yes, i have always liked sad sad songs...

I'm happy when it rains

I prefer bad weather when I am working. And in this last day of working on the M18 deliverable of our EU project, I need bad weather more than ever. It somehow feels cosy and nice to stay indoors and forget the world as I write, write, write.
Currently, I am defining inlining that is inheritance-sensitive. It is really rather hard to put down as all operations are on bytecode, so a simple example would take a whole page.
I also -for the first time in my research life- am dreaming of getting "famous" as the first person that has proven inlining correct. So much work for such an insignificant result really. But who knows, maybe the exceptions part will create some more interesting results. Who knows.. As nobody has done it before.
Yes I feel all so productive and important and so on.. But I need to be a human as well at some point. Get fresh air, move my body somehow. With my pace of doing things, it does not feel possible.
Remaining issues: Semantics of ghost variables, correctness proofs, placing EXCEPTIONAL annotations, and correcting the symbolic automaton definition. All for tomorrow 10.

Dresden

(Katrin with Levin)

I have really seen the most beautiful things in Dresden. Frauenkirche would never qualify to compete with such a happy family. I have excluded B from the picture, he was busy cooking us levrek in the east of east germany. I didn't know what to think going to his flat. What do you feel after 3 years? Related, indifferent? In the end, I would have liked to spend more time with them. More time throwing Levin in the air like a big ball and more time talking in Turkish with Katrin. But when I think of B, I just see the past now. I see how I have changed with him, how he made me a happy and all the things that we did together. The happy times. But I do not necessarily see him or myself for that matter.
Levin wanting to play with my phone... Really what can be more joyous than that?

The flowers in the Kwak glass

I received a card from Uganda in my absence. Agneta: as dear to my heart as my own mother. She, who had placed the glass beside the window, and brought me the 50 roses all the way from Africa. She being one of the most perceptive and open people I have ever met gave him this gift and gives me strength and hope and affection. It is never late for finding a mother.