On Summit

Now that we're almost a month in, I feel like I should at least check in and share some updates on what's happening at the Akron almost-mansion. I don't know that I'm going to document every element of the Great Akron Home Renovation and Reconstitution Project , but if I do, I'm absolutely going to have to come up with a snappier title for it. Until then, GAHRRP it is. Looking through an interior doorway of a residential home, a plumber in a red hoodie can be seen in an adjoining bathroom measuring a space for a toilet. We are currently in the "Planning for Progress" phase. Here, "Planning for Progress" is my shorthand for the fact that nothing is visibly happening at our new house. Instead, through a series of phone calls with contractors, on site consultations with contractors, follow up conversations with contractors, and disappointing news from contractors, we are laying the groundwork for progress. We are planning for progress to happen in t...

Sorites paradox, sometimes called the paradox of the heap or paradox of the pile, asks us to consider how many small things might be needed to add up to something substantive. The typical version of sorites paradox starts with a heap of sand. From that heap, grains of sand are removed one at a time.  Obviously, removing a single grain doesn't change the nature of the heap. It will still be a heap of sand. But what happens when we repeat the process? What if we were to keep going to the point that only one grain remains? Is it still a heap? If not, at what point did our collection of grains change from being a heap to not being a heap? A picture of a sandy beach, taken from ground level and looking out towards the ocean. A common variant of sorites paradox starts with a single grain of sand and prescribes adding granules one at a time. Adding one grain won't make a heap, nor will the addition of two or three. Through repetition though, we know that a heap of sand will eventually...

I noted in a previous post that we bought a house. Now that the ink has dried on our closing documents, I feel like I can share a bit more about that. While my wife and I currently live in Columbus, we've got family in the greater Akron area and had been looking to move there for a while. There were many houses we looked at, and many houses we could have bought. The one that we ultimately landed on though was 1925 almost mansion in north Akron. If I were to describe it in the parlance of real estate listings I'd say, "This spacious home in Akron's historic North Hill neighborhood boasts wood floors, radiant heat, loads of period details, a stunning ravine view, and...racoons. Two people stand in a snow covered yard in front of an older home that is overgrown with vegetation. They hold a sign between them that says "SOLD". An interior picture of an empty dining room in an older home. The room has wood floors, dated wallpaper, and wainscoting. Yeah. Racoons. Th...

Someone on Bluesky noted that this might be a good time to start blogging again (hashtag-resist advice they called it). Rather than paraphrase, I'll just post the Tom & Lorenzo thread here as it covers their reasoning and rationale: So, I'm dusting off this old blog with the intention of holding onto a platform that isn't so beholden to the whims of toxic billionaires and algo-generated dreck. I don't know exactly what I'll do here, but it will likely involve shaking my fist, kicking against pricks, and sharing some personal notes and observations. Also, we bought a house. So expect to hear about that too.  A man and a woman stand in the snow-covered front yard of an older home. They are smiling for the camera and holding a sign that says, "SOLD" in between them. While you can't see their faces, I have it on good authority that their hearts are full in equal measures with hope and terror, such is the adventure they are about to embark upon! Til nex...