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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   interracial human centipede
Sunday, February 28 2016
Late this morning, I went firewood gathering for the first time in days, salvaging 114.6 pounds from the east side of the high bluff just south of the Chamomile. Back at the house, I'd noticed that a chain tightening wrench was supposed to have come with the saw, though I'd been unable to find it. I thought perhaps it had been among the packing materials I'd burned and that I'd eventually find it in the ashes. But then I discovered that it was actually in the saw itself back at the back of the rear handle inside a clever little slot. So now my saw has two wrenches in two separate compartments. Perhaps I can use one of those slots for storing a different tool I find myself needing in the forest. I rarely have a need for a knife, though maybe some day I'll have to defend myself from a rabid bear (of course, a chainsaw would probably be a superior weapon in that scenario).

My mentee came over for a couple hours this afternoon, and I had him do some token work using a Javascript physics game-building framework called Phaser. As he did his thing (and quietly made little progress), I explored how to control a moving sprite in the framework using first HTML page links and then keyboard commands.

After my mentee left, I carried a splitting maul, a wedge, and my big battery-powered chainsaw to the fallen Chestnut Oak up the Chamomile from the Stick Trail. I then proceeded to make as many cuts as I could (maybe six) and then I split the pieces into chunks small enough to be picked up in the hands and carried. I also cleared a rudimentary trail along the Chamomile's north bank (through several fallen medium-sized White Ashes). This will eventually allow me to schlep the wood from the Chestnut Oak down to the Stick Trail.

This evening, the plan was to have dinner with Susan & David at the Garden Café. Gretchen would be getting off work at the bookstore and planned to meet us there, so I had to drive to Woodstock in the Subaru. I actually went directly to Susan & David's place and the three of us carpooled from there. As I passed the Ashokan Reservoir, I noticed that there was now some ice on its surface, though only along the shoreline and across a bay in its northeast corner. In the center of the reservoir was a vast swath of unfrozen surface. I don't know that the Ashokan has ever been ice-free at this time of year in all the time Gretchen and I have lived in the area. That said, I've heard from Maresa that Onteora Lake is frozen over and the seasonal ice-fishing shacks are there too.
I'd forgotten yet again to bring my hot sauce, so I had to live off the land at the Garden. The lentil & mushroom soup was bland and disappointing, and I wasn't in quite the right mood for the falafel wrap, so overall it kind of reminded me of the way meals at the Garden used to be under the ancien régime. I think I was in a somewhat cranky mood, finding all the interest of people wanting to taste the foods of others especially repulsive. When Susan asked me if I wasn't at least curious how Gretchen's burger tasted, I said, "I have no interest in how it tastes." I also didn't offer anyone any bites of my food, though Gretchen and David sampled my soup anyway, even though I'd already dumped at least a tablespoon of Melinda's hot sauce in it. We stayed long enough for a dessert and coffee course, and the coffee was more delightful than expected. I didn't sample the dessert, which we collectively described as resembling an "interracial human centipede." (David contributed the "human centipede" description, and I added the "interracial" part.)
Back at Susan & David's place, Susan and I flipped through two gorgeous art history books focused on the late medieval and Renaissance periods, talking techniques as we did so. She reminded me of the difference between glazing (painting in layers) and direct painting (which is what I mostly do when painting small acrylic paintings).
Today, by the way, marks the 15th anniversary of Gretchen and I getting back together after a 12 year estrangement. (Dinner in Woodstock originally had been planned just for us two, but then we added Susan and David after realizing we hadn't seen them in awhile.)


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