People notice the outside first. They always have, and they probably always will. Before anyone hears a word you say, before they know your story, before they understand your heart or your intentions, they see the surface. They see the clothes. They see the presentation. They see the things that culture has trained us to judge quickly and file away neatly. In a world that moves at the speed of scrolling, first impressions often become final conclusions, even when they shouldn’t.

And sometimes, what people see doesn’t fit the image they expect faith to wear.

Sometimes it’s a classic band t-shirt. Sometimes it’s heavy metal. Sometimes it’s old-school rock and roll. Sometimes it’s something loud, something worn, something unapologetically human. And for some people, that creates friction. Not because God is offended, but because expectations are.

Somewhere along the way, many people absorbed the idea that faith has a uniform. That holiness looks a certain way. That if someone doesn’t visually match the religious template they’ve been handed, then whatever they say about God must somehow be less credible, less serious, or less sincere. But that idea didn’t come from Scripture. It came from tradition, culture, and human comfort.

God has never been interested in surfaces.

From the very beginning, God has been clear about what He values. Long before modern faith culture existed, long before churches had branding and aesthetics, Scripture made something unmistakably plain: people look at appearances, but God looks at the heart. Not once, not occasionally, but always. That truth hasn’t aged. It hasn’t weakened. It hasn’t been replaced by newer standards. It still stands, cutting straight through every assumption we make about what faith should look like.

Faith is not something you put on in the morning and take off at night. Faith is not a costume. Faith is not an accessory. Faith is not proven by what you wear, how you speak, or how closely you resemble someone else’s idea of “spiritual.” Faith is something internal, something rooted, something alive inside a person that inevitably shapes how they live, how they speak, and how they treat others.

Jesus never demanded aesthetic conformity. He never asked people to clean themselves up before approaching Him. He never withheld truth until someone looked the part. He met fishermen smelling like their work, tax collectors marked by their reputations, women carrying shame, men carrying doubt, and crowds carrying confusion. He did not wait for them to change their appearance. He spoke to their hearts.

That matters more today than many people realize.

We live in a time when people are exhausted by performance. They are tired of curated perfection. They are weary of religious language that sounds impressive but feels empty. They are suspicious of anything that feels staged, rehearsed, or disconnected from real life. Many have walked away from faith not because they rejected God, but because they felt judged, excluded, or unseen by people who claimed to represent Him.

In that environment, authenticity becomes disarming.

When someone who looks ordinary, unpolished, and real speaks about God with humility instead of superiority, with compassion instead of condemnation, something shifts. Walls lower. Defenses soften. The message lands differently because it doesn’t feel like it’s coming from a pedestal. It feels like it’s coming from a person.

And people listen to people before they listen to ideas.

What matters is not what’s printed on fabric. What matters is what’s written on the heart. What matters is what comes out of a person when life presses in, when conversations turn heavy, when someone admits they’re struggling, or when hope feels thin.

Words matter.

Not loud words. Not dramatic words. Honest words. Words spoken with care. Words that carry truth without cruelty. Words that acknowledge pain without minimizing it. Words that point toward God without pretending life is simple or suffering is imaginary.

Jesus did not weaponize truth. He embodied it. He understood that truth delivered without love hardens people instead of healing them. He understood that people do not change because they are shamed into submission, but because they are invited into something better.

That invitation is not conveyed by appearances. It is conveyed by presence.

Presence looks like listening when it would be easier to talk. Presence looks like patience when it would be easier to judge. Presence looks like compassion when it would be easier to distance yourself. Presence looks like staying when others walk away.

That kind of presence cannot be faked. It comes from the heart.

Many people today feel disqualified before they ever begin. They assume God would never want them because they don’t fit the mold, don’t have the background, don’t have the vocabulary, or don’t have the look. They believe faith is reserved for people who have their lives together, their past cleaned up, and their questions resolved.

But Scripture tells a different story.

God has always worked through people who did not look impressive on the surface. Shepherds. Fishermen. Outsiders. The overlooked. The doubters. The broken. Again and again, God bypassed appearances and chose hearts that were willing, honest, and open.

That pattern has never changed.

So when someone encounters a follower of Christ who doesn’t fit their expectations, it can be jarring in the best possible way. It quietly dismantles the lie that faith requires a makeover. It opens the door for someone to consider that maybe God is not as distant, rigid, or exclusive as they were taught to believe.

This is not about rebellion for its own sake. It is not about making a statement with clothing or style. It is about refusing to confuse the message with the wrapping. It is about understanding that God’s power has never depended on presentation.

God moves through obedience, not optics.

The most meaningful moments of ministry rarely happen in controlled environments. They happen in everyday spaces. In conversations that weren’t planned. In moments when someone admits fear, grief, doubt, or exhaustion. In those moments, no one is checking what you’re wearing. They are listening to how you respond.

Do you respond with empathy or dismissal? With humility or certainty? With care or correction?

Those responses reveal the heart.

A person who carries faith authentically does not need to advertise it. It shows up naturally in how they speak, how they listen, and how they treat others. It shows up in restraint. In gentleness. In courage. In integrity. In the quiet refusal to reduce people to labels.

Jesus said that out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks. That means what comes out of us under pressure reveals what is actually inside us. Not what we claim to believe, but what we have allowed to shape us.

That shaping happens slowly. Faith is formed over time, through surrender, reflection, obedience, and grace. It is refined through failure as much as through success. It is deepened in seasons of silence as much as in seasons of clarity.

And when that kind of faith exists inside a person, it doesn’t matter what they wear. It will find its way out.

It will show up in the way they treat people who disagree with them. In the way they respond to criticism. In the way they acknowledge their own imperfections. In the way they speak about God without pretending to fully understand Him.

That kind of faith feels real because it is.

People are not looking for perfect representatives of God. They are looking for honest ones. They are looking for proof that faith can exist in real life, not just in religious spaces. They are looking for permission to explore belief without pretending to be someone they’re not.

When faith is presented as accessible rather than exclusive, something beautiful happens. People begin to consider that God might meet them where they are, not where they think they should be. They begin to imagine that transformation is a journey, not an entrance exam.

That imagination is sacred ground.

God often does His most profound work in unexpected places through unexpected people. He does not need the packaging to be polished. He needs the heart to be surrendered.

This is why appearances will never be the measure of faith. This is why style will never determine sincerity. This is why God continues to bypass human expectations and operate on a deeper level.

Faith does not live on the surface. It lives in the heart, and it reveals itself through words spoken with love and lives lived with integrity.

When faith is reduced to appearances, it becomes fragile. It becomes something that can be put on or taken off, something that depends on approval, something that can be threatened by disagreement. But when faith is rooted in the heart, it becomes resilient. It becomes something that can withstand misunderstanding, criticism, and even rejection. It becomes something that does not need to defend itself because it knows where it comes from.

This distinction matters, because many people walk away from faith not because they stop believing in God, but because they grow tired of pretending. They grow tired of feeling like they must look a certain way, speak a certain way, or suppress parts of who they are in order to belong. They grow weary of the gap between what is said publicly and what is lived privately. They sense the inconsistency, and it erodes trust.

God has never asked people to pretend.

Throughout Scripture, God consistently chooses honesty over polish. He chooses confession over performance. He chooses repentance over reputation. Again and again, He meets people in moments of raw truth rather than moments of curated image. That is where transformation begins—not when someone looks right, but when someone becomes real.

This is why the heart matters so much.

The heart is where motives are formed. The heart is where compassion either grows or withers. The heart is where pride takes root or humility finds space. What lives there eventually finds its way out, not through slogans or symbols, but through behavior, speech, and choices.

Words are one of the clearest indicators of the heart’s condition. Not the words spoken when things are easy, but the words spoken when things are hard. When someone is challenged. When someone is misunderstood. When someone is angry. When someone is afraid. When someone is vulnerable.

In those moments, the heart speaks.

A person shaped by faith does not speak perfectly, but they speak thoughtfully. They do not avoid truth, but they refuse to use it as a weapon. They understand that the goal is not to win arguments, but to love people. They understand that God is not glorified when others are diminished.

Jesus modeled this consistently. He never softened truth, but He always aimed it toward restoration. He confronted hypocrisy without humiliating the humble. He corrected without crushing. He invited people into repentance without stripping them of dignity. His authority did not come from intimidation, but from integrity.

That same posture is needed now.

We live in a culture that rewards outrage and punishes nuance. Everything is loud. Everything is reactive. Everything is reduced to sides. In that environment, faith expressed with patience, restraint, and grace stands out—not because it is flashy, but because it is rare.

And rare things draw attention.

When someone who does not fit the expected image of religiosity speaks with wisdom and compassion, it disrupts assumptions. It challenges stereotypes without confrontation. It creates curiosity instead of resistance. People begin to listen not because they were convinced, but because they felt respected.

Respect opens doors that force never can.

Many of the most meaningful conversations about God begin with trust, not theology. They begin when someone senses that they are safe to ask questions, to admit doubt, to share pain without being judged or corrected prematurely. That safety is created by presence, not presentation.

Presence says, “I’m here.” Presence says, “You matter.” Presence says, “You don’t have to be fixed to be valued.”

God works powerfully through that kind of space.

It is important to understand that this approach is not about watering down faith or avoiding conviction. It is about recognizing the difference between conviction and condemnation. Conviction draws people closer to God. Condemnation pushes them away. Conviction invites transformation. Condemnation demands conformity.

Jesus always chose the former.

A faith rooted in the heart understands that growth takes time. It understands that belief often develops gradually, through conversation, reflection, and experience. It understands that people are rarely changed by a single moment, but often by a series of encounters that slowly reshape how they see God and themselves.

Those encounters often happen through ordinary people living faithfully in ordinary ways.

Not everyone is called to preach publicly. Not everyone is called to teach formally. But everyone is called to love intentionally. Everyone is called to speak truth with humility. Everyone is called to reflect God’s character in the spaces they occupy.

That reflection does not require a uniform.

It requires attentiveness. It requires self-awareness. It requires the courage to live honestly rather than perform religiously.

When faith becomes something you live rather than something you display, it integrates into every part of life. It influences how you work, how you treat strangers, how you respond to conflict, how you admit mistakes, how you extend grace. It becomes visible not through symbols, but through consistency.

Consistency builds credibility.

People may forget what you wore. They may forget the exact words you said. But they will remember how you made them feel. They will remember whether you listened. They will remember whether you showed kindness when it wasn’t required. They will remember whether you treated them as a person rather than a project.

That memory matters.

Many people carry wounds inflicted not by God, but by those who claimed to represent Him. They were judged, dismissed, or misunderstood. They were told they didn’t belong. They were made to feel small. Those experiences linger, often long after belief itself has faded.

When someone encounters a follower of Christ who does not repeat those patterns, it can begin a slow process of healing. Not dramatic. Not immediate. But real. It can soften hardened views and reopen closed doors.

This is sacred work.

It does not require perfection. It requires faithfulness. It requires a willingness to let God work through you as you are, not as you pretend to be. It requires trusting that God’s presence is not threatened by authenticity.

God does not ask you to look the part. He asks you to live the truth.

He asks you to speak with integrity. He asks you to love with sincerity. He asks you to walk humbly.

Everything else is secondary.

When faith is lived this way, it becomes portable. It moves easily through different spaces. It does not depend on environment or approval. It is not confined to religious settings. It travels into everyday life, into conversations that matter, into moments that feel ordinary but are anything but.

This is how faith changes lives—not through spectacle, but through presence.

Not through appearance, but through heart.

Not through what is seen at a glance, but through what is revealed over time.

God does not live on the surface. He never has. He lives in the depths of the human heart, shaping, guiding, and drawing people toward Himself in ways that often defy expectation.

When faith flows from that place, it does not need explanation. It speaks for itself.

And in a world desperately searching for what is real, that kind of faith is more powerful than any image could ever be.

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

Watch Douglas Vandergraph’s inspiring faith-based videos on YouTube

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Student unions are right to criticize the provincial government’s post-secondary review. That criticism is justified, and students should be demanding more from a process that could reshape the entire public education system.

According to The Ubyssey, student leaders across British Columbia were given a six-week consultation window, a single short meeting with the review chair, and little clarity on whether the process will protect core issues like tuition caps or long-term public funding. For something framed as a comprehensive review, that level of engagement feels thin.

The broader context makes the stakes even clearer. International enrolment is being capped, institutional budgets are under strain, and governments have a long history of using “reviews” to quietly normalize unpopular decisions. Students are right to treat this one with skepticism.

While student unions are pushing back on provincial transparency, something far more unsettling is happening inside their own organizations.

At the Kwantlen Student Association, students are being presented with steady reassurances while the internal reality looks increasingly bleak.

In January, The Runner reported that the Speaker of KSA council had not received a single executive or committee report since the start of her term, despite more than twenty being expected. Only one vice-president submitted anything resembling a substantive report. For an organization funded by mandatory student fees, this is a serious governance failure. Without regular reporting, neither council nor students have any reliable way to assess what their leadership is actually doing.

At the same time, the KSA is facing what its own financial documents describe as a seven-figure financial deficit, a deteriorating public reputation, and a relationship with KPU administration that has become visibly strained. The association’s credibility has taken a hit both on campus and beyond it. Even the university itself appears increasingly uncomfortable with the conduct of its own student leadership.

Despite all of this, students continue to hear confident messaging. Public statements from KSA executives emphasize hard work, progress behind the scenes, and ongoing advocacy. What is missing is evidence. There is little available documentation showing what a full year of executive leadership has delivered for students, beyond financial instability and internal disorder.

This gap between messaging and reality is what makes the situation particularly troubling.

Many of the people closest to the organization’s day-to-day operations are not in a position to speak openly. Staff are expected to keep things running while navigating shifting roles, unclear authority, and professional limits on what they can say publicly. They see the problems up close, but cannot realistically become the ones to raise alarms.

The result is a closed loop. Students hear reassuring narratives from leadership. Council meetings remain opaque and disseminate minimal information. Staff are constrained from speaking. Meanwhile, the organization continues to slide deeper into crisis without meaningful accountability.

This goes beyond poor management. It creates an environment where students are effectively asked to take everything on faith. No reports. No measurable outcomes. No transparent accounting of how an entire year of governance translated into tangible benefit for the people paying for it.

That is not just a public relations problem. It undermines the basic premise of student representation.

Student unions exist to act on behalf of students, not to manage impressions. They exist to justify the trust placed in them through clear records, open governance, and real results. When those foundations erode, so does the legitimacy of every external claim they make.

Which is why the current moment feels so deeply ironic. Student unions across B.C. are criticizing government for rushed processes, vague consultations, and decisions being made without proper oversight.

At Kwantlen, students are living inside a version of that same problem.

A student union that cannot clearly demonstrate what its leadership has accomplished over an entire year — beyond financial turmoil and reputational damage — is not simply underperforming. It is asking students to believe a story that the available evidence just does not support.

And that should concern anyone who cares about what student representation is supposed to mean.

Not my job to explain it

Not everyone will understand your journey— and that’s okay.

Some will only see the miles, not the weather. The wrong turns, the nights you slept on faith because certainty never showed up.

You are not here to make your life legible to strangers. You are not required to footnote your heart or submit your longing for peer review.

You’re here to live your life— to follow the pull when it makes no sense, to choose wonder over safety, to answer the call even when no one else hears it ringing.

Let them misunderstand. You were never meant to be explained. You were meant to be become.

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#poetry #romance #travel

4 January 2026

Green wood: Originally conceived as an enlarging and flattening of a small bulbous scene reflected in a green vase at my new Wood Green house. Learned that “green wood” is the phrase for freshly-chopped wood that hasn't dried out yet (nice alignment with a cut flower stem). Soft feeling of little lights traveling from a surface to dark depths. But the painting itself became about dueling material impulses. Thick application versus thin staining, muted tones versus the strong light source(s), measured marks versus ones made with momentum. Palette indebted to Joe Brainard's Whippoorwill (1974, the one at The Met). A close examination of that painting, at least from what I can glean in reproduction, reveals a careful, considered back and forth between the warmth of the early layers and the cool topmost ones. The eye also boomerangs across the composition—playing with that movement is interesting to me. And at the bottom of the image, the brown masses that are the floor and the sofa frame sandwich the loveliest bits of color in the tiny space between them—I hoped something similar would happen in my work, and I think it kind of did with the red watercolor peeking through. That handling of color, of restrained use in small space, is attractive. Happened in On diversion too. Something to explore further perhaps.

This month, I’m engaged in a training course to serve as a spiritual direction supervisor. Whereas my typical appointments are centered on the needs, story, and becoming of the client, this work would focus on supporting another director through careful listening to case presentations on challenging sessions, offering affirmation, education, consultation, thoughtful challenge, and an invitation to self-reflection.

These responses are designed to support the director in their role, help them to continue their formation and development as therapeutic listeners, and provide insights necessary to be their most skillful selves for their own clients.

Halfway through the class, I’m already making lots of wonderful connections and gaining vital experience through roleplays and observing consultations. I’m looking forward to completing the course, though I’m not in a rush to build a supervision caseload. I want to start slow to continue to practice the craft, and trust that I can continue to receive support in these interactions through my own supervision relationship.

I’m also excited about using these new skills and frameworks in the peer supervision group that I belong to, hopefully to the benefit of everyone who attends. I’m so grateful that my own supervisor invited me into this experience and gave me a way to continue to deepen this aspect of my life and work. Bearing witness to people is indeed an awesome and deeply privileged experience. I want to do everything I can to nurture that trust and bring skill, attentiveness, and compassion to that space.

I’m also pleased to report that I will be teaching with Spiritual Directors International again this February on the afternoon of the 9th. I’ll be the lead-off session of an eight part series on providing spiritual companionship with people on the margins. You can learn more about that course here.

I’m really excited to share about the lessons I learned during my time as the lead chaplain and trainer for Faith on Foot, a street outreach program connected to the organization now known as Rutland Neighbors. Connecting with people in neighborhoods, outdoor hangouts, camp sites, on front porches, and on the street led to countless moments of awe and wonder as we engaged in the art of what Carl Jung called “being a human soul present with another human soul.”

In the liturgical calendar, this shorter period of Ordinary Time, also called the season after Epiphany, the focus of the Gospel stories are on the steady revelation of who Jesus is, and how the divine is fully present in him. Our street team used to reference the Road to Emmaus story from the Easter season, noting that “every seven miles we see Jesus”. I feel such deep gratitude that every week I am blessed with opportunities to catch glimpses of divinity shining through the stories of the people I care for.

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: A practical Accra-chic flair: 5 Ways to Wear Ankara to Work Without Breaking the Dress Code, She's a single mother, Wear the right slip, and Like Cakes

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A practical Accra-chic flair: 5 Ways to Wear Ankara to Work Without Breaking the Dress Code. Because culture and corporate can absolutely coexist. Let’s be honest — the Accra corporate scene is evolving, and so is the wardrobe. Gone are the days when African prints were reserved for Fridays or special occasions. The modern Accra girl knows how to weave her culture into her career — and still keep it classy. If you’ve ever wondered how to rock Ankara at the office without raising eyebrows from HR, here’s your stylish cheat sheet. The Ankara Blazer — Your Power Move When in doubt, start with a blazer. A tailored Ankara jacket over a white blouse and neutral trousers instantly says “I mean business — but make it Ghana.” Go for prints with muted tones or geometric patterns that feel sophisticated. Think navy, maroon, olive, or soft gold. Pair with nude pumps or loafers, and you’re boardroom ready with a twist. The Statement Skirt — Chic Yet Professional A high-waisted Ankara pencil skirt is your wardrobe MVP. Pair it with a crisp button-down shirt or a silk blouse in a solid colour. It’s the perfect mix of feminine and fierce. Add a slim belt and minimal jewelry, and you’ve turned your office corridor into a runway — without breaking any rules. The Hybrid Dress — Half Print, Full Confidence For the girl who loves versatility, look for dresses that blend Ankara accents with plain fabrics. Think a shift dress with printed sleeves, or a monochrome body with an Ankara collar and waistband. It keeps the vibe professional but with a cultural edge — like saying “Yes, I’m fashionable, and I can still close that deal.” The Subtle Touch — Ankara Accessories Not ready to go full-print? Start small. Add a pop of Ankara through accessories — a fabric belt, a tote bag, a headband, or even a statement shoe. These accents bring colour and creativity to your look without crossing the corporate line. It’s a great way to test your comfort zone while keeping things sleek. The Friday Flair — Go Bold, Stay Polished Ah, the sacred Casual Friday. Your chance to fully embrace the print! Try a tailored Ankara jumpsuit or a midi dress with structured shoulders. Keep your accessories gold-toned, your heels simple, and your confidence sky-high. The key is tailoring — clean cuts keep your look professional even when your fabric is loud. Style Note: Ankara at work isn’t rebellion — it’s evolution. It’s the Accra girl’s way of saying, “I can honor my culture and run the boardroom — in the same outfit.” So next Monday, when you reach for that plain black blazer, pause. Your Ankara is waiting — bold, beautiful, and absolutely ready for business She's a single mother. This sounds a bit like a derogative description of some silly girl who got herself impregnated by Mr. flyaway and now has to scrape money, not for one but for 2. For the juveniles it seems iPhones and KFC are major contributors. Anyway, we wish girly the best and many do get happily married later. But the above scenario is not always the case. A recent trend is that the girl does want to have a child, normal, after all she's completely build towards that, but she doesn't want the hassle of a husband around who wants to have full details of her movements whilst he himself regularly disappears, with the risk of HIV as a bonus. So she now has a few options. Adopt, though that is not the real thing but the advantage is that you can choose, boy or girl, good looking, seemingly intelligent and heathy, and if you get one at age say 3 the child will not really remember anything else than you. And, maybe surprisingly, grandparents mostly will fully accept the child as their own, even if they have “real” ones from other children. Another advantage is that you don't get stretch marks, at least not from having a child. An option as well is to get pregnant from a known person, maybe a family friend, you've had the chance to check a few things like madness or sickness in his genes, and hopefully sickle. Complication could be that he wants to get too close to the child, claim ownership, things like that, and if everyone agrees that the child has same nose, or bat ears, it will be difficult to deny that he is the father. Option 3 is to get what we call a “one night stand”, say your name is Godwilling Mensah from Kumasi, give him a phone number of a police officer and disappear forever. But in this case you have no idea what's in the making, all his brothers and sisters could be raving mad. Last one (but let me know if you know more) is to get artificial insemination from a donor, the clinic will confirm that the sperm donor looks good and is healthy and “normal”, but that's all you get, apart from a very fat bill (10-25 k easily). Yeah, men have it easy.....

Wear the right slip. Any gynecologist will advise you to wear simple cotton slips, they reduce your chances of getting “cheese”, yeast infection. But they do not always look very good on you, so we wear more elegant underwear. But beware what you wear. A recent test done in Switzerland on 16 female slips found that 14 contained bisphenols A, B and S, substances which are reprotoxic, or, simply said, make you sterile. Winners were Triumph, Chantelle and Calvin Klein with H&M, Intimissimi and Zara doing a good toxic job as well. The 2 “clean” slips were from Etam and Luxury Moments by Hanro. In Ghana you'll probably be buying a “no name” slip, or a Butterfly, Eagle or Royal from China. Maybe pure simple cotton is better?

Like cakes? Real homemade good ingredients not dried out cakes? Try Green Butterfly market at Parks and Garden, near the Russian Embassy and opposite the DVLA office, Accra, every first and third Saturday of the month. If you are only coming for the cakes come early, the better ones run out quick. Apart from cakes and foodstuffs there’s a wide range of articles, ranging from tie and dye to sculptures, books, clothing, you mention it, I never realized how creative Accra can be. A worthwhile experience, and to see it all you’ll need several hours. Additional bonus is that most of the female vendors really try to look their best, and they do.

Lydia...

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GO HOOSIERS!

My Big Ten Conference Game to follow this Friday night will be out in Piscataway, New Jersey, as the Indiana Hoosiers Men's Basketball team travels East to play against the Rutgers University Scarlet Knights.

And the adventure continues.

A Dublin, California man spent several decades trying to unravel the mystery of why his Venetian blinds were tangled in his master bedroom. After buying his single-family home in 1957, Gordon Neely replaced all the gray window curtains with the foldable blinds.

In 1962, Neely noticed one of his blinds was always stuck on the right side when raising and lowering. The turning rod also didn’t work.

Neely commented, “I’ve been untangling these dang blinds for over sixty years straight. I couldn’t eat or sleep. These things should be illegal.”

This year, Neely replaced all his blinds with the same curtains he originally replaced. Unfortunately, a few days after this interview, Neely died in a tragic accident involving his window curtains. A police investigation is ongoing. Neely is survived by his wife Nancy and his three adult children Michael, Gordon Jr., and Kim.

#news #parody #venetianblinds

As I previously recounted, I am in this neighborhood because it was what I could afford at the time (I cannot afford it presently, but I am have yet to get to the thicks of this story to explain.). Although I liked the communities Panther Trace and MiraBay, neither of those are what I imagined for my life. I didn’t have dreams of suburbia and Homeowners Associations.

I like city life. I like having access to a myriad of things and the ability to use my legs to go as far as my body will allow. I love the bungalows in Seminole Heights and Tampa Heights. I also love the architecture in Hyde Park and Palma Ceia. I love that people’s houses are pinks and blues and that they have such diverse lawns and flora. I love plantation shutters and mother-in-law quarters. I love hardwood floors, room additions, and double lots. None of this has anything to do with HOAs.

I like country life. I like space, not being able to hear neighborhoods’ domestic violence and inebriation, and the ability to play my own thunderous music without concern. I like yards where dogs and goats roam. I like long driveways that police and solicitors cannot access but family and friends can park unbothered. I want to sit on the porch or patio bucked naked and scream obscenities or make videos for fans. I want to put on tattered overalls, muddy boots, and a wide-brimmed, straw hat and pretend-smoke a pipe and spit out black stuff while watching the main road for trouble-makers. None of this has anything to do with HOAs.

Currently, I live in neither the city nor the country. I live in HOA land that was once cow land and probably where the deer and antelope played. I don’t even know if there are any neighborhoods in the SouthShore region without HOAs. Sure, I have amenities and shit; but I can probably count on two hands the amount of times I have been in the gym, in the pool, and/or walked around the lakes. The location of my neighborhood does not give me access to anything more than police patrolling for rolling stops, speeding, lunatic drivers (but not a policeman in sight somehow), and major automobile accidents—some resulting in fatalities. Is this HOA life?

At least we have a community of united people and a formidable HOA that applies the standards equally to keep our property values high, right?

I work for a mid-sized company in a dense urban pocket in the U.S.—no need to get into the line of business or its proprietary tech. I’ve been there about 30 years. The coworkers are often the best part, but the workplace politics are definitely the worst.

The mature version of me was faced with a dilemma when I was thinking about this piece:

“How much of my disdain for the office is because of me? And not others?”

I haven’t developed the formula to rule it out.

Luz was a middle-aged Italian woman—heavyset, heavy makeup, dressed unprofessionally, and her desk was always a disaster. She smoked constantly, spoke with a deep husky voice, and was single with no kids. She liked to claim she never gossiped, but that was a lie; coworkers told me otherwise. I tolerated her and kept her at arm’s length when I could. Back then I was naïve—she was my boss, so I obeyed—but in hindsight, I let her walk all over me. She was conventionally pretty, and her charm came from the crude jokes she told, which usually landed. My coworkers agreed with me: she was no example of leadership. She would do whatever she wanted while telling us to do the opposite.

She gets a solid F.

#badboss #career

I wrote this post nearly 3 months ago, and it feels like I got 3 years older since then. Strange that I never published it.

Now with a much more profound understanding of AI and much, much better models, the changes I made here would have been done in minutes. I guess. 😅

The Resume-Project: https://github.com/danbruegge/resume

I have never written about it. This is one of my projects that had a low priority in the past and doesn’t get the love it deserves. But eventually, this is one that saves me a lot of work, and I need to adjust only a JSON entry after I’m done with a client.

Changes

Completed ✅

1. Outputs docx format, besides pdf.
   • I got the question from recruiters a lot if I could provide a docx file instead of a pdf.
   • After a lot of back and forth with some tools, I finally found a suitable solution.
2. PDF export is working again, now with Puppeteer.
   • wkhtmltopdf got deprecated.
   • It wasn’t installable via Homebrew anymore.
   • Now there is a modern solution where also the PDF looks better; wkhtmltopdf had problems rendering modern CSS.
3. Update to Next.js v15.5.
4. Update to Tailwind v4.

Planned 🏗️

• Design update.
• Update ESLint to v9.
• General update of all other applications.

Completing the HTML to DOCX conversion is a massive milestone for me. One that I thought would never be done. Because I did not see the use for it AND .docx is a shitty format. 🙃

I should invest more time in it. But if the clients provide long contracts, the need is not so high, so I constantly forget about it.

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92 of #100DaysToOffload
#log #dev #resume
Thoughts?

Nitrogen deficiency in cannabis appears as yellowing of lower, older leaves that progresses upward from the bottom of the plant. Because nitrogen is a mobile nutrient, the plant moves it from old growth to support new leaves. The key diagnostic marker is that yellowing includes the veins – unlike iron or magnesium deficiency where veins stay green.

Quick checklist:

• Yellowing starts on BOTTOM leaves
• Yellowing includes veins (not just between veins)
• New growth at top still green
• Leaves may cup upward before falling off

If yellowing appears on top/new growth first, it is NOT nitrogen deficiency.

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Why Nitrogen Matters

Nitrogen is the most abundant mineral in cannabis and essential for chlorophyll production. Without adequate nitrogen, photosynthesis suffers and growth slows dramatically.

Demand by growth stage:

• Vegetative: High demand (NPK ratio around 3:1:1)
• Flowering: Lower demand (NPK ratio around 1:3:2)

Late flower yellowing of lower leaves is often normal senescence, not deficiency. The plant redirects energy to buds.

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Visual Symptoms

Early Stage

• Pale or lime-colored lower leaves
• Subtle loss of deep green color
• Plant appears less vibrant overall

Moderate Stage

• Yellow spreads from lower to middle foliage
• Leaves may show brown spots at edges
• Leaves begin to cup upward

Severe Stage

• Entire leaves turn yellow including veins
• Leaves become brown and crispy
• Lower branches die back
• Severe growth stunting

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The Key Pattern: Bottom-Up

Mobile nutrients like nitrogen get pulled from old growth to support new growth. The plant sacrifices older leaves to keep young leaves alive.

Critical rule: If yellowing starts at the TOP, look for other causes:

• Iron deficiency (interveinal, new growth)
• Light burn (top canopy bleaching)
• Calcium or sulfur issues

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How to Distinguish From Similar Issues

Nitrogen vs. Magnesium: Both affect older leaves, but magnesium shows yellow between green veins. Nitrogen yellows everything including veins.

Nitrogen vs. Iron: Location is opposite. Iron affects NEW growth at top. Both can show yellowing, but iron keeps veins green.

Nitrogen vs. pH lockout: High pH can cause nitrogen lockout. Check your pH first (6.0-7.0 soil, 5.5-6.5 hydro).

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Nitrogen Toxicity: The Opposite Problem

Too much nitrogen causes “the claw” – leaves curve downward at tips with abnormally dark green, glossy appearance. Growth becomes stunted despite the dark color.

Fix by flushing with pH'd water and reducing feeding.

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Treatment

For deficiency:

1. Check pH first – lockout causes false deficiency

2. Add nitrogen source (grow nutrients, fish emulsion)

3. Start at ¼ strength, increase gradually

4. Monitor new growth – old leaves won't recover

For toxicity:

1. Flush medium with pH'd water

2. Reduce nitrogen in feeding schedule

3. Wait for new healthy growth

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How AI Detection Works

PlantLab's AI detects nitrogen issues by analyzing:

• Bottom-to-top color gradients
• Vein vs. interveinal coloration
• Leaf cupping direction
• Spatial distribution across canopy

Early detection catches issues when they're still fixable – within the first week of visible symptoms.

Try PlantLab free at plantlab.ai – 10 diagnoses per day.

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FAQ

Can yellow leaves turn green again? No. Once chlorophyll is gone, damaged leaves won't recover. But new growth will be healthy if you fix the issue.

How quickly does nitrogen deficiency spread? Without correction, you'll see progression from lower to middle leaves within 1-2 weeks.

My plant is in late flower and yellowing – is this deficiency? Probably not. Late flower yellowing of lower leaves is normal senescence. Only intervene if yellowing is rapid and reaches upper leaves.

What's the fastest fix? Foliar feeding provides fastest uptake (24-48 hours). Root feeding takes 3-7 days to show improvement.

Does nitrogen deficiency affect yield? Yes. Nitrogen-deficient plants produce smaller buds. Fix it early to minimize impact.

Our Father Who art in heaven Hallowed be Thy name Thy Kingdom come Thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven Give us this day our daily Bread And forgive us our trespasses As we forgive those who trespass against us And lead us not into temptation But deliver us from evil

Amen

Jesus is Lord! Come Lord Jesus!

Come Lord Jesus! Christ is Lord!

Weerstand

Ik heb de laatste gekocht die sinds de vorige en zeer waarschijnlijk voor de volgende deze laatste exploot is met veel poespas en de nodige rompslomp naar wederzijdse behoefte aan mijn zinnen gepresenteerd en nu draait de door mij bezeten schijf om zijn eigen as op de voedertafel en langzaam maar zeker worden de sporen fijn gemaald dankzij een scherp geslepen met pijn en moeite niet de mijne gedolven peperdure diamant op de 33e toer tot het door het gehoor kan worden verteerd en op een weblog elders op een heel andere virtuele buitenaardse stek in ieder geval tot het volgende object voor vergelijkbare affectie uit onze diepste kern zelfverzekerd op zal komen borrelen wel zeker één of twee maal met woorden als daden vereerd

V Dědolesu se o tom nemluví nahlas. Ne proto, že by to bylo zakázané – ale proto, že kdo byl u toho, ten ví, a kdo nebyl, tomu by to stejně nevysvětlili. Říká se tomu party u Prdláře.

Prdlář není blázen. Není ani provokatér v běžném slova smyslu. Je to spíš katalyzátor chaosu – dědek, který má zvláštní vztah k sovám, prdům a okamžikům, kdy se věci utrhnou ze řetězu. Miluje šum, miluje stiplavost, miluje, když se prdelnosti vymknou kontrole a začnou žít vlastním životem. A sovy to cítí.

Jak to začíná

Nikdy to nezačne rámusem. Nikdy ohňostrojem. Začne to “prdlitým” prdem. Krátký, suchý, přesně zakroucený pohyb prdele – žádná náhoda. Prdlář zakroutí prdelí, pustí ven signál a je hotovo. To není zvuk. To je pozvánka. V lese se něco pohne. Vítr na okamžik ztratí směr. A sovy – ty to nezpochybňují. Ony vyhodnocují.

Když přiletí sovy

Sovy nelétají na party jako lidi. Nevlítnou dovnitř s řevem. Nejdřív si sednou. Na strom. Na střechu. Na okenici. Jedna si zkouší prdnout potichu. Druhá hlasitě. Třetí chaoticky, protože to je její styl. Jakmile Prdlář otevře dveře, začíná chaos.

Sovy lítají po světnici, narážejí do trámů, tisknou prdele na okenice, prdí do rohů, pod stůl, do hrnků. Smrad se vrství, míchá, vrací se zpátky do místnosti, protože okno je sice otevřené, ale Dědoles ví, kdy něco nemá pustit ven.

Proč je to nebezpečné

Jednou se přišel podívat i jelen. Jen na chvíli. Ze zvědavosti. Už nikdy nebyl stejný. Jelení prdy jsou silné, ale nekontrolované. Soví prdy jsou chaotické. A Prdlář? Ten chaos miluje a ještě ho zesiluje. Pobíhá mezi sovami, zakrucuje prdelí, prdí do rytmu, vytváří víry, zpětné proudy a prdelní turbulence.

Dokonce i Prdellock (něco jako dědoleský warlock) se jednou ukázal. Jen na prahu. Stačilo mu pár vteřin, aby pochopil, že kdyby zůstal, Prdeloid (Prdellockův démonický pet) by nepoznal rozdíl mezi sovou a dědkem. Otočil se a šel pryč. To už je co říct.

Jak to končí

Nikdy stejně. Někdy sovy odletí samy, spokojené, s novou technikou prdu. Někdy zůstane ticho tak hutné, že se dědci v okolí budí a nevědí proč. Někdy je ráno jelen pryč a nikdo se neptá kde. Prdlář většinou zůstane stát ve dveřích, zadýchaný, šťastný, s výrazem člověka, který viděl něco, co se nedá zopakovat. A v Dědolesu se další dny říká jen:

„Bylo to u Prdláře?“ „Bylo.“ A víc není potřeba.