Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.


Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").


decay & ruin
Biosphere II
dead malls
Irving housing

got that wrong

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff

(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   training wild grapes
Sunday, August 1 2004

At noon we hosted a lunch at our house for Mary Purdy and Katie, the two women Gretchen has been reliably hanging out with since her Oberlin days. We ate it out on the south deck, which is where we always eat when we eat outside, since it prominently features an outdoor dining table and a set of well-padded chairs that are almost never wet, no matter how much rain has just fallen. As the conversation wandered off into the realm of things that only they talk about, I went inside and began cleaning up the kitchen, which was a disaster. I hadn't done any of the cooking, of course.
While the ladies went off to swim at the new secret spot on the Esopus, I took a prolonged nap. When I finally got out of bed it was just me and Gretchen again, and Gretchen was all wrapped up in meaningless television, the way she usually caps off a weekend of socializing. I went outside and noticed a complex of grapevines were encroaching on the yard from the top of the steps that lead down to the beginning of the Stick Trail. It suddenly occurred to me that I could use them to form something of a wild grape arbor. All I'd need to do would be to put some string between two trees and train the vines to one end.
I also transplanted a Tuliptree seedling from the Stick Trail steps out into the unmowed part of the yard. I almost never see Tuliptree at this latitude and whenever I do I am reminded of my Central Appalachians childhood. Hopefully the tree will do well where I planted it. Tuliptree grows quickly and is the tallest species of tree in Eastern North America.

At around sundown a cloudburst took place. I've never seen water rushing off the roof of our house like it did today. Despite the deluge, the Chamomile remains dry.

A hummingbird perched on the end of a dead White Pine branch, viewed through a window screen.

A borer beetle that Lulu was harassing.

Julius in front of the Honda Civic.


Julius contemplating Lulu and vice versa. Click to enlarge.

Lulu in one of her favorite places at the front door. Click to enlarge.

They all don't quite get along yet, but here they are all in one room, everyone except Sally. On the ottoman is Lulu. On the carpet are Eleanor and tiny Julius. In the foreground is Clarence.

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