My husband is a busy man.
By day he's a mild-mannered software developer working for a startup. At night, he is a member of the core team on a successful open source project. When he's not travelling to NYC for his day job, Kris is working from our home, picking up the kids from school, organizing meetups, or travellling to speak at meetups or conferences.
Sometimes, his open source colleagues come to stay with us so that they can work together late into the nights.
So when my husband told me that he wanted to take down my blog and rebuild it in something called "Ghost", I knew I was in for a wait.
In the early years of our marriage, I was jealous of Kris' computer. I resented the hours he spent working, and I complained loudly to the back of his head every night before I went off to bed alone.
Over time I have come to see that Kris is one of those rare people who has found his place in the world. Found his place, and is satisfied and successful in ways that I can only admire.
Recently, we were discssing his work while hanging out at our favorite coffee shop with the kids. "No developer wants to work on old platforms," he said.
"All the developers at my company are on ancient platforms," I noted absently.
The tone of Kris' voice changed.
"There are no developers like me at your company."
This gave me a little shiver. For a moment, I saw Kris as a person just meeting him might see him. How had I not noticed this matter-of-fact confidence? It was.. very attractive.
Now it's late. The kids are asleep, and I'm sitting beside my husband. Each of us staring into a laptop, working in companionable quiet. I'm writing my first post in my new Ghost-powered blog, and thinking of how lucky I am to have such a man supporting my writing.