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").



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decay & ruin
Biosphere II
Chernobyl
dead malls
Detroit
Irving housing

got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

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Like my brownhouse:
   every hour to myself
Thursday, May 23 2013
There was a lot of rain today, though perhaps not yet enough to make up for a lingering springtime deficit. This spring has been both cooler and dryer than normal.
Ramona was being a bit of a goof this afternoon, so I took her for a walk during a brief break in the rain. When I returned, Sarah the vegan had arrived to pick up a pair of shoes Gretchen was lending her. I like Sarah the vegan a lot, but she has a problem figuring out when might be a good time to end a social interaction. She ended up spending 45 minutes or more hanging out with me and the critters, and most of our conversation was about how cute the various animals are as they paraded through, snuggled, or (in Ramona's case) became overly frisky. In an effort to drive out the chill, I kept feeding paper-based trash into the stove, and the resulting warmth drew Sylvia the cat in addition to the usual household socialites (the dogs Ramona and Eleanor, and Clarence the cat). I offered to make some tea but whenever I went through such hostly rituals, she acted like she was about to leave. Yet she kept not leaving. Normally this isn't a problem; Gretchen is around and she's more social than I am. But when I'm here at the house by myself, every hour of free time is precious and I want as many of them for myself as I can get, unless, that is, I've made plans to spend them some other way.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?130523

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