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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got that wrong
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Like my brownhouse:
   sounded like rock
Wednesday, January 18 2017
Gretchen has hired a guy recommended by Susan (of Susan and David) to repair the drywall and repaint her downstairs library, and he (and today a friend) were down there working today until about dark while I puttered away in the laboratory. They're both Latino, and the music they listened to sounded like rock, though I couldn't quite place any of it.
Later this evening, I went on a modest cleaning jihad, vacuuming the first floor and cleaning accumulated crusts and oily residues from kitchen appliances. Not only would be having a "noodle party" tomorrow in celebration of Gretchen's 46th birthday, but we'd then be leaving the house (and all our animals) in the care of friends while we headed down to Washington, DC for the seemingly-historic "Women's March" that will be taking place on Saturday.


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