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:
   big farm jack
Wednesday, April 12 2023
I actually have a farm jack I bought from Harbor Freight years ago, though I could never get it to do anything but jack upwards (that is, it would be useless for jacking up a car because when you needed to put the car back down again, it had no gentle mechanism to do this). I used that jack to spread apart two pieces of a boulder in the forest about 150 feet southeast of the house, and it's been there ever since.
At lunch today, I drove out to the new Harbor Freight store on Miron Lane to see if that have any farm jacks. They had a big one capable of lifting a payload by 53 inches for a little over $100, so I bought one of those. Hopefully it works better than that crappy one rusting in the forest.
Early this afternoon, my brother Don called and it turned out my aunt Barbara and two cousins (Deidre and Kent) were visiting from Connecticut. They'd retrieved my mother Hoagie from whatever old folks' home she lives in and she was there as well. I talked to her briefly, and she's still able to knit together sentences that ramble on and on, though not necessarily having much relationship to the subject at hand. She said the food at her new residence is pretty good, though I suppose anything would seem good after living for several years on insufficiently-microwaved frozen food purchased from a dollar store.
Meanwhile Gretchen worked a bookstore shift and then took the train into Manhattan to see Ha*ash (a Latina pop band) live. That meant I'd have the house to myself tonight. It also just happened to be the Wednesday when my software development team has their sprint retrospective, which (for me) is always an excuse to drink. Though I'd had recreational pseudoephedrine late this morning, I was careful to avoid drinking so much that I would end up with a hangover.

recent pictures taken by my cousin Deidre in Virginia

Hoagie (left) and her twin Barbara at Shenandoah Valley Art Center. That's my cousin Kent in the background. Click to enlarge.

Don's day bed at Creekside covered with the parts of an air-powered car kit he tried (but failed) to assemble. He says he lost some essential pieces. Click to enlarge.

In front of Creekside. From left: Kent, Don, and Barbara. Click to enlarge.

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