lj_maintenance (comments disabled, so I can't link to the post directly -- but it's the most recent entry in the community) announcing a goatload of new code, and corrections to the load balancer which was recently installed. He says we are very close to having speed and stability. Yes, yes, I know we've heard it all before. But hope springs eternal, what? I know for sure that something has been done tonight, because my journal has changed colors without my permission, as has my friends view. I have them set for soft gray and white, and they are suddenly blue. The new code is on acid! I'm also pretty sure that I had my friends page set to the generator style, but it has defaulted back to -- the default style! I suppose we'll be seeing a lot of such behavior as the changes are implemented. Ah, well. If it finally fixes the site, it will be worth the disruption.Incidentally, it must be mere coincidence that this flurry of activity follows so closely on the heels of my previous post. If Brad has decided to take me up on my oblique offer, as alluded to in the final paragraph of that post, he has yet to inform me of the fact. It would be churlish of me to insist that it was (as indeed it was) made in jest -- merely a figure of speech. I suppose this means I'm committed. But, if this be not coincidence, I can think of no other reason why Brad would suddenly be so anxious to fix problems which have festered so long. I am amazed at my own power! Who would have though my allure so great?
Meanwhile, another night has slid by, the moon and its shadows are fading, and color returns to the world. Now that it has warmed, the waterfowl must be spending the nights at the lakes farther up the ridge, as I no longer hear them squawking in the gray light as they fly up from the valley marshes. There are only the cheerful morning songbirds, and the sound of the cars of weekday commuters on the nearby road. Another clear, hot day today, I'm sure.
The last of the latest series of pictures is of a cool, cloudy day. It was taken during a brief moment when the sun emerged to set the fresh green fields aglow. When summer comes, I'll miss such scenes as this.