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:
   Hoagie in the hospital
Monday, January 23 2023
A wet snow fell for much of the morning, putting an inch or two of accumulation on the ground. It was bad enough when Gretchen left for the bookstore a little before 11:00am that I convinced her to take the Forester instead of the Bolt.
I had another reasonably-productive day in the remote workplace, though some of it I completed after hours (after a bath, in fact). The other day Gretchen took the initiative to replace the razor head on my Gillette Fusion razor. I'd been using that same razor since April 5th, 2020, and I probably would've continued using it another couple years. But the feel of that brand new blade was revelation. Maybe I'm wealthy enough now to afford replacing the razor head every 33 months, but do I really want to be such a profligate razor head user?

In news of my mother (Hoagie) from Virginia, Don called today a little after dark (while grocery shopping at the Dollar Tree, having walked the 5.5 miles there pulling a small wagon). He told me that Hoagie was in the hospital and that the doctor had told him that some muscles in her back had atrophied after she lay too long on the floor. That seemed unlikely to me; had she lain in one place for even as much as an hour? But Don was insistent. You can never tell in these situations how much of the story is what the doctor actually said and what Don interpreted it to mean. I asked how long Hoagie was expected to remain in the hospital, and Don replied, "a few days." I asked if he had money to buy groceries, and he told me he had food stamps. Then I wanted to know how it was safe for him to walk these dark country roads at night. He told me that he wears a vest with reflective stripes on them, like firemen do.

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