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:
   last of the asphalt chunks
Monday, May 2 2005
I made a few final edits to my stone retaining wall today and then continued with the backfilling, eventually burying the last of the pieces of asphalt removed from the earlier path and driveway parts of the project. Asphalt chunks seem to make for be a good fill material since it's relatively inert, lies flat, yet conceals many voids, thus aiding drainage.
Much like the occupation of Iraq, my spring ditch/drainage/sidewalk/retaining wall project has been "hard work" and, just like our boys in uniform, every evening I need a hot soak in the tub as a reward for my strained muscles. And like our ribbon-supported foot soldiers sleeping in desert tents, every night when I climb into bed I find myself lying on sand and tiny bits of pulverized rock scattered across the sheets. I assume this is because that's what's all over the front yard and the dogs don't bother to wipe their feet when they come in. The big difference between my spring project and America's project to secure its oil supply is that mine will be over in a week or so and then I'll be able to grow fat and soft once more, at least to the extent that I am capable.

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