Will I escape the Resharper tax even after the biz start up discount? I don't know as VS 2013 seems to have a lot of goodies thrown in by way of navigating code. Codelens (thanks Bizspark for ultimate), Peek Definition ( Alt F12 + Shift Esc and no more drill down -lose context yay!), send feedback, Quick Launch. Scroll Bar is now a polymorphic beast in Bar Mode and Map Mode.
Now showing Bookmarks, debug breaks, edits (saved unsaved, code breaks) and find replace occurrences! The video was slow to start, but picks up showing off the cooler things. I will drink more of the Kool Aid tomorrow, time to let the blessed barrier between day and day knit the unravelled sleeve of care. Wait did I remember that right? Nay, my bing-fu declares me drunk. mixing up poets and not wordsworthy:
FOND words have oft been spoken to thee, Sleep!
And thou hast had thy store of tenderest names;
The very sweetest, Fancy culls or frames,
When thankfulness of heart is strong and deep!
Dear Bosom-child we call thee, that dost steep
In rich reward all suffering; Balm that tames
All anguish; Saint that evil thoughts and aims
Takest away, and into souls dost creep,
Like to a breeze from heaven. Shall I alone,
I surely not a man ungently made,
Call thee worst Tyrant by which Flesh is crost?
Perverse, self-willed to own and to disown,
Mere slave of them who never for thee prayed,
Still last to come where thou art wanted most!
and no spears shaking as well:
Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast....
Now showing Bookmarks, debug breaks, edits (saved unsaved, code breaks) and find replace occurrences! The video was slow to start, but picks up showing off the cooler things. I will drink more of the Kool Aid tomorrow, time to let the blessed barrier between day and day knit the unravelled sleeve of care. Wait did I remember that right? Nay, my bing-fu declares me drunk. mixing up poets and not wordsworthy:
FOND words have oft been spoken to thee, Sleep!
And thou hast had thy store of tenderest names;
The very sweetest, Fancy culls or frames,
When thankfulness of heart is strong and deep!
Dear Bosom-child we call thee, that dost steep
In rich reward all suffering; Balm that tames
All anguish; Saint that evil thoughts and aims
Takest away, and into souls dost creep,
Like to a breeze from heaven. Shall I alone,
I surely not a man ungently made,
Call thee worst Tyrant by which Flesh is crost?
Perverse, self-willed to own and to disown,
Mere slave of them who never for thee prayed,
Still last to come where thou art wanted most!
and no spears shaking as well:
Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast....
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