Thirty-plus years of infrastructure engineering taught me what careless changes do to live systems. So before AI wrote a line of code here, I wrote the rules it works under. Every project in the portfolio (SouthpawStrings, desk-engine, the AI Orchestrator and this site) is delivered the same way. AI agents, which are AI tools that can read and change code themselves, draft, investigate and write code quickly. I review, approve and take responsibility for every step that matters. These rules are written down inside each project’s code repository. That way every agent, and every future session, follows my rules instead of making up its own.
I write the documentation while the work happens, not afterwards. Every release gets a new version number and a changelog entry (a dated note of what changed). Each working session ends with a written checkpoint: what changed, what was decided and why, what is still open, and the exact next command. The next session, human or AI, picks up from there instead of guessing. Decisions are recorded with their reasons. Half the changelog entries in these repositories read like short write-ups of what went wrong and what I learned, because that is what they are.
Step by step
The same seven steps for every project
Websites, code libraries, the AI Orchestrator and the PowerShell automation all follow the same seven steps. The tools change with the technology. The order and the checks do not.
How releases go live
Nothing goes live by hand
AI, in practice
AI drafts. A person decides.
I keep the AI side deliberately boring. Agents do the long, careful work: reading whole codebases, moving pages to new code, tracking down a timing fault in how the web server looked up network names. Every step that can’t be undone comes through me. Uploading code and deploying to the live service need explicit confirmation in the session. A scan for passwords and keys checks every upload, and scripts with built-in checks make the safe way the easy way. I don’t trust AI output until it has been checked, limited and tested in the real environment. That doubt is a working part of the process here, not a slogan.
The speed is real, but it comes from the discipline. It doesn’t replace it. I rebuilt this site for version 1.0.0 in a single working day: moving the content, the desktop-style interface, the packaging, and the step-by-step switch-over. That was possible because years of groundwork already existed. There were standards to follow, earlier projects to copy from, checkpoints to resume from, and an engineer who knew exactly what “done and verified” had to mean. The AI Orchestrator turns the same idea into a product: my approval steps and evidence records, built into software instead of relying on willpower.
When something breaks anyway, the lesson becomes a standard. An hour-long outage happened because the web server (nginx) looked up another service’s address only when it loaded its settings. That became a written pattern every web server setup here now follows. A build server quietly filling up with leftover build files became a “clean as you check” rule: every build script clears old files each time it checks for space. The process gains a new rule every time reality wins an argument.
Documentation
Written to an aviation standard
My technical documentation follows a house standard based on ASD-STE100 Simplified Technical English. This is the controlled, deliberately limited English the aerospace industry uses for aircraft maintenance manuals. Aviation writes instructions for people working under pressure, often in a second language, where a misread step has consequences. A tired engineer reading a runbook (a step-by-step guide to running a system) during an outage is the same kind of reader.
In practice that means short sentences, one instruction per sentence, the action word first, warnings before the step they apply to, and one word for one thing. I pair it with Orwell’s six rules for plain English. When the two disagree, the answer is simple. In anything that could destroy data or take a live service down, the strict rules win. Everywhere else, the clearer sentence wins.
The standard covers runbooks, system design documents and operating guides. Pages written for people, like this one, keep a human voice.
What stays private
Only reviewed material is public
Everything on this site has been reviewed for public release. The live services, source code, admin consoles, operating guides and deployment records are all private. Public pages contain no server names, network addresses, access details, operating commands or passwords. Each public document is checked for these before it is published. Operating documentation is private by default. The public summaries are written separately, not cut down from the private ones.