It’s Saturday morning, January 24th, 2026.
This is the point that often feels most unstable: after a decision is made, but before its consequences are fully visible. You commit, and then you wait to see whether reality cooperates.
Last week, it became clear that improving our retirement lifestyle would require focus, not effort spread thinly across too many directions. I narrowed my short-term priorities to two areas where I have both depth and near-term leverage: sewing and programming.
What I didn’t anticipate was how quickly the surrounding conditions began to align.
On the programming side, I started a Tuesday/Friday writing sequence about using AI as a serious development partner. Not “vibe coding,” but a disciplined approach to treating an AI as a senior collaborator — one that allows a single developer to operate with the effective output of a small team.
The launch was quiet. That’s ideal. Early work benefits from room to iterate without commentary. If the idea has merit, it will eventually speak for itself.
Sewing followed a similar pattern. Several long-standing supply gaps closed at once: remaining orders arrived, critical materials were now on hand, and a simple alignment tool removed a recurring source of error.
Then something unexpected happened. My wife’s best friend, who had set aside sewing years ago during a long family illness, offered her entire sewing library. Yesterday, I brought home a van full of fabric, thread, and notions — the accumulated infrastructure of a serious practice.
At the same time, my wife has taken a renewed interest in sewing as well.
I had assumed this transition into retirement would be defined by friction and loss of momentum. Instead, it’s beginning to look like a sequencing problem: choosing the right constraints, and then moving forward while the path is clear.
The work now is execution.