quite.space · ✦ · ╭────────────────────╮ · ✦
✦ · · │ 1 . 0 . 0 · beta │ · ·
· ✦ ╰────────────────────╯ ✦ ·The number changed by a whole digit, so the first thing to say is what it buys you — and it is not polish.
Everything this build writes, every later 1.x will open. Your log, your backup, the passes you minted, the bundles you carried on a stick, the certificates that admit your devices. There is no server here to migrate you, which means a format is a promise or it is a trap: a log written today is opened by a build shipped in two years, on a device that never spoke to us in between, possibly carried there by a stranger over a radio. From this release on, that is a commitment rather than an intention — ninety signed schemas, the envelope, the on-disk layout, the backup container, the relay’s wire, the radio profile.
And what is not frozen is written down just as plainly, because a promise with a vague edge gets quietly reinterpreted later: the local HTTP API (it is this build’s own way of talking to its own interface, on loopback, behind a token — it was never a public API), the interface itself, the projections your device computes for its own use, and the things that can always be fetched again — map tiles, link previews. The rule underneath: what travels between devices or survives a restart is frozen; what a device decides for itself is free. It is all in ADR-033.
The beta is not a hedge on any of that. The formats are frozen today. What “beta” marks is the reach of our evidence: this is proven by construction — tests, measurements, live stands — and by daily use on our own devices, but not yet by a lot of strangers on hardware we have never seen. That is a real difference, and it belongs in the name.
Since 0.1.7, a space also became somewhere work can live.
🔧 Things with a history. A machine, a board, a pump — each is an object with revisions, tasks and observations, and the record of what happened to it stays with it. Chat can point at an object, so “the bandsaw” in a conversation is the same bandsaw with the same history. → objects
🎛 Works, versions, and notes on a timecode. Releases hold tracks, tracks hold sessions; every mix you upload is a version that supersedes the last one without erasing it, ★ marks what you are listening to now, and a note can sit at 2:14 rather than merely near it.
🧭 A field, and a map of claims. Places and sectors, routes, markers, check-ins — and positions that age honestly in front of you: live, then stale, then unknown, because the alternative is a map that says somebody is somewhere when all anyone holds is a statement from forty minutes ago. Sharing your position is an explicit act with a signed expiry, and the switch says exactly what it does. An SOS travels on its own lane. → field
Every field event fits a single LoRa frame — not by assumption but by measurement: the bound on a route’s length is whatever a real Field-authored revision actually fits, and a test pins the constant so that when they disagree, the constant loses.
🗺 Real maps under it, offline-first. OpenStreetMap, restyled to the dark, cached encrypted on your device so the places you have looked at keep working with no network at all. It is off by default and the switch tells you why: fetching tiles tells a server which part of the world is on your screen. Your connectivity choice outranks it — offline means offline, and the map falls back to its own paper rather than to a spinner.
🌱 A sensor can speak in public. Instruments already joined private spaces in 0.1.7; now a greenhouse can publish to a broadcast space, where readings travel in the open like everything else there — bound as an attested writer before its first frame, and honestly badged when it is a simulation.
🔔 And a sleeping phone can be woken by a relay that knows only that something arrived, never what.
The edges we know about are still named in the README: LoRa is proven on two boards and still young, there is no general multi-hop mesh, and the desktop builds are signed by no authority. Those are product edges. They are not reservations on anything above.
🐛 Broken, or claiming more than it can prove? → Field notes.