Hermes Household AI
What this is
Section titled “What this is”I run a household of four and a dog, and the load is not the big things — it is the small ones. Appointment times. School notices. Forms with deadlines. Deliveries. The weekly shop. A prescription that needs chasing. None of it is hard. All of it is constant, and all of it slips.
So I built an agent that handles it. It runs on a small computer at home, has its own identity, and the household talks to it in a normal messaging thread. It reads my email, keeps the family calendar true, tracks what is in flight, and tells me what changed overnight.
This is the blueprint. Not the source code — the decisions, the order I did them in, and the mistakes. It is written for someone technically curious but not an engineer, and it is written to be followed, step by step, in ten steps.
| Ten steps | From a blank computer to a working household agent |
| Roughly a weekend | To get it answering. Months to get it good |
| No cloud application | It runs on a machine you own |
| One non-negotiable | It never acts as you. It drafts, you send |
What it does
Section titled “What it does”Not a feature list. The actual work, and what it needs underneath.
| The work | How it reaches me | What it needs |
|---|---|---|
| Reads my email and turns the actionable parts into tasks | A task appears, or a morning summary | Its own mailbox, read access |
| Handles school notices — dates onto the calendar, reminders created | A short daily digest | Its own mailbox, calendar write |
| Keeps the family calendar true and flags clashes | A message, before it becomes a problem | Calendar read and write |
| Chases things in flight — deliveries, bookings, forms, fares | A message when something changes | Its own mailbox, scheduled jobs |
| Builds the weekly grocery list, and fills the online cart for me to confirm | A list I review, a cart I check out | A shared list, a browser |
| Watches recurring purchases and tells me when to reorder | A message on the right day | Purchase history, a scheduled job |
| Runs the logistics of an upcoming trip | Itinerary, costs, tasks, reminders | Email, calendar, a task list |
| Prepares forms and replies for me | A draft in my mailbox | Draft permission only |
| Reports the day before I wake up | One summary at 5am | Everything above |
The ten steps
Section titled “The ten steps”I dug into the order because the order is the part nobody writes down. You cannot set permissions before you have an identity. You cannot connect tools before you have a machine.
| # | Step | Part |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | Name it, and give it a voice | An Identity |
| 2 | Create accounts that belong to it, not to you | An Identity |
| 3 | Set up the computer it lives on | A Machine |
| 4 | Connect calendars, reminders and contacts | Its Tools |
| 5 | Connect email and tasks | Its Tools |
| 6 | Set the permission layers | Permissions |
| 7 | Write the job description | The Job |
| 8 | Connect the channels the household uses | Conversation |
| 9 | Give it memory — and a wiki you can read | Memory |
| 10 | Set up backups and watchdogs | Honesty |
Two things worth knowing up front
Section titled “Two things worth knowing up front”The last ten percent takes eighty percent of the time. Getting an agent to answer a question is a weekend. Getting it to behave well around a real family — not too talkative, correct about the details that matter — takes months of tuning. Plan for that, because it is the actual project.
What it cannot do matters more than what it can. Mine can never send email as me, never spend money, never invent a fact about my household, and never reach outside its own lane. Those four rules are in The Rules It Cannot Break, and they are why I am comfortable leaving it running.