softwear engineering

I spelled that the way I meant that :-)

I've been knitting since I was nine. I love to knit, and find it very relaxing. I knit socks, sweaters, Aran knits, and am currently attempting an Icelandic pattern I brought home from Iceland.

It occurred to me that it is not all that surprising that I like both knitting and programming. In many ways, knitting is very similar to programming - knitting is executing a design in yarn; programming is executing a design in a particular language. The designs are written down (patterns/specs). In both, it is best to know what you are setting out to do ahead of time, and the end result is hopefully useful. And it is the more experienced knitters/programmers who write the designs.

The similarities run deeper still. The state of mind I find myself in when knitting is similar to that I experience from coding, and I get similar rewards from looking at the finished product.

Perhaps there are things to be learned from knitters in programming. Imagine if the creation of a sweater was handled as a software product. Assignments would be doled out - this team member does the cuffs of the sleeves, another does the rest of the sleeves, another the back, another the front, another would be in charge of putting it together, and yet another fixing any issues that arose, and there would be someone in charge making sure it all hung together in the end.

But as a knitter, I would never ever pick up anyone else's sweater and start working on it. The knitting project is a very personal endeavor. Everyone's stitch is unique - if I started knitting in the middle of a sleeve on someone else's sweater, the sleeve would have a discontinuity. The other knitter would be highly annoyed. And the end result would be the less for it.

Today's software projects are usually way too large for a single person to build themselves, but the lessons to be learned from the craftsman are still important. The differences in knitters' stitches are a very visual clue, but the software product does reflect the programmers who put it together, too. When dividing up a project, we need to make sure that each programmer has something they can look at and say "I did that!" and feel the craftsman's pride in accomplishment. And we need to manage the boundaries between different areas of code to ensure that they fit together seamlessly (pun not intended, it just happened...) Those seams affect the feel of the product.

I still remember one of the best things anyone ever said to me.... Speaking of ViP, a senior Lotus architect told me that he could see me in the product. That is one of the best things anyone can tell an engineer. When we divide up a software project, we need to make sure that every engineer can hear that!

memory lane

As Carly Simon would say, "I'm home again, in my own narrow bed..."

I'm in Buffalo, and spent the day in the hospital in which I was born. My mom was there for a very different reason today, but she is now recovering from successful heart surgery. A scary day, but a good one since it went well.

It's odd being in Buffalo. I've forgotten so much, at least superficially. Yet when I missed a turn on the way home from the hospital, I maneuvered my way through some old shortcuts I used to know. Turn off the brain, trust the instincts, and found my way home. When I got home, I walked around the block. The names on the houses are different, but the houses are labelled in my head just as they were when I left home for grad school. I didn't recognize a soul, and I'm sure those who saw me had no idea I lived here for 21 years.

Tomorrow I am going to stop by Canisius on my way to the hospital. I've forgotten this part of me, this part that never touched a computer and had very different dreams. I certainly love my chosen path, and couldn't abandon it, but wonder how to synthesize in the rest of me. Those parts of me are as alive as the ingrained memories of the paths home.

Life is fragile, as seeing my mom connected to a host of monitors reminds me. We can't afford to let any bit of ourselves be neglected - maybe I do need to start that novel!

I was just bringing my son to an island violin maker to see if my old violin needed any work before he started taking lessons with it. It was my grandfather's violin, so is a bit fragile, but fortunately it just needed a string. The violin maker is an amazing craftsman, based here on the island. In telling the tale of my violin, I mentioned that when I was little, I had really wanted to play cello, but with the wisdom only parents understand (sometimes), was told that I should start with the violin (which I believe had more to do with the fact that we already had a violin ready for me to use). I took lessons for about three years, but never felt I had anything to say with a violin, and when I was a teenager, moved on to guitar. In the past few years, though, I've fallen in love with the tone of the viola. But I don't have time to play and much of what I once knew about playing the violin has been overwritten pretty thoroughly.

But then he showed me a viola he had made, gave it to me, and said try it.

It's home with me now for a trial. I have much to remember and yet to learn, but I think it's going to be fun :-)

at least I wasn't barefoot

It's been a pretty quiet morning. No (scheduled) work today, slept in a bit, did the dishes, let the dogs run in and out of the house to the fenced yard freely for a bit, sat down at the computer *well, it *is* here...), felt something soft under my sandal... Looked, piece of dark cloth? What has Batman found to chew now.... No, not cloth. A very wet but completely intact (but probably scared to death) baby mouse or rabbit. It seemed a bit dark for a mouse, but it may just have been wet.

And five spaniel faces looking at me, none confessing.

I'm closing the door to the outdoors before they find the rest of them.

adrenalin

I thought it was a quiet, rainy Saturday. I was doing a bit of code, and glanced out the window to let a thought percolate. What I saw should not have been there.

A white clumber spaniel, strolling around the front yard. Not in the fenced back yard.

The house seems strangely quiet. If Wendy is loose, who else is? It's very quiet...

All five dogs have escaped the yard. I don't remember putting them outside. OK, breathe, one at a time. Get Wendy in the house. I put on a hat and go to the door. It's wide open, well at least now I know how they got out. Call Wendy. Go back to the door (chased dogs tend to run) and wait trying to breathe. Wendy appears at the door, with Batman. Not sure where he was, but that's two down, three to go.

Downstairs, the boys have become aware. Georgia walked by the other door, and they let her in that way.

That just leaves Woody and Zoe, brother and sister, partners in crime. Call, no pitter patter of soppy, wet feet.

OK, outside again, two leashes in hand, and a hat to try to keep some of the downpour off me. Walk up the driveway calling - notice two cars in the road stopped facing each other. My heart stops. too. At the end of the driveway appeared two smiling spaniels, very proud of themselves, apparently having just run through the space between the two cars.

Safe home. Breathing again.

Another graduation

This time my eighth grader, who for a reason I can't fathom, decided he wanted to wear a tux to his graduation. I've been to six middle school or eighth grade graduations now, and had a strong sense of the fact that this would be the last (til the next generation, anyway). It's strange that the baby will be in high school in September.

Part of the deal with letting him wear a tux was letting us take pictures.

... See my Tabblo>

Questions and Answers

I've noticed a trend in discussion databases. Someone posts a question. The first few responses are often of the form: you should have asked the question in this other place, you should have searched this database because the answer is here already, or you really should be asking this other question instead.

Most of these responses are from those who know the answer, but instead of just answering, they don't include the answer, in seeming punishment for asking the question. Those who answer with the you should have searched this database response must have actually done the search to be able to say that - yet all too often the link to the answer is not included.

This is creating a culture where it isn't safe to ask questions.... Whatever happened to the "there are no dumb questions" attitude?

Bittersweet

I'm proud of him, and yet I can't shake the image of a little blonde four year old in a blue "Save the Humans" sweatshirt. I don't know how he ended up being a high school senior so fast, and now he's graduated.

I took a bunch of pictures... Before I start crying again, here's the tabblo!

See my Tabblo>

island time

I was tired last week. Jet lag, leftover tasks that needed doing from before going to DNUG, catching up with stuff at home, overall pretty overwhelming. We had ferry tickets to take us to the island leaving Saturday morning, returning Monday morning. And a bunch of kids who didn't want to go.

So I gave in. I stayed home while Steve headed down to do some prep work on the house for summer. I made sure the nearly graduated senior didn't throw a party and that things were calm on the home front. And I slept decadently late on Sunday morning.

And woke up with energy.

I made sure all the kids were under control of the oldest one here (who is more than 21, so I'm not being terribly irresponsible!) And I left my laptop behind, put the puppy on the leash, and left for the island. The drive that seemed so daunting before sleep passed quickly, the tall New England pines slowly replaced by the scrub pines and sandy soil of the cape. Parked the car, hopped the bus to the ferry, and watched the water bring me home.

I remember endless summers stretching in front of me - and it felt like I should just stay forever. But reality calls me back, and I returned to America on the 10:45 this morning. But the island worked her magic, even in way too short a trip. My heart is lighter as I return, and it beats with an island rythmn now.

A sampling....

of Iceland pictures using Ned's new picture tool!

See my Tabblo>

the long way home

It's 10:15pm here in Reykjavik, and it's still light out. I'm taking the long way home from Karlsruhe, Germany, and it is just beautiful here. Clear, crisp, sunny, and a starkly beautiful landscape. Just what my soul needed after the past few weeks/months of intense work (my day job on Workplace Designer has also been pretty hectic!).

There will be more to say about the Domino Designer in Eclipse project, but Chris has done a great job http://www-03.ibm.com/developerworks/blogs/page/InsideLotus?entry=dnug_domino_designer_7_plus filling in some details! We'll keep you posted, and be asking for feedback as we progress.

I did the Golden Circle tour today - walked between the American and Eurasian continental plates, saw the Gullfoss waterfall and the Geysir and Strokkur geysers (though only Strokkur was feeling like spouting), lots of geothermal energy, volcanos and craters, a glacier, and even a bit of snow fell. A magical day!

It will be good to go back home tomorrow, though. Have to wonder why the kids were cleaning the house....

my working heart's desire

Ever since I moved to Workplace Designer from Domino Designer a little over two years ago, I've had a dream.... I had unfinished business in Domino Designer - there were things I wanted to do that could not easily be done within the existing code base in the amount of time allocated to a release. Specifically, to improve the script editing experience within Domino Designer.

Seeing what the Eclipse editors could do for the same experience in Workplace Designer out of the gate, it was clear to me what needed doing. I've been championing a cause inside IBM for a while, gaining support for it, and yesterday, I was thrilled to show a prototype of Domino Designer embedded in Eclipse.

The prototype was fun to build, and my team pitched in to help with some last minute requests - and if I read the audience response correctly, this truly is the right thing to do. It's the beginning of the road, but I am so happy that we are doing the right thing for our Domino developers.

Michaelangelos or Monkeys

I worked at Wang for 13 years, from boom through bust. Quarter after quarter of 34% growth felt like it would go on forever, but of course it didn't. Wang was good to and for me - I morphed from technical writer to engineer, fresh out of school student with no idea what a job was to a valued employee. But living through the fall was sad. I left of my own accord in 1992, just months before the bankruptcy.

As Wang was thrashing, they signed up hook, line, and sinker for the "Quality Leadership Process" program (QLP). Every employee in the company had to take an initial short introductory course, and were supposed to follow up with a multi-month course that took something like 20% of your time for that period. Employees in the intensive course were supposed to complete some sort of project that would make a positive impact on the bottom line.... One of the more famous ones was putting up signs encouraging people to take the stairs instead of the elevator if they were only going up one or two floors in the Tower...

I escaped the long course with a well timed maternity leave, and deciding to leave the company before I could get snared into such a time sink. I often wondered what would have happened had I taken the course and suggested that one of the better ways of making a positive impact on the company would be to stop wasting employees' time in that program....

So one of my scars from Wang is that I shiver at the word "process."

I understand that it must be hard to manage engineers - but I struggle with applying process to art. If there are too many rules, the creative process gets thwarted. The key is to give engineers enough creative freedom in a problem to enjoy solving it, without so much freedom that there is chaos in a project. And that's a tough balance to find. Programs like QLP have a formulaic approach to how to do software/business. But when things get formulaic, they lose their art.

I'm told that when Dave Cutler interviewed people at DEC long ago, one of his trademark interview questions was whether software was a science or art. Had I ever interviewed with him, I would have said quite firmly that software was art.

Out of the mouths....

Mom, why don't you just work at work? Isn't home for home stuff? I got that from my son this afternoon.

I remember asking Dr. Stanton - my p-chem (physical chemistry) professor - how I would know when I was working hard enough in a conversation where he was lamenting my tendency to do just enough work to get an A in the course, but no more. He said you were working hard enough if you found yourself thinking about work when you were doing other things. He didn't explain it any more thoroughly than that, but over time I learned he was right, and realized that was a reasonably elegant and perceptive answer. And over time, I also realized that he probably realized before I did that I was not meant to go on in Chemistry, regardless of being able to do well at it.

But when I'm deep into code, there's a background process in my brain working regardless of where I am and what I am (ostensibly) doing. Having found a subject I care deeply about, I can now understand what he was trying to say. And maybe tincture of time has brought me a limited amount of wisdom, too.

So now I need to ask him the next question - how do you stop your brain from working when it is already working hard enough?

Laptops. Chains or wings? Or as Dr. Dolan in one of my favorite courses in college (History and Structure of the English Language) would say - not either/or, but both/and.

Eternal vigilance

I've been cancer free for a little over 11 years now. I had a rare cancer - Merkel Cell Carcinoma (http://www.merkelcell.org/) and they initially told me I had a 50-50 chance of surviving a year. With further testing, I was staged at either IB or II (they were never 100% sure if it had reached my lymph nodes). I had Mohs surgery to excise the tumor (on my left temple), and followed it up with two different kinds of radiation therapy. My last dose of radiation was on St. Patrick's Day, 1995.

At first, I had monthly checkups with my dermatologist, then every other month, then every 3 months, then every 6 months, then yearly. It took a long time, but I finally began to feel safe again. One year, when the anniversary of my surgery passed and I didn't even notice, I realized that mental freedom was part of the cure - the increase in the number of years survived was no longer a significant event. My life was moving past the trauma of diagnosis and treatment.

But I just experienced a new release. One of the benefits of having a rare cancer is that the most prestigious doctors are *interested* in your case. While my dermatologist only sees current surgical patients, he has continued to monitor me - until this year. This year, I was told I could just see one of his associates. To me, that is the final return to "normal." It's as if the final rope tying me to cancer has been thrown off. I still have to watch and monitor, but my case is no longer interesting. And boring is good where health is concerned!

But I won't forget to wear sunscreen.

I forgot

that I am tall. I know that sounds odd, and it struck me that way when I realized that I was realizing that fact anew.

I'm just under 5'7. Above average height for a girl. When I was in my all girls' high school, I was taller than about 90% of the class.

But then I went to a recently coed college, where there were 10 times as many men as women, and I work in a predominantly male field. So I became accustomed to being shorter than most of the people I know. To add insult to injury, my youngest son finally passed me in height last fall.

But yesterday, I had to drop a note off at the high school, and I happened to be walking in the building at the same time as a flock of high school girls getting off a bus. I was confused to realize that I was taller than almost all of them. And then I remembered - nothing has changed but my perspective. I think I'm distressed that environment can change my perception so much!

Planning is for wimps

Today I participated in an internal career event where I served on a panel explaining how I got to "where I am." I was somewhat stunned to even be asked to be on such a panel. I can't say I have a career plan, and I certainly have not taken anywhere near the standard path to architect. My style is certainly winging it - maybe they wanted to show that there are many paths for many different people.... Chemistry major -> Chemistry grad school -> tech writer -> software engineer -> software architect.

I learned relatively early on that I have to follow my heart. If I don't care passionately about what I am doing, I don't invest the energy to do my best work. That may make me a spoiled brat, but it's how my mind works and I just have learned to stop trying to second guess my instincts...

I don't feel the need to climb the ladder per se, what I really want is to get better and better at engineering, and to learn more and more. And I like to have a say in the product that I am building :-) Whatever falls out from that is fine with me. The point for me is to stay happy, to always grow and learn, and to build something I really care about. That is all I need.

So my career decisions have been primarily focused on what I found interesting. My definition of my career success is that I have managed to work on many projects that I really believe in and care deeply about. ViP, Domino Designer, Workplace Designer... I still like what I'm doing now, so I'm not even thinking about "next." The experts may say I should be thinking five years down the line, but I like surprises. Maybe I will be on Workplace Designer v17 by then, maybe there will be something new. But I will make all the career decisions from now til then with my heart.

Blueberry will ride again!

She's fixable, no frame damage. Expensive enough to be painful, but still less than you can get a replacement used Camry wagon for (they stopped making them in 96, and their resale reflects their rarity). Not that Blueberry could ever be replaced.

So we said go to the body shop.

She will be an island car when she's done. Driving maybe 5K miles a year, she should last a good long time. Though my son has already been trying to stake his claim. I will probably have to find the heart to let him drive Blueberry again, but it's going to be really difficult.

But I will be the first to drive her again!

balance

As my working life progresses, I'm finding an increasing tension between architecting and coding. My problem is that I love both. My managers would be perfectly happy if I spent my entire day architecting. But I would be miserable without that real connection to code.

Code grounds me and connects me to the project in a way that architecting does not. And I tend to do my best architecting *while* I'm coding. Coding puts me in an almost meditative state of mind where I can do my best work. I think this breaks traditional rules of design first, code second, but coding puts me in the moment and lets me see the issues all in context.

And I love the creative control of architecture. I moved to coding from technical writing partially because I wanted to have a say in *what* got built before it was too late. I want to figure out what features belong, what features fit, how we can best solve customer needs, etc. I want to design. I don't want to code someone else's design, I want to code my own!

I would posit that you really can't architect without also coding. If I had only been an architect on Workplace Designer rather than coder and architect, I would not have had the skills to know what could be done - I needed to retrain in Eclipse and Java, to get that connection to what's real.

So I am going to have to be a rebel and be a coding architect.

long may she run

Blueberry, as she is affectionately known, is my 1994 Camry wagon. I am unreasonably attached to her. Last summer, our son was in an accident that smashed in her hood and broke the radiator, the grill, and the left quarterpanel is pushed backwards. Major damage, except that he hit something tall, so it is all damage high enough to be away from frame stuff (we believe).

The debate has raged all fall and winter about whether or not to repair a car with 173000 miles on it. Today, her winter of waiting is over - she was towed to a body shop. Stasis has ended. I hope they tell us tomorrow that the cost to repair her is within reason. Though reason may not be the right word in this case.

Early this week the decision will be made. I am certainly leaning towards repairing her. But if nothing else, motion feels good. Wondering back and forth is tiring - spring is in the air, and it's time for life to begin again.