I needed a quick way to make a list, and remembered Little Outliner. It still works, and works well! Thanks for a great product.

David and Champa Jarmul left yesterday for their Peace Corps service in the Republic of Moldova.

This is David's second stint as a Peace Corps volunteer. He first served in Nepal. That's where he met Champa.

David has been my friend for the last decade. We share a Peace Corps connection (I was a volunteer with my wife, Erin, in the Republic of Vanuatu), and we're both interested in science writing. David helped me get a job at Duke University, and he's been a trusted mentor. I miss him already, but am delighted he's venturing out again. I'll be reading his blog, Not Exactly Retired, to keep track. 

In April, my uncle, Larry Zuiker, took me hiking near Mesa, Arizona.

Larry is a serious hiker. He formed a group 20 years ago, called AZHIKRS, and he wrote a book about his favorite hikes in the Southeast. The day I visited him, he drove us into the Superstition Wilderness Area, readied his hiking poles and turned on his GPS unit, and led us along a stony riverbed and onto the Black Mesa Trail. The expansive desert was breathtaking, and we stopped often just to look around and see the contours of the hills. Larry had baked bread the day before, so we had hearty PB&J sandwiches when we stopped for lunch in a cool, shaded canyon. I wanted to see a rattlesnake, but none were out. The plentiful cactus, and the vistas, and the conversation along the six-mile hike made for a perfect day.

Next month, I will hike in the Parc National des Calanques along the Mediterranean near Marseilles, France. I may even wear the AZHIKRS shirt my generous uncle sent me.

It's been an intense week, with barely a moment to sit and reflect and write. So I'm hoping I can find a few hours this weekend to get caught up on my blogging.

Peace Corps is having a storytelling contest. I'm a returned Peace Corps volunteer (Republic of Vanuatu, 1997-1999), and since I'm still in my Decade of Narrative, I must enter this contest.

I will soon be traveling, with Erin, on the new Delta nonstop from RDU to Paris. Then, a TGV to Marseille, and car to Cassis. Reaching out to friends for recommendations to fill a few more nights elsewhere in Provence, and a final night in Paris.

Discovered today, too late, that UEFA EURO 2016 will have games in Marseille's Stade Vélodrome, but no tickets available.

The other night, I heard barred owls caterwauling across the street. Listen to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology recording (Pair caterwauling) of what this sounded like. 

Discovered the Netflix original series Marseille last night, and since I'll be in that city in about a month, I've started to watch.

Sunny Saturday morning in North Carolina. Anna's helping me make cedar garden boxes, and, the swimming pool at the UNC FARM opens today, so we'll be diving in soon.

Here's how I spent a glorious Spring day in New York City.

On foot

Woke up early in my small-but-tidy Yotel New York room, or cabin, as they call it. Dressed in my running clothes, and walked down to the W. 30th St. gate of the High Line, a rails-to-trails elevated urban park that I've been reading about for a decade. The gates open at 7 a.m. this time of year, and I was early, so I waited with a cortado at Think Coffee. Then I climbed the steps and walked south on the High Line, mostly alone.

I exited the High Line at its end, and continued, running south on the Hudson River Greenway and Pier 45. Snapped a photo of One World Trade Center and the Statue of Liberty. Turned back, ran to the High Line, walked to its north end at W. 34th St., then back to my hotel.

Showered, dressed, packed, checked out, stopped downstairs into the Swedish coffeeshop FIKA for  yogurt and granola and cappuccino.

Walked over to my meeting with Thinkso Creative, to discuss the publication and e-newsletter design needs for the Duke Department of Medicine, where we're drafting our next comprehensive, five-year communications plan.

Walked up 8th Ave. to Central Park. Sat in the grass near the USS Maine Monument. Temperature in the 70s, sunshine a light breeze. Could New York on a spring day be more amazing? Took a timelapse video of the walkers, bicyclists and horse-drawn carriages passing by.

At the appointed time, met Dave Winer by the monument.

Let's pedal

Dave and I had biked the American Tobacco Trail -- also a rails-to-trails project -- in North Carolina back in 2012. A few weeks ago, I'd asked if he'd have time to meet when I was in NYC, hoping he'd introduce me to the Citi Bike system of which he's such a huge proponent. Happily, he said yes.

First, Dave led me a short way into Central Park, past the sheep meadow, and we sat at the cafe for lunch and talk of politics, and 1999. Then, more strolling, to the Bethesda Fountain, over the iconic Bow Bridge, up and down the path, along the lake, Dave stopping a time or two to give directions to a stranger, or to point out a feature of the park. I don't think I said much, and I didn't snap any photos. I was stunned by the serenity of the park, and the warmth of the day, and wanted to soak it in. (The last time I was in Central Park was on a frigid day in February 2005, to see the Gates art installation.)

We were at a Citi Bike station. One minute to swipe my card, get my code, and pull out my bike. So easy. Thirty seconds more to adjust the seat, and then we were on our way, coasting down West Dr., pedaling past the Maine Monument again. At W. 59th St., Dave glanced over and asked if I was up for an adventure. Let's go. 

"We're going to ride through Times Square," he said. 

That meant riding with traffic.

Sounds dangerous as hell, I thought, but fun, too. 

Green light

Down 7th Ave., alongside yellow taxicabs and snaking through big tour buses, stopping at red lights, into the maelstrom of Times Square. I've walked there amid the throngs of people on previous visits, but it was exhilarating to be on wheels in the heart of it all, rolling through the artery. I was super alert, trying not to get killed, and having a grand time.

We continued south, and east, over to Midtown East. Our 30 minutes up, we returned the bikes to a Citi Bike station, and walked over to the 2nd Ave. Deli for dinner. For me, matzo ball soup, baked knish, fresh lemonade. Delicious. For dessert, a shared plate of blintzes and rugalech.

Dinner over, Dave planned our walk up and over past the Empire State Building, to the subway. Said thank you, goodbye, and thank you again, and I was on my way back to JFK Airport, and home to North Carolina.

Winning the lottery

Earlier that morning, I'd entered my name in the Hamilton ticket lottery, hoping I'd luck out and get to catch the smash musical from the first row. Dave and I were enjoying our lunch when the 4 o'clock drawing came round, but I didn't get the your-ticket's-waiting message. No matter.

When I finally stepped into my quiet home back in small-town Carrboro, at midnight, I was feeling damn fortunate.

I'd spent a beautiful, full day in a great American city. I walked, ran, biked, ate, listened, talked and rode through it, with a generous and knowledgable guide.

I won. What an immensely enjoyable day that was.

I'm confused about 1999 version numbers, and will have to ask the server list. I'd like to be sure I'm running the latest editor. I think my server should update automatically.

My browser menubar is currently reporting v0.93q and v0.89r. (Dave responded on the server list that the numbers toggle between the server version and the editor version.)

I see that the version for nodeStorage is close to the version in my window. My server should automatically update, so I'll need to figure out why I'm not in sync. Probably need to reload the editor.

Here's where I'm looking for answers:

• nodeStorage - currently shows 0.94 for storage.js
• 1999-project - currently shows 0.51
• 1999app - April 16 update mentions 0.40a

UPDATE 5/30/2016: Dave's post about a new feature for 1999, month archives, mentions the editor version is now v0.89r, and server has been updated to v0.94s. My 1999 editor is showing v0.89r, so that's good, but it's also showing v0.93q, so that means my server has not been updated yet. 

A couple of months ago, Dave Winer brought out 1999.io, a new blogging system. 

As I've chronicled for more than a decade (and noted on my about page), I read Dave's Scripting News daily, and I attempt to follow and implement most of his software. For example, I'm running River5 for the Duke River. 

I'm loyal to Textpattern as my blog CMS, but 1999 promised to be just the simple, let-the-ideas flow writing tool I have needed (I was on a blogging and social media sabbatical for two years, started blogging again last November, but am struggling to get writing). 

When I set up 1999 on my own server last month, I quickly discovered that 1999 helped me get over the hurdle.

1. My first story on 1999 reflected my return from the family's annual spring break trip to St. Croix.
2. In another post, I shared my first impressions of 1999. And I noted the immediacy of corrections. I found it super easy to add an enclosure, making my 1999 blog a podcast, too.
3. Then, in a series of stories, I took notes during sessions at the AAMC GIA professional development conference. The session on GME alumni was especially enlightening and pertinent to my main (Duke) work project.
4. And yesterday I spent the day in New York City, and look at the blog post I just wrote in 1999: My visit to New York City.

I'm really liking 1999, and I'm really liking blogging again. 

Though it's cool and overcast this afternoon, the garage door at the new Cocoa Cinnamon coffeeshop on Hillsborough Road has gone up, letting in the fresh air. Nearly two dozen students and others are here, peering into their laptops, quizzing each other on infectious diseases and their treatments, and even reading books.

I came here for a cortado and a chance to write a few blog posts, wanted to write a story about the many coffeeshops I've visited across the country over the last couple of years. My notes are on another laptop, so will have to work on that tonight.

Wendell Berry, farmer writer and philosopher, interviewed in the Fall 2015 issue of Modern Farmer:

People who talk for pleasure, as opposed to people who talk to communicate, become wonderful talkers over the years. They have eloquence. That whole thing of looking somebody straight in the eye and saying something—my goodness. What a fine thing. Who would want to miss it?

I loved this quote. But I can't figure out why Modern Farmer edited it one way for the print issue (as above), and another way for the online version. Sure, edited for space, but look at what they edited out for the print version:

That whole thing of looking somebody straight in the eye and saying something—my goodness. 'I love you,' right into somebody’s face, right into their eyes, what a fine thing. Who would want to miss it?