A software engineer keeping a small notebook on the internet.

If you got here from one of my apps — welcome. There isn't much to sell you. This is a quiet corner of the internet where I write the occasional note, list things I've made, and try to remember what year it is.

I've been writing software for a bit over a decade. The bit I enjoy most is the slow, careful kind of engineering: small, sturdy data models, fast pages, code that's kind to whoever reads it next. I get suspicious of clever, and very fond of boring.

For the day job I lead engineering teams — Flicket now, and Reveal, Timely and Xero before that. The work I keep ending up on is the revenue plumbing: billing rebuilds, payments platforms, the bits a business actually runs on. I lean on principles over rules, high trust over choreography, and the slow compounding of good small decisions.

Off the keyboard, you'll find me chasing kids around the paddocks at Beacon Hill — my parents' estate, where the family runs country markets, a yak herd that doesn't take orders, and a small mob of deer that mostly does. I patch fences badly, get told off by the chickens, and pitch in on market days. Living rurally has made me a better engineer — most of the world isn't on gigabit fibre, and software gets gentler when you remember that.