prawns which was 2 big prawns (about 2 inches) grilled and dry and tough on a bed of avocado, peas and mayonnaise and laying on a mattress of dry and chewy small pieces of kelewele at 300 GHC. There was some lettuces as well which had no dressing. My host ordered the baked sea bass fillets which were small, oily, not very fresh and had no crispy baking, maybe it is not the season for sea bass, with mainly garden eggs, a tomato based sauce and 2 slices of fried potato. At 370 GHC. Baked sea bass Bread buns and butter came with all this, elsewhere often one has a choice of buns, white, brown, other types, but here it was only white. The butter did not have a butter taste. We both agreed that this was a waste of money and time and ate only part of the food. There was live classic Ghanaian highlife music but with a terrible sound system. The air conditioner worked very well, we both got cold and were happy when we got out of the restaurant. They have a wall with 120 bottles of wine, with light behind it, nice decoration, and indeed the bottles are lying down so the cork stays wet. Smirnoff red goes for 90 GHC a shot, fresh pineapple juice for 60 GHC, add ginger to make it 80, and Stella beer draft big at 105 GHC. Luckily I was not the one paying for all this.

+233 Jazz club and grill Bar. (Dr. Isert Street, North Ridge, opposite GBC, Accra). I took my guest there this Saturday night, the patch bay band was playing at an entrance fee of 100 GHC. My guest was happy, a swinging evening instead of a dull hotel room. Alas, Football. England versus Norway. Whilst we had phoned +233 and asked for their program. I’ll be glad when things get back to normal, meaning life without football.

# Lydia...

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My designer said he’s almost done with two cover variations for me. I can’t wait to see them. So through the weekend and next week I’ll focus on getting the paperback done. If I don’t post anything for next Tuesday and Thursday this is the reason. If things go well you’ll see the paperback out by the end of this month.

I love it.

#writing #bookcover #paperback #publishing #selfpublishing

The latest anti-feature from Automattic—now infecting Gravatar. Photo by: Unattributed, Copyright Unattributed. Licensed under Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 4.0.

Happily Imperfect posted Bye bye Gravatar a short while ago, and I have to say, I've had a similar thought about deleting my account on there as well. My feelings towards WordPress and Automattic started changing some time ago, back when they introduced the Gutenberg editor. Ever since this “improvement” it's been a downhill slide for WordPress to the point where it's become an unusable mess in my opinion.

I know a lot of people also think that Matt Mullenweg's recent statements about WordPress, open source, and other companies have been problematic. I reserve my opinions on those areas. Instead, I am judging the quality of the software and the services that are being produced.

But there is an irony when it comes to Gravatar: even though it serves little purpose in and of itself, it does do one thing: it serves your avatar. I can't say how many times in the past I've logged into some new site / application only to have my avatar automatically populate itself. For a while it was jarring because I hadn't updated Gravatar for years. But at least it was filling in something rather than nothing. And, I felt that something filled a purpose: a consistency of identity across the web.

But, now I wonder about that. I cannot recall the last time my avatar was automatically filled in. The only notable case recently was that my avatar updated automatically on GitHub when I changed it on Gravatar. And, honestly my feelings towards GitHub and Microslop are in the shitter as well. So, there's that.

And now, I have an absolute reason to nuke this f***ing account all to hell. I do NOT EVER consent to ANYTHING being done in regard to AI in my name. There was never any notification sent about this change to Gravatar. Hell, I haven't received any notice of any changes being made to Gravatar in the last 5–10 years. It was a similar change that pushed me over the edge with WordPress, and I feel the same way about it with Gravatar.

I know, they haven't actually sent anything directly to any chatbots on my behalf. But the fact that they saw fit to add this ANTI-feature without announcing it speaks more about where Automattic is in the process of enshittifying their products than anything else. Nope—it's goodbye to any and everything Automattic, including Gravatar.

With newer sites like Bio Link and FediProfile I don't see the usefulness of Gravatar. If anything, I think it now has ANTI-features.

And now Gravatar is gone, kaput, deleted. Goodbye and good riddance.

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Categories: #Rant Tags: #response, #automattic, #ai, #antiai, #nukeittohell License: Copyright Unattributed. Licensed under Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 4.0.

Would it really be a waste of time to write falsehoods on a notepad? Seeing caviar on a grocery list surrounded by milk and bread is funny to me. Getting a calendar reminder about attending a gala in the evening is so absurdly disorganised that it cannot be genuine.

The idea sparks joy, but the psychology feels a bit strange. This feeling reminds me of Margaret Atwood’s The Blind Assassin quote

She imagines him imagining her. This is her salvation.

By writing my thoughts and spitting them into the void, I imagine a reader imagining me trying to be funny. By writing lies into reminders and schedules, I perform for an imaginary second person. Would it matter if I lied to the imaginary?

It’s not like I don’t know that caviar is not on the grocery list. I am also too type A to forget that I have an obligation to attend a dress up event, so the lies on my lists are for whoever is peaking into my imagined life. Perhaps this is how people of ye olden days lived such glamorous lives, they just lied in their diaries.

On that note, I plan to get messy in acrylic paints this weekend – it’s wintry and dreary outside but I want to look at some colourful florals.

I also want to accomplish the perfect day on Sunday: 1. Get dressed in a cute outfit 2. Go to the market 3. Return home and change into a 2nd cute outfit 4. Get an ice cream cone with a good book in tow

Maybe I need to line up my lies first.

From a village bypass to a €900 million energy bill, the pattern is the same: commitments made first, questions asked later. Ireland has lived through this logic before.

Not far from my home in north county Dublin is a road. It began life as an arterial road, purpose‑built to carry considerable commuter traffic in and out of Dublin, with increased safety.

But built as a bypass around a small village, it facilitated new homes, new shops, new schools on both sides of the road; the inevitable (or is it?) ribbon development. So now we have school students, mums with pushchairs, people out walking dogs, joggers, and village cyclists using and crossing the road daily. That’s a dangerous mix of village life and commuter traffic. I’m not pointing the finger here, but a little planning would have avoided this disturbing combination.

I’m simply saying sequencing is substance. The development that has unfolded in that area over the last decade needed a little more forethought, a little more analysis in context. Yes, we want the homes, the shops, the schools and the like. But we want them assembled into new communities, safely.

When the order of decisions is not thought through, outcomes drift. And the same pattern is visible far beyond local roads. The Strategic Emergency Reserve Bill is simply the latest example. The State is advancing a €900 million infrastructure commitment before the cost analysis, the alternatives assessment, the emissions modelling, the operating rules, or the governance framework have been published. Let’s cut through the fog and the rhetoric and look at what is actually being said: “Let’s spend €900 million and see what happens — the Minister can field the problems.”

Let’s not mince words. This is the worst kind of government. And the Irish people deserve better. This is not about political stance or political preference or one party being superior to another. It’s about the basic skill set required to govern: understand the problem, consult those affected, evaluate the options, then act. The Strategic Emergency Reserve Bill reverses that order. And with no expressed justification or legitimacy for the order of decisions, the State has weakened its own case before it has even made it.

Across the NGO sector, the expressed concerns are consistent. Planning law has been set aside. Environmental safeguards have been narrowed. Judicial review has been restricted. Costs remain unclear. And the long‑term system effects have not been assessed. Ireland has lived through this kind of decision‑making before. The government is repeating the mistakes of the 19th‑century British, who panicked into building unnecessary barracks across Ireland. And it is a strange place for an independent State to find itself, after all we’ve come through.

Sequencing is not a procedural detail. It is the substance of good governance. When analysis follows commitment, it becomes justification rather than guidance. When exceptional powers are used without exceptional explanation, scrutiny thins. And when infrastructure is approved before its operating rules exist, the system begins to shape itself around the gap.

Ireland’s energy system is entering a decade of structural change. Decisions made quickly will be lived with slowly. The question is not speed. It is sequence.

Sequencing is substance.

The full LNG analysis can be found here: https://go.marshall.ie/LNG-bill-analysis

Fremdheit – 9. Juli

Heute begleitet mich fast den ganzen Tag ein Gefühl von Fremdheit, Unverständlichkeit und Sinnlosigkeit. Man sagt, dass eine solche Krise nach einer gewissen Zeit in einer neuen Umgebung ganz normal ist. Bei mir scheint sie am 25. Tag meines Praktikums mit voller Kraft angekommen zu sein.

Krisen können natürlich sehr unterschiedlich aussehen. Aber das, was ich gerade erlebe, kann man wahrscheinlich tatsächlich als eine Art Adaptionskrise bezeichnen. Heute spüre ich eine starke Stagnation und Frustration. Meine Deutschkenntnisse erscheinen mir immer unzureichender, und in letzter Zeit bin ich immer häufiger in Situationen geraten, die mir meine eigenen Grenzen sehr deutlich zeigen. Vielleicht muss ich diese Krise einfach durchleben, und danach geht es mit den Fortschritten wieder leichter weiter. Vielleicht habe ich aber auch einfach den höchsten Punkt erreicht, den ich mit dieser Sprache erreichen kann, und kann nicht mehr viel daran ändern. So viele “vielleicht”...

Gestern habe ich einen Facebook-Beitrag gelesen, in dem eine Frau von einer Wanderung durch die Wüste erzählte. Sie musste mit ihrem Partner mehr als 40 Kilometer in wahnsinniger Hitze zu Fuß zurücklegen. Ohne Schatten, ohne Wasser, ohne Pflaster für ihre Wunden. Sie beschrieb ihre Erschöpfung so genau, dass mir plötzlich auffiel, wie sehr mich ihre Erfahrung an mein eigenes inneres Erleben hier erinnert. Ich kann natürlich anerkennen, dass diese Gefühle möglicherweise auch mit meinem hormonellen Zustand zusammenhängen. Aber heute fühle ich mich trotzdem so, als könnte ich langsam aufgeben und zugeben, dass meine Beziehung zur deutschen Sprache einfach nicht funktioniert hat.

Ich wiederhole mir selbst, dass es eigentlich gar kein großes Problem ist. Ich habe schließlich nichts verloren. Es ist nicht so, dass ich diese Sprache unbedingt lernen muss, weil ich sonst für immer arbeitslos werde. Oder obdachlos. Oder sonst irgendwie -los... was auch immer. Aber heute hilft mir dieser Gedanke nicht. Mir half früher auch die Wahrnehmung, dass es eigentlich einfach eine Reise ist, von der man mit unglaublich vielen Erfahrungen zurückkehren kann. Man kann aber auch einfach Zeit irgendwo verbringen, ohne dabei wesentliche Fortschritte zu machen. Auch das ist ein Ergebnis. Aber nicht heute ... Trotzdem bringt mir diese Krise heute eine solche Müdigkeit, dass ich mir kaum vorstellen kann, überhaupt noch irgendetwas auf Deutsch zu sagen. Das ganze Studienjahr über habe ich versucht, der deutschen Sprache wenigstens ein bisschen weniger Schaden zuzufügen. Doch irgendwie geht alles immer weiter, wie in einem endlosen Traum, der einen nicht erholt, sondern nur noch müder macht.

Heute war außerdem ein Tag voller neuer Eindrücke. Ich hatte beschlossen, allein zum ABSV und anschließend zum Yogaunterricht zu fahren. Einerseits wollte ich Mindaugas nicht den ganzen Tag unterwegs halten, denn ich hatte erst die Arbeit, dann Yoga und am Abend noch einen Theaterbesuch. Andererseits musste ich mich auch mehr daran gewöhnen, die Wegbeschreibungen dieses Systems selbstständig zu testen.

Allerdings war heute auch einer dieser Tage, an denen einfach alles schiefzulaufen scheint. Angefangen bei meiner Kleidung – ich dachte, es würde sehr heiß werden, und hatte mich deshalb viel zu dünn angezogen – bis hin zu den einfachsten Dingen, wie den richtigen Link auf einer Website zu finden. Heute fällt mir sogar das Schreiben schwer. Das Lesen fällt mir schwer. Manchmal verstehe ich Dinge erst mit Verzögerung. Und ich fühle mich, als würde ich mich selbst von außen beobachten. Als wäre mein eigenes Ich in zwei Teile zerbrochen und einer davon würde nun aus der Distanz diese verzweifelten Versuche des anderen betrachten.

Meine Kollegin hatte mir sehr freundlich angeboten, nicht nur gemeinsam bis zum S-Bahnhof zu fahren, sondern auch noch zusammen umzusteigen und ein Stück des Weges gemeinsam zurückzulegen. An einem solchen schwierigen Tag war das besonders schön. Ich hatte die Wegbeschreibung vorher in Braille vorbereitet, damit ich mich unterwegs ausschließlich auf den Weg konzentrieren konnte und nicht ständig mit dem Handy hantieren musste. Das war eine sehr gute Idee. Meine Braille-Notizen hatte ich auf kleineren Blättern, sodass ich sie bequem mit einer Hand lesen konnte. Den Weg filmte ich mit der in meine Brille integrierten Kamera. Wenigstens musste ich also keine zusätzliche Kamera in der Hand halten – technisch gesehen schon mal ein Gewinn.

Die Suche nach dem richtigen Weg brachte allerdings wieder einige merkwürdige Unklarheiten mit sich. Zunächst konnte ich das Leitsystem in Grunewald, von wo aus ich zum ABSV und zu meinem Yogaunterricht gelangen sollte, nur schwer ertasten. Meine Kollegin Constanze zeigte mir die Leitlinien, aber ich konnte sie mit meinem Stock nicht besonders deutlich wahrnehmen. Also orientierte ich mich einfach an der Bahnsteigkante, weil ich wusste, dass die Leitlinie ungefähr 70 Zentimeter davon entfernt verläuft. Schließlich fand ich das entsprechende Aufmerksamkeitsfeld. Aber gerade als ich langsamer werden und die verschiedenen Felder genauer untersuchen wollte, kam eine Dame, die mich unbedingt begleiten wollte.

Ich erklärte ihr mehrmals, dass ich gerade lerne und ein System testen muss. Aber sie wollte mich trotzdem unbedingt irgendwohin begleiten und mir noch irgendein anderes System zeigen. Also ließ ich sie schließlich mit Constanze darüber diskutieren und suchte selbst weiter nach dem Ende des Bahnsteigs. Danach kehrte ich zum zweiten Aufmerksamkeitsfeld zurück.

Der Anfang war tatsächlich motivierend. Ich konnte den Treppenabgang finden, und auch der Verbindungsgang mit den Blumen am Ende war sehr eindeutig und leicht zu erkennen. Der Abschnitt zwischen dem Bahnhof und dem Zebrastreifen über die Straße war schon weniger klar, weil ich diese „wenigen Schritte weiter“ und die exakten Richtungswechsel noch nicht richtig im Gefühl habe. Zum Beispiel verpasste ich irgendwie den Briefkasten und stellte mir deshalb vor, dass die Bushaltestelle noch etwas weiter entfernt sein müsste. Trotzdem konnte ich der Beschreibung folgen, und am Ende funktionierte alles.

Der Eingang zum Gelände ist zusätzlich durch ein akustisches Signal gekennzeichnet, und genau dieses Signal wurde schließlich zu meinem wichtigsten Orientierungspunkt. In der Beschreibung stand zwar außerdem, dass es sich um die fünfte Einfahrt handeln sollte. Bis zur fünften Einfahrt hatte ich allerdings definitiv nicht gezählt – nach meiner Rechnung war es höchstens die zweite. Aber ich hörte das Signal und bog nach links ab. Da dachte ich wieder, dass es für mich wahrscheinlich am wichtigsten ist, aus jeder Wegbeschreibung bestimmte Orientierungspunkte herauszufiltern, die für mich persönlich entscheidend sind.

Die Jogalehrerin hat mich schon im Hof begegnet und die Umgebung gezeigt, und dieser Teil war auch ganz erfolgreich. Aber dann fang die Jogaklasse, wo wurde dieses Gefühl der Fremdheit wieder deutlicher. Zum ersten Mal war ich in einer Gruppe, deren Mitglieder sich bereits gut kannten, und plötzlich fühlte ich mich unglaublich fremd und distanziert.

Dieses Gefühl hatte überhaupt nichts mit dem Verhalten der anderen zu tun. Ganz im Gegenteil: Alle waren sehr freundlich zu mir, und die Lehrerin erklärte alles klar und verständlich. Trotzdem spürte ich eine starke Einsamkeit. Ich dachte darüber nach, dass ich mich in internationalen Situationen bisher meistens in Gruppen befunden hatte, in denen irgendwie alle gemeinsam von vorne angefangen hatten. Dieses Mal erlebte ich die Situation anders. Bei der Arbeit war ich schließlich ebenfalls in ein Team gekommen, dessen Mitglieder bereits miteinander verbunden waren, und trotzdem hatte ich mich dort nie so fremd gefühlt. Vielleicht hängt es von der Situation ab. Oder von der eigenen Stimmung. Oder doch von der Sprachbarriere.

Ich musste mich jedenfalls extrem konzentrieren, um wirklich alles zu verstehen: jede Bewegung, jede Anweisung, was ich beugen oder strecken sollte, und jeden einzelnen Körperteil – Fersen, Knie, Gelenke und all die anderen Kleinigkeiten. Das war unglaublich intensiv, aber gleichzeitig auch nützlich und interessant. Und direkt nach dem Yogaunterricht ging es für mich weiter ins Theater.

Zunächst hatte ich gedacht, dass wir eine Probe besuchen würden. Zumindest war es uns als Probe angekündigt worden. Tatsächlich war es aber schon eine richtige Aufführung mit Publikum und mit Tischen voller Gäste. Die eigentliche Veranstaltung findet erst am 12. August statt. Ich war ganz einfach gekleidet, während die Umgebung mit den gedeckten Tischen und schönen Tischdecken irgendwie festlich und offiziell wirkte. Wir saßen gemeinsam mit Imke, einigen anderen Frauen und unserer Audiodeskriptionsautorin Ania an einem Tisch. Die Atmosphäre war eben wie im Theater: etwas lauter, viele Gespräche gleichzeitig, und ich konnte kaum verstehen, worüber die anderen miteinander sprachen. Dadurch verstärkte sich mein Gefühl der Fremdheit noch einmal.

Das Stück selbst hat mir insgesamt ziemlich gut gefallen. Es war „Cabaret“, also das amerikanische Musical in deutscher Übersetzung und für ein deutsches Publikum adaptiert. Die Geschichte spielt im Berlin kurz vor der NS-Zeit und erzählt vom damaligen Bohèmeleben sowie von zwei Liebesgeschichten.

Dabei fand ich auch einige Parallelen zu heutigen Fragen. Müssen wir wirklich aktiv gegen russische Propaganda vorgehen? Wohin kann es führen, wenn wir bestimmte Entwicklungen und Probleme einfach ignorieren?

Ich kannte die Geschichte vorher nicht, deshalb war sie für mich auch aus künstlerischer Sicht sehr interessant und wichtig. Den zweiten Teil fand ich allerdings etwas zu langgezogen und die Handlung entwickelte sich für meinen Geschmack stellenweise zu langsam. Die gesamte Aufführung dauerte ziemlich lange. Gleichzeitig spürte ich eine gewisse Vorsicht im Umgang mit nationalsozialistischen Symbolen. Ich hörte auch, dass einige Menschen im Saal auf bestimmte Szenen besonders sensibel reagierten, und dachte darüber nach, wie stark diese Geschichte die deutsche Gesellschaft bis heute prägt.

Ich bewundere die deutsche Gesellschaft für ihre Bemühungen, sich mit dem historischen Unrecht auseinanderzusetzen und Verantwortung dafür zu übernehmen. Für mich ist das ein starkes Beispiel dafür, wie eine Gesellschaft ihre eigene Geschichte kritisch betrachten und daraus Konsequenzen ziehen kann. Unwillkürlich verglich ich diese Haltung wieder mit Russland: mit einem Staat, der seine eigene Geschichte immer wieder verklärt, so vieles zerstört und gleichzeitig kaum Verantwortung für das Wohlergehen der eigenen Gesellschaft übernimmt.

Nach dem Stück mussten wir noch lange warten, um zu bezahlen. Dann brauchte ich ziemlich lange, um den Ausgang zu finden, anschließend noch Mindaugas und den Parkplatz – und all das fühlte sich zusammen mit meinen sprachlichen Schwierigkeiten irgendwann genauso an wie dieser endlose Weg durch die Wüste. Zu Hause wollte ich nur noch weinen. Ich wusste nicht mehr, wie ich weiterlernen sollte, worauf ich mich konzentrieren sollte und ob ich mir selbst überhaupt noch vertrauen konnte.

Also warte ich jetzt einfach auf neue Tage. Aber das Schreiben hilft. Ich fühle mich ein wenig leichter, wenn ich all diese Emotionen aufschreibe.

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Introduction

A few years back I became interested in the idea of getting a smartwatch. However, what I found when I started doing research into them was nothing short of horrifying. Take the journey with me as I talk about why I thought a smartwatch would be a good fit in my life, to the realization that there was no chance I would ever buy one of them.

The level of enshittification that exists in this market segment is stunning. It is so rampant that in the end I went a different, and surprising (especially to me) direction, which has a few of its own twists.

I will say this: my research into smartwatches and the accompanying applications proved to me that old-fashioned wristwatches are still a great piece of technology today.

The Search for a Smartwatch

It generally starts with something simple. That something simple in this case: my old cellphone had a step counter. When I replaced the phone, I no longer had a step counter. I hear you asking: “But couldn't a simple app accomplish that?” And yes, indeed, it could, but… There's always a “but” isn't there?

My lifestyle has changed over the past decade. I'm no longer in the rat race, I'm no longer required to have a cellphone on me at all times. It's been quite liberating. There are times when I'll set my phone down for hours while I'm off doing chores around the house or outside without giving it a second thought.

That's when I started looking at smartwatches for the simple reason: I wanted a watch that could track my health and exercise habits / routines. Something that I wore as opposed to something I had to carry. That seemed reasonable to me, smartwatches have had these features for years.

So, I started looking at the most popular options: the Apple Watch, Samsung Galaxy Watch, and Google Pixel watch, etc. But, as I quickly realized, there were problems with these choices.

The Problems Begin

It's been a long-standing issue in the Internet age that corporate entities have decided they are entitled to as much personal information about us as they can gather. It's something I, and others, have been vehemently opposed to well over a decade. Information about your health is an extremely touchy subject, at least it should. I have stronger than average feelings about this issue, a story which requires a bit of a detour.

My mother was a registered nurse for around thirty to forty years. She left the profession to raise our family, and during this time she found her way into politics, acting as the office manager for one of our States' Senators. During her time working for the Senator she cultivated connections at both the State and Federal level. Because of those connections, she was approached many times to provide feed back on healthcare related rules / laws and legislation as it was being drafted. She claimed, there were things in some regulations and legislation as a result of her feedback. (I doubt it was that simple, but I don't doubt that she provided valuable feedback.)

So, the combination of my mother being involved with healthcare related rules and legislation, and my longstanding concerns over privacy issues on the internet made for an intense combination. Let's just say the alarm bells went off so much as I did my research, I ran out of bells. Here are just a few issues I found.

Google Health APIs

All smartwatches that gathered health information used (use?) Google's Health API's to communicate between the device and the phone application. In my opinion Google has not shown themselves to be trustworthy since they removed Don't Be Evil from their corporate Code of Conduct and dropped it as their motto.

I don't feel secure knowing that a company known for scraping as much information as they can about users from their online activities as possible has access to any health related information of mine.

App Terms

Looking into the apps required by these devices, they often state they will share your information with third parties in order to “offer” additional services. There was no clarification that you needed to approve said sharing first. There were also unclear terms around other uses of this information. And, the nail in the coffin for me, was the requirement to access many things on my phone I didn't want to grant access to, like the camera. I would have been less alarmed if these things were optional, but they were listed as required instead.

So, yeah, no. I'm not giving any company that much access to my phone to gather unknown amounts of information, that can be shared in ways that I don't have any right of approval over.

Unclear Information Storage and Handling

The third and final nail in the coffin for me was information storage and handling. I was in complete shock to realize that the information handling was hardly documented. Some of the things that I hoped to find:

• Indications that information was encrypted. Most applications indicated it wasn't.
• Statement(s) of where storage of the information was located. I couldn't find any.
• Policies around data retention. There were none.
• Indications that canceled accounts (which, by the way, were required as well) would have all information related to the user removed. Nope. No such statement.

Don't get me wrong, this wasn't consistent across all apps. Some of them did indicate information was encrypted. And others might have partial data retention information, or data removal being available, etc. But none of them hit the marks in terms of me feeling comfortable with their stated policies. If anything, the process of researching these applications just put me more on edge.

The Closest

I will say, through my hazy memory from six years ago, it appeared Apple had the best policies, especially where health related information was concerned.

But, here's the thing, I'm an Android person. And no, I won't buy into Apple's closed ecosystem. And, I had just bought a new phone, so scrapping a new phone to buy an iPhone just was not in the cards.

The Other Things I Didn't Like

Even before I started looking at the applications that were used for health tracking with Smartwatches, I found there were other things I just didn't like. Basically, it comes down to this: too many features, inability to disable the features.

So, remember this started out as I wanted a device that could do some health tracking for me. And, of course, I also wanted the watch to tell the time. But that's it.

What I didn't want was a watch that would send me notifications. I didn't want to use it to control my media, receive messages on it, or make phone calls from it. I didn't want the literal myriad of other features that many of these “watches” provided.

That was when a light bulb went off in my mind. Smartwatches aren't watches, really. They are communication devices. Which is exactly the opposite of what I wanted. I wanted to get away from being tethered to a constant, intrusive communication device. This was my time to get away from the constant drag of being tied to that bloody f***ing cellphone.

That realization hit me while I was doing my research, which reinforced my growing certainty that Smartwatches weren't for me.

What Did I End up With?

Well, funny you should ask… I bought a smart ring instead. And not one of the big brands, like Oura. No, I bought a cheap, Chinese ring. “Why?” I hear you asking. The answer is somewhat surprising.

You might think that a Chinese ring would be worse in terms of data handling. Surprisingly that's not the case. The apps I looked at stated that they didn't gather any information. And, the only account they wanted was optional for “social” and supposed “information” features (which I would never use). They didn't want access to most of my phone (i.e., no camera, or media, etc.). They stated they would only use my information with my approval first. And, even better, they don't use Google's Health API.

Did I believe all of these statements? Absolutely not. However, there was one thing that I did believe: their devices had core functionality that would always work. The intrusive / scraping parts of their program wouldn't interfere with core functionality. I couldn't say that about any smartwatch, and I had an ace up my sleeve: TrackerControl.

TrackerControl allows me to block any endpoint that might be trying to spy on me. With TrackerControl installed I installed the app for the ring I'd bought (the ring hadn't been delivered yet). I verified there were five suspicious looking endpoints that the software was trying to communicate with, so I blocked them. Once the ring arrived, I connected the app to it, and everything started working. I verified again that there were no new endpoints being used now that the ring was active, and that was it.

The ring has worked well for the past year and a half. However, it's being replaced now. Why? Typical issue: battery failure. I don't know if it was programmed to do this, but the battery hasn't been holding as much of a charge over the past month or two. It's gone from 6 to 7 days per charge, down to around 3 days.

This time I'm replacing it with a bracelet. Why? Well, two things. First, it solves (or at least claims to improve on) the battery issue. Supposedly it only needs to be charged once a month. We'll see about that. The bracelet doesn't have a display, so it won't be using its charge for displaying information directly.

Also, it has more sensors, and the app gathers more information. There are a few things that I've wanted to track more closely that this ring doesn't. The bracelet should be able to (at least according to what I've read about it and the app), so it should be an improvement. And, for what it's worth, I'll still be wearing my watch, the bracelet will be on my other wrist.

Finally, I'll be honest, I don't like the physical form-factor of the ring. It's just too thick. It just bothers me. I thought I would get used to it over time. And, I have to some degree, but I still know that it's there all the time, it never goes away for me. So, hopefully a bracelet will just go away.

In Closing

I'm actually somewhat happy that things have turned out as they have. Switching to wearing a smart ring instead of a smartwatch left me space to explore wristwatches. That was the only thing that I was missing when I decided to get smart ring: something that displayed the time.

It may look a bit funny wearing a smart bracelet. But, hopefully not. They are thinner and smaller than most smartwatches since they don't have a display, microphone, etc. Hopefully it will (mostly) just look like a bracelet.

I think it's ironic that in order to get away from being tracked, and to keep my information private and secure I had to go to something that I would have thought would be the least secure option. Instead, with a bit of work, I was able to make it secure. This is something I doubt would ever work with the big smartwatches. There's just too much information and interconnectivity going on to be able to control the device using something like TrackerControl. And, if I was spending several hundred or a thousand dollars on a device, I want it to just work. I'd be even more annoyed if I found that I couldn't make it work the way I wanted.

So, there you have it. Cheap, hackable software / hardware for the win. And, in the process, I got to indulge in the hobby of wristwatches.

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Categories: #Essays Tags: #rant, #enshittification, #communication, #devices, #technology, #privacy License: Copyright Unattributed. Licensed under Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 4.0.what I am going to talk about today.