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:
   winter footwear
Sunday, March 30 2014
Despite heavy rains last night, there was a lull this morning sufficient to walk the dogs and gather firewood out on the Stick Trail at that tree I'd felled a kilometer to the south. I must be gradually conditioning my body to this sort of work, because I didn't feel quite as beat as I have in the past after bringing home a load that must have weighed at least 70 pounds. With a greatly-diminished snow pack, walking was easier, though now there was the problem of deep puddles, some of which I had to step into gingerly so as not to splash over the tops of my rubber boots.
Old-style rubber boots, the kind normally slipped over conventional shoes, are pretty much the only footwear I wear in the snowy season; I even wear them into town. As conditions grow drier, I transition back to Crocs, which I wear around the house, and a scuffy old pair of black dress shoes that I wear into town. It's been more than 20 years since I last wore either blue jeans or sneakers.
It was another day spent mostly in front of my computer, either watching episodes of Naked & Afraid, trolling Facebook, or doing web development. Gretchen returned at around 9:00pm from Silver Spring. She hadn't stopped at a Trader Joes, though she had bought a couple of packages of injera from an Ethiopian store and various sandwiches from Sticky Fingers, that vegan bakery she loves so much in the District.

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