The week we moved our own deadline

We said appkeep opens to homeowners end of June. End of June came, and we did not open.

So this is the entry where we say that plainly, because a build log that skips the uncomfortable week is not a build log. The opening moved to mid-July. Not because anything broke, but because the parts you would touch first were not yet things we would stake your trust on, and we would rather be late than be careless with the first people who trusted us with a record of their house.

Here is what the week went into instead.

The plan learned to bend. Until now, appkeep put a job in a year and that was that — the boiler says 2028, good luck. But you know things the model does not: the renovation you are saving toward, the year the kitchen happens anyway, the winter you would rather not have scaffolding up. So now you can move a job to the year you will actually do it, and the plan re-draws around your decision instead of arguing with it. The numbers follow you, not the other way round.

And you can now see what appkeep assumed. When you register your house, the plan starts from assumptions: what the walls are made of, roughly when the roof went on. Those assumptions were always there; now they have a surface. You can look at each one, confirm it, correct it, or remove it, and the plan recomputes from what you actually know. A tool that holds a record of your home has to be able to take a correction without sulking.

The rest of the week was the invisible kind again: log rotation, disk caps, the plumbing that keeps a small machine healthy for years. Nothing you will ever see, which by now you know is a theme.

A date is a promise to strangers. The record of your house is a promise to you. The two collided this month, and we kept the second one. Mid-July.