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

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(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   musical bait and switch
Saturday, July 7 2018
It was cooler today and perfect for working outdoors, particularly in the shade of something that will some day be a screened-in porch. Today I installed a continuous rail of two by sixes reaching from the screen-door opening in the southwest corner of the porch (did I finish that yesterday?) all the way around to the northwest corner of the porch. I actually notched both the two-by-sixes and the two-by-four verticals I was attaching them to so they would dovetail together to form a very solid connection.

This afternoon, Gretchen and I went into Kingston to look at stain options for the porch and to investigate a weird water issue in the Wall Street rental unit. At Wall Street, the problem was mysterious damp spots on the floor. I'd brought binoculars so I could look at the roof (in case that was the problem). But there was no water damage on the ceiling or in the attic, and there wasn't even any water damage downstairs beneath the floor with the wet spots. There also was no sign of leaking from anything in the bathroom or even the room's radiator. The most likely culprit was an air conditioning unit; the wet spots seemed to be in the places where it was spraying its cold air (and perhaps moisture). I reached that conclusion pretty quickly, though the tenant was less sure. We left things by telling her not to run the air conditioner in that room and to see if the wet spots dry up on their own.
At Herzogs, after lots of hemming and hawing, we got two sample cans of stain: a opaque sage green for the ceiling and grey for the floor. The paint expert there told us we would have to wash the deck with trisodium phosphate and bleach before staining it, something I'd never heard before.

This evening, Gretchen assembled some snacks and then we (but not the dogs) drove out to the Zena Road Cornfield (directly across Zena Road from Little Deep) to attend a live concert by a three-piece chamber orchestra. It turns out that this field now belongs to a land conservancy designed to protect open space around Woodstock, and the performance was to be one of several benefits held to support the trust. At the the cornfield, we met up with Eva and Sandor and Sandor's mother (who lives in the granny flat in the basement of their house), and later Susan and David showed up. The event was not particularly well-attended; I would say there were between 30 and 50 people there. The orchestra consisted of an electronic piano, a violin, and a clarinet, all amplified by a sound system that was powered by a generator. Unfortunately, the generator was running the whole time we were there, and it wasn't far enough way not to hear. (I suspect the whole show could've been done with battery power; something to consider for next time.)
Gretchen had sold this to me as a performance of classical music, and initially it was. There was a work for that particular set of instruments by Mozart, and the "orchestra" also did a beautiful rendition of Camille Saint-Saéns' "Le cygne." But then they moved on to jazzy Gershwin standards from the 1930s such as "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off," and "I Got Rhythm" (featuring the pianist on vocals) and it was torture (especially after only six ounces of beer). I did at least have a little fun with this stupid music, singing along with such lyrics as "You say butthole, I say Uranus," causing Gretchen to dissolve into a pool of suppressed giggles. In general, though, I do not appreciate a musical bait and switch.
We hung out for awhile after the performance, discussing such things as my new job prospects and the Screaming Females (who might've done some justice to those insipid George Gershwin tunes).

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