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:
   anti-funk jihad
Friday, August 2 2013
This weekend our house would be overrun by two different couples, each with four young children (mercifully, none of them babies of dubious adorability). So today was a cleaning jihad day, and that would extend to the outdoors. The day before yesterday I'd mowed the part of lawn nearest the house because I'd wanted to install the screen tent (our new insect-free outdoor space). Today I finished the lawn mowing and then went around with the weed whacker, chewing up the pulpy masses of weeds that this rainy summer has produced. At times the I found myself being spattered by the wet juice of the whipped-down lushness.
After I was done with the lawn, Gretchen and I went for a swim in the saltwater pool. I left my glasses there and had to go back on a bicycle to retrieve them. Ramona ran with me the whole way there and back, an impromptu one mile jog for her.
I went on something of an anti-funk jihad down in the basement, the place where our two sets of guests will be staying. Our basement can be a moldy, funky place in the summertime, particularly one as rainy as this one has been. So there were back dapples of fungus to clean off surfaces (I used bleach, which just works). And then I attacked the problem of the hallway carpet, which had dapples of a different sort: the ghost of far more cat puking incidents than any piece of real estate that size has any reason to have. The dogs had cleaned up the puke itself, but enough had remained to discolor the carpet. My solution of choice this time was dilute Dr. Bronner's mint soap. It seemed to work, either at getting the stains out or forcing them deeper into the carpet. Either way was fine with me.

A mantid I found beside the northwest rain barrel today. When I went to take a picture of him/her, he/she was not frightened but instead decided to climb onto the camera, up my arm, and onto my head.

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