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:
   barren refrigerator opportunity
Wednesday, January 2 2013
This morning when Gretchen took the dogs for a walk in the forest, our foster dog Dutchess (aka "Marigold") vanished. Gretchen looked for her but didn't find her and she never came back home either. So Gretchen went back to the forest and did another three mile loop on the trail system but still no Marigold. By this point she was panicking, but she also had to go to Woodstock to work at the bookstore. So I loaded up Eleanor and Ramona in the car and headed down Dug Hill Road. I thought perhaps Marigold had become confused and gone down the mountain and ended up on Canary Hill Road or perhaps Hurley Mountain Road. But I hadn't even made it down to the bus turn around before I saw Marigold trotting somewhat confusedly up a particularly steep part of Dug Hill Road. I opened the door and she jumped right in. Gretchen, who was in the shower but worried sick, was, as you might imagine, greatly relieved. Most dogs have an inherent sense of direction that would allow them to find their way out of a place they'd walked into even if they'd never been there before. Indeed, even Marigold has shown herself capable of finding her way home from half way down the Farm Road (something she did the other day after abandoning a walk I was taking the dogs on due to the cold). But Marigold seems to have a number of odd neurological issues; with some of the cats I've seen behavior that seems pathologically obsessive-compulsive, and her middle-of-the-night pacing is also unusual for a dog. I suspect that her sense of direction, her canine GPS (if you will) might also be somewhat defective.

For whatever reason, neither Gretchen nor I have been to a grocery store in weeks, and at this point it's become a game to see how long our household stores can continue to provide meals. Meanwhile, the refrigerator has become unusually barren, exposing all the patches of schmutz and glurp that really ought to be cleaned. So today, working in two different phases, I cleaned out the non-freezer part of the refrigerator. I removed all the shelves and disassembled everything that could be disassembled and scrubbed away all the spots, stains, and solidified puddles of sugary fluids.

This evening I made a sort of bean chili for dinner, partly so Gretchen would have something ready for her when she came home. But it turned out she'd eaten at the Garden Café in Woodstock and had even gotten me a carton of adzuki bean soup (my favorite!) to go.

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