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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Like my brownhouse:
   bok choy somehow melted
Tuesday, December 13 2016
Yesterday we hadn't needed to leave the house, so I'd left the snow unshoveled in the driveway. Today, though, David would be coming over to sign some of his books for Carrie (the arrangement is complicated), so I went out to the end of the driveway to dig out the pile the snowplow had left. There were only a couple inches on the driveway, so there was no reason to dig that out, but the mound along the road might've been difficult for a low-slung Prius to punch through. David, of course, came in some sort of four-wheel-drive quasi-SUV, but Gretchen would need to be getting out later. During the brief time I was out there shoveling, Celeste the Cat (aka "the Baby") showed up. She seemed to be enjoying the novelty of the snow, suggesting it was perhaps a little unfamiliar to her. We haven't had much snow in the last two years she's been alive, so perhaps it really was a novelty for her. It also seemed to be a novelty for Neville the Dog (who is younger than Celeste), particularly yesterday when it was soft and fresh.
After a somewhat-stressful day of emergency-building a system to synchronize unsubscribe information between two databases, I delighted in an amazingly-delicious meal Gretchen had prepared. It included pan-seared tofu, sauteed bok choy & mushrooms, rice noodles, and a peanut sauce. We've never had anything that good in a restaurant: the bok choy somehow melted in our mouths.


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