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:
   sewing lettuce in the rain
Monday, April 20 2015
In the wee hours of this morning, I awoke in the greenhouse upstairs stinking of marijuana dregs and spilt Genesee Cream Ale. The pitter-patter of raindrops on the metal roof had me hoping I hadn't walked down there in my sock feet. But I had. For some reason, I left my socks on for the walk back to the house despite the puddles of rainwater on the flagstones and asphalt. I figured my body heat would just burn that moisture away, and eventually of course it did. I had what was to be one of those hangovers that is worst in the wee hours of the morning, turns mostly into a headache by morning, and then resolves into a dull malaise for the balance of the day. I forgot to mention that I'd had a recreational dose of pseudoephedrine yesterday, and it's hard to take that and not end up drinking enough to have a hangover.
By this morning, the rain was coming down steadily from cool grey skies, and Gretchen announced that not only did she want to spend the whole day in bed (an impossibility since she had to go to work at noon), but she also wanted a cup of decaf. So I obliged, brewing up a french press of it and even adding nearly the correct amount of vegan creamer to hers (as usual, served in her faded "January 19th, 1989: Reagan's Last Day" coffee mug, which, since it fell on that day, she was given for her 18th birthday).
The rain continued more or less all day, making it impossible to give the dogs their usual walk. Happily, Eleanor seemed to have nearly stopped coughing finally after a more than two-week bout with kennel cough. This frees up thirteen 2.5 milligram capsules of pure hydrocodone for other uses (no, Nancy Reagan, we will not be flushing those down the toilet).
Despite ongoing rain, I planted Spotted Trout Lettuce in a small part of the southwest corner of the main garden patch.
After she got back from work, Gretchen complained about it being cold in the living room even though the thermometer said it was 70 degrees Fahrenheit there. It seems she'd been spoiled by that week of glorious weather. So I had to start a fire, dipping into that final tranche in the back of the woodshed.
At around midnight, several hours of rainlessness came to an abrupt end with the arrival of an energetic electrical storm accompanied by heavy downpours. I closed the garage doors to keep paper-based items from being destroyed.

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