Updated 13 August 2026

Where this stands

An honest account of what's built, what isn't, what I know how to do, and what I'm working out as I go.

What I'm actually doing

Building software for the businesses in this town, giving it away, and selling it to other towns later.

Small businesses here run on paper calendars, handwritten guest checks, and asking on Facebook when you need a plumber. Not because anybody's behind, but because the software built for this was really built for companies a thousand times the size, priced accordingly, and needs a training session nobody has time for.

The reason it can be free here is boring and it's the whole trick: AI writes most of the code now, and my entire operating cost is about $41 a month. Software that would once have taken a team a year takes me a few weeks. Nobody has passed that saving along yet, because everybody is still charging what software used to cost.

So: the businesses here get it free, permanently, and help me find everything wrong with it. Then I sell it to other small towns, and the businesses that helped build it share in that.

You're not my customer

I want to be direct about this, because if we don't name it we'll both default to a script that doesn't fit.

You're not paying me, so you can't make demands of me. And I'm not paying you, so I can't make demands of you either. Nobody is doing anybody a favour.

What that means in practice, in both directions:

Please don't spare my feelings

The single most valuable thing you can give me is telling me something is bad. "My servers hated it." "This is slower than the paper pad." "I tried it twice and went back to the old way." That's not criticism, it's the entire point — I can't see what's wrong from where I'm standing, and a polite "it's nice!" costs me weeks.

If you'd feel rude saying it out loud, say it in an email. I would genuinely rather hear it badly than not hear it.

And I'm not staff

This isn't a product with a support contract. If something breaks I'll fix it as fast as I can, and sometimes that's the same day and sometimes it's next week. If you need it to be someone's job to answer at 2am, you need a company with staff, and I'd tell you that honestly rather than pretend.

The short version: I give working software, free and permanently. You use it for real and tell me the truth about it. That's a trade, and it only works if both halves are real.

What's actually built

Everything below is live right now and you can open any of it on your phone.

Working
Main Street — the directory Local trades and services, free to be listed and free to use. No cut of anybody's work. mainstreet.ripieno.org
Working
The Noticeboard Events, notices, lost and found. Things stay where you put them and stay searchable, which is the bit Facebook is bad at. parlando.ripieno.org
Working
Coda — guest checks Electronic tickets for restaurants. Open checks all visible at once, totals do themselves, and a clean check to hand the customer. Works with no signal. coda.ripieno.org
Demo only
Glissando — booking Customers book online, you get a text with tomorrow's jobs. What's live is a demonstration with a made-up plumber; the real version gets built when a real business wants it. glissando.ripieno.org
Not started
Farms to kitchens Local farms selling direct to local restaurants. Deliberately last, because it needs farms and restaurants both signed up before it's worth anything to either.

What's missing or broken

This list is the honest one. If it were shorter I'd be hiding something.

What I know how to do, and what I don't

What I'm good at

I've built software for businesses for thirty years — manufacturing, healthcare, billing, the unglamorous internal systems companies actually run on. I know how to make something reliable, how to keep data safe, and how to build fast enough that changing my mind is cheap. If you tell me something's wrong, fixing it is usually the easy part.

What I'm figuring out as I go

I've never run my own business. I've built them for other people my whole career and never had to make one work myself. Pricing, when to say no, how much of my time this is worth, whether any of this is a business at all — I'm genuinely learning that part, and the people helping me are all better at it than I am.

I also don't know whether servers will actually use a phone instead of a pad when it's busy, whether anyone will look at a directory once it's full, or whether people will bother emailing me a notice. Those are guesses. Some of them are probably wrong, and the fastest way to find out which is to put it in front of you.

The thing I'd most like you to know: if you think one of these ideas is a bad idea, that is enormously useful information and I would like to have it early. A dead end found in six weeks costs me nothing. Found in a year, it costs a year.

What I'm asking of you

All of it is small, and none of it has a deadline.

When somebody joins in I'd like to say so on this page — it's how the next person finds out this is real and not one bloke talking to himself, and being named locally is worth something. Only if you want it. Say the word and you're in with no mention anywhere, and that's a completely normal thing to prefer.

What I'm not asking: money, a commitment, exclusivity, or that you stop using whatever you use now. If it isn't better than what you've got, keep what you've got and tell me why.

The money part

Nothing here is settled and I'll put the real terms in writing before anyone signs anything. But the shape I intend, plainly:

Free here, permanently

Not a trial, not an introductory rate, not free-until-I-change-my-mind. Businesses in this town don't pay for these apps, and that survives whatever happens to the rest of it. It costs me almost nothing to honour, which is the only reason I can promise it.

Sold elsewhere

Other small towns have the same problems and no local person building for them. That's where the money would come from, and it's a long way off.

The businesses who helped, share in that

A defined percentage of what these apps earn outside this county, split evenly between the businesses who helped make them work. In writing, with real numbers, before anyone commits to anything.

And it ends on purpose

The share pays out until it reaches an agreed figure and then it stops, and everyone knows that number going in. A season with a harvest, not an arrangement nobody remembers agreeing to that turns awkward in five years.

To be clear about the odds: this may well never earn anything. I'm not risking much — the whole operation costs $41 a month — and I'm not asking you to risk anything either. If it goes nowhere you keep the software and I've lost some time. That's the actual downside, stated honestly.

The other thing I'm doing, and why I'm telling you

I run a separate business called Binary Blender — software and consulting, aimed at companies, nothing to do with this town. It's how I'd eventually make a living.

One of my reasons for building all this is that it makes that business look good. "He built the software his whole town runs on" is a far better argument than anything I could put on a website. That's a real motive and you should know about it rather than find out later.

Two things follow from it, stated plainly:

Why I'm still not worried about it being abandoned

Not because I'm promising I won't get busy. Two actual reasons:

An abandoned version of this is worse than useless to me. "I built the software my town runs on" is a good story. "I started building software for my town and dropped it when something better came along" is a bad one, and it's worse for the business than never having started. The thing I want out of this only exists if it gets finished.

And I live here. I'll be seeing you at the grocery store for the next twenty years. That's a stronger guarantee than any contract I could write, and it cuts in a direction that suits you.

I'd also say I hate leaving things unfinished, which is true — but don't give that any weight. Everyone says that, it can't be checked, and it's exactly what somebody about to abandon something would also tell you. The two reasons above are the ones you can rely on, because they hold whether or not I'm feeling strong that week.

And the part that isn't about me at all: none of this needs my attention to keep working. The directory is a set of files on a server that will sit there indefinitely. Coda runs entirely on your own phone — there's no service behind it that can be switched off. If I vanished for a month, everything you're using would carry on exactly as it does now.

That isn't a promise. It's how it was built, and it was built that way on purpose.

What's happened lately

Newest first — what's been built, what broke, and who's joined in. Worth a look now and then.

13 August 2026 · Joined

Main Street Software

Mine, and first on purpose — a directory whose owner won't put himself in it is asking for a trust nobody extended. Websites, online booking, and getting a business un-stuck from whatever the computer is doing.

13 August 2026

The noticeboard went up, and this page with it. Coda can now run a separate copy per restaurant with their own menu on their own web address. Next: getting a real menu into it and finding out how badly it does during service.

12 August 2026

Coda — the guest check app — built and working. Open checks, running totals, and a clean screen to hand the customer at the end. Not a till: no card payments, no kitchen printer, on purpose.

11 August 2026

The directory and the booking demo went live. First listing added, which is mine, because a directory whose owner won't be in it is asking for a trust nobody extended.