Post hard drive failure, I am resetting up the white box I use as a home server (sure, the dirty old machine is well short of being a paragon of computing power, but it suffices for the simple purposes to which it is put). After installing FreeBSD on it (I had Gentoo before the failure--I like to keep abreast of various OSes) I am going through the ritual of compiling and installing the software I wanted through ports. As I watched pages of compilation messages and warnings earlier this evening I found that the whole thing was relaxing. Laugh if you will, but I actually enjoy building the software from source that way (that said, I lack a bit of the patience to go out and manually grab source for every library and package; we need computers to automate work, not add it). Now, unless I were doing some special performance tweaks for something mission critical, I couldn't justify building the server that way at work. Even with FreeBSD, which we don't use at the shop I'm at, I would feel much more compelled to simply install the binary packages and roll on. After all, if I am building a server we need a server built! But when I am working on my own, I usually want the result--but I can live on until it is done. So I can relax. Take the time to make sure that it is done right, to experiment and create a more interesting set up (which sometimes conflicts with the previous item), and just, in the software sense, stop and smell the roses. We spend so much time professionally trying to keep the trains moving that it is nice to be able to sit in the depot and watch them come in.

A few months ago, I got off a binge of contracting work (most of it vestiges of prior work done while I was trying to stay alive with it between jobs). For a good while, I coded at work then did nothing on my computer at home. After so long of PHP/MySQL from dawn to dusk, I needed a break. Then, I started working on Latrunculi again. I continued the scarcely started subproject of moving it over to Common Lisp (which is now the version in trunk, showing just how far along it has come) and enjoyed refactoring the code, removing issues with the original implementation (some my stupidity, like an overreliance on global variables, and others a library's fault, like the wierd way that threading worked in Chicken), and picking up Common Lisp. I got to do three things that most of us do not really get to do at work: concentrate on perfection, exploratory programming (programming to explore and learn, rather than to merely crank out code for the next deadline), and use a slightly out-of-mainstream language. The first time I did this after a while, I almost literally got a rush of euphoria. That was how good it felt.

The tech joys, for me, are the common elements between the two tasks: concentration on perfection, learning, and using alternate technologies. I could natter on here about how these things make you a better tech anyway (they probably do, but I think that most advocates fail to prove that it actually makes its practitioners better or whether those who are better at their trade are not more apt to also enjoy doing it off hours; there is probably a measure of truth to each), but I won't. I'll leave that to others. Instead, I'll just say that at times when the house is quiet, my wife and son asleep, and I am stealing a few minutes to bask in technical geekery, I thank God for giving us such wonderful toys for the human mind.