First of the season

https://svonberg.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/console.html

Clunky still. Not bad to have on a tiny screen somewhere as flavor.

Picked up a XIAO 1.28″ round display to use with the Seeed XIAO ESP32S3 Sense chip. It piggybacks beautifully.

So now I have a tiny round capacitive screen that has a built-in camera, mic, Wi-Fi, and low-power Bluetooth.

I’m thinking maybe of putting it into the lid of a little wooden chest I have to make it some kind of “mother box,” something I can get artsy-craftsy with, a little burn or carve on the lid to hide the camera and mic. I’d put a lightweight vision model on it and have it react in some way to events in the room.

Maybe flash it a peace sign to get a weather report… or have the mic detect  a knock pattern to give little visual responses?

Facial recognition? Voice commands?

Seeed Studio’s SenseCraft AI platform has a bunch of pre-trained offline models (like face detection and simple object detection)

https://wiki.seeedstudio.com/sensecraft-ai/overview/

Possible display elements

Went to urgent care

No pneumonia,  get another batch for meds for cough, antibiotics,  etc.

XR CHEST 2 VWS

CLINICAL INDICATION: Productive cough, shortness of breath Dx: Acute cough;

TECHNIQUE: PA and lateral chest radiographs

COMPARISON: None

FINDINGS/IMPRESSION:

Normal cardiomediastinal contours.

Perihilar parabronchial thickening, may be seen with bronchitis or reactive airway disease.

No consolidation, pneumothorax or large pleural effusion.

No acute osseous abnormality.

He visits my town once a year. 
He fills my mouth with kisses and nectar. 
I spend all my money on him. Who, girl, your man? 
No, a mango.

Leaping and bounding he arrived and devoured all that was veiled; in an instant, he forced his way in.
Who, girl, your man? 
No, friend, a monkey.

This style is an entire genre in Hindavi literature. It is a type of folk poetry called Kah Mukarni, and involves two playful female speakers seemingly speaking about their lovers and ending in a wordplay. They’re very earthy-sounding in their folk performances and are traditionally sung by women.

I may have to go to urgent care re: covid

This little beast. I cant wait to cuddle up with her once I am sure I am not contagious.

— Scottobear (@scottobear.bsky.social) 2026-04-22T23:38:54.878Z

The cough is still here. It has moved in, unpacked, and decided it likes the place. It’s not constant, not dramatic, but it’s persistent. A reminder. Every few minutes, a little signal from the body saying, “Nope. Not done yet.”

And the test.

Still positive.

There is something uniquely deflating about seeing that line show up again. You stare at it for a second like maybe this time it’ll change its mind. Like maybe you misread it. But no. It’s steady. Certain. Uninterested in your opinion.

Day eight, and the world outside keeps moving.

Sunlight still hits the same spots on the floor. People are still going to work, walking dogs, living their lives. And you’re here in this strange in-between space. Not as sick as before, but not well either. Functional, but diminished. Present, but not fully here.

It messes with your head a little.

You start doing the math. Counting days. Measuring progress in tiny increments. “Am I better than yesterday?” Maybe. Slightly. Enough to notice, not enough to celebrate.

There’s a temptation to push through it. To declare yourself fine and just… resume. But your body isn’t subtle about its veto power. Try to do too much, and it pushes back. Hard. So you learn, reluctantly, to listen.

Rest becomes the job.

Hydrate. Sit. Breathe. Wait.

It’s not heroic. It’s not interesting. But it’s necessary.

And somewhere in all of this, there’s a small, stubborn thread of patience forming. You don’t choose it. It just sort of grows there because it has to. Because the alternative is frustration, and frustration doesn’t heal anything.

So here we are.

Day 8. Still coughing. Still tired. Still testing positive.

But also still here.

And that counts for something.

https://svonberg.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/bear73.html

https://svonberg.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/bear3.html

Ok, I’m done for now. I may add some more color variants for the bears, or maybe something else, but this was a fun goofy little exercise.

https://svonberg.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/bear2.html

Image saving does not yet work,  screen cap until implementation

11am

Today’s mood is a particularly ugly mix of anger, depression, fear and sadness.

7pm

Mood is lightening to exhaustion and simmering “pissy”

Look, there is nothing here these days but a journal.

I am seeing many, many attempts to log in, but there is nothing of interest here to anyone that isn’t me or someone who likes me, and I’m already sharing it.

If there is something specific you want to know, feel free to ask, and odds are very good I will just tell you what’s up .

COVID day 4 thoughts

Everyone else in my family group has now tested negative after several days of meds.

Not this big fella!

I am going to isolate from them so I don’t risk them reinfection, apparently cicada variant is pretty tricky.

It’s spring. The woods are waking up. And the bears, big and quiet and absolutely real, are moving through it like they always have. Following scent. Following instinct. Following the oldest rhythm there is.

Eat. Move. Live.

If you’re out there, standing on the edge of that same waking world, it might be worth remembering that you’re not the only one who’s been waiting all winter to feel the sun again.