5 The Name
For a month, give or take, it was called check.py:
It was what the thing did, and the one who said it was I.
It was what the thing did, and the one who said it was I.
Then came notes-check: more accurate, no better a name.
Then a folder with four files inside. And the same
Had befallen my notes: shoebox, spreadsheet, script, each outgrown;
But this was the first one to need a name of its own.
Then a folder with four files inside. And the same
Had befallen my notes: shoebox, spreadsheet, script, each outgrown;
But this was the first one to need a name of its own.
It needed one, since it was about to be a repo: at night
I made changes I couldn’t undo in the morning light.
You can call a directory anything. Not anymore:
You can’t call a repository “the thing for chapter four”.
I made changes I couldn’t undo in the morning light.
You can call a directory anything. Not anymore:
You can’t call a repository “the thing for chapter four”.
So an evening for names: with a pencil I penned,
Till by midnight a page of them ran to its end.
Most were puns. Punctuation rewards them, and shouldn’t. One drew
On the word colon; that one I hadn’t thought through.
Till by midnight a page of them ran to its end.
Most were puns. Punctuation rewards them, and shouldn’t. One drew
On the word colon; that one I hadn’t thought through.
None of them was a name: they were jokes, which I’d have to explain
Every time that I typed one. I kept going, again and again,
Which is how it gets late. And the last line had come
At ten to two: quire, the folded gathering of pages a book is sewn from.
Every time that I typed one. I kept going, again and again,
Which is how it gets late. And the last line had come
At ten to two: quire, the folded gathering of pages a book is sewn from.
At two, meaning something else, I went off to a chat,
And I typed “quire”. Otto finished it, “quirework”, like that.
And I typed “quire”. Otto finished it, “quirework”, like that.
For a year I told people Otto named it.
Then I found the page.
Then I found the page.
For a while I just looked at the word. Not a pun.
It sounded already made: an old word, not a new one.
But as far as I could find, it didn’t exist. I checked the name.
I liked it better than anything on the page.
It sounded already made: an old word, not a new one.
But as far as I could find, it didn’t exist. I checked the name.
I liked it better than anything on the page.
What I’d meant to ask Otto, I don’t recall, though.
That night, before I could think better and say no,
I made the repository. The first commit message was Name it.
I’ve written better commit messages since. Not many, I’ll admit.
That night, before I could think better and say no,
I made the repository. The first commit message was Name it.
I’ve written better commit messages since. Not many, I’ll admit.
In the morning, a README: without one, repos look forsaken;
And a version: without one, a tool looks a script. Zero point one was taken,
Which promises nothing. The README ran a page, and no more:
The shortest it ever would be. And chapter four
Hadn’t changed in weeks. It had never been that consistent before.
And a version: without one, a tool looks a script. Zero point one was taken,
Which promises nothing. The README ran a page, and no more:
The shortest it ever would be. And chapter four
Hadn’t changed in weeks. It had never been that consistent before.
That week it was no longer a script: name, repo, README, version. That was it:
A tool. I was the only person who had ever used it.
A tool. I was the only person who had ever used it.