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:
   grab me by the ankles and hurl
Monday, February 4 2008
Gretchen recovered enough from her illness this morning to go to work, and though Sarah the Korean never recovered enough to drink her morning coffee, she was able to eat a few saltine crackers and continue her travels into Massachusetts (she'd started from her place down in Brooklyn).
It was left to me to walk Sally in the forest, where parts of the trail had become treacherous due to thick accumulations of sleet that had frozen into a hard, slippery patches. Our neighbor Tom has been skiing the trails lately and I found myself following the tracks he'd left. I quickly learned to tread carefully in the places where I saw evidence that he'd gone downhill in steps, his skis kept parallel to the contour. In such places the surface seemed to want to grab me by the ankles and hurl me.

This evening I introduced Gretchen to the Stone Age concept of sleeping with a fire-heated rock. She was so impressed by the results that she inspired me to take a rock to bed with me too (I slept upstairs and she slept downstairs). In the middle of the night I awoke to find Julius the Cat (aka Stripey) firmly planted atop the rock I'd taken to bed. [Wrapped in blankets and insulated from beneath by the mattress, that rock ended up retaining detectable heat for twenty hours, going on to serve as a heat-producing substrate for the Baby (aka Marie) all of Super Tuesday.]

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