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:
   gorgeous state of unfurlment
Tuesday, May 2 2023
Late this morning, Gretchen took Lester the Cat for a checkup at that elderly veterinarian's practice we've been using of late. Gretchen later reported that the vet, while admitting Lester's wrist had improved, acted as though perhaps we might end up amputating it. Or that we might even have to euthanize Lester himself. Mind you, this is a cat who seems happy and has no trouble walking like a normal cat. The "cone of shame" has kept him from licking his wrist, which has allowed it to heal up nicely. Indeed, the vet said Lester no longer needed to wear the cone of shame. Instead, we should keep the wrist bandaged. And, should he chew the bandage off, we should have his wrist covered with a bitter apple flavor to make it unpleasant to lick.
What with his cone of shame, Lester's appearance has been bizarre. He's looked like some cyborg piece of radio equipment, and he never fully got used to wearing it. He'd along, pushing the front of the cone along the floor like a bulldozer. It would catch on table legs and door jams. But now the cone is gone and he's back to being a normal-looking cat.

At noon today, I drove into town mostly to get another ball-valve boiler drain, this time from Herzog's. They had the soldered (sweat) kind, which I got. But in case I ended up needing a PEX kind, I would've gotten one of those two. But Herzog's doesn't carry much PEX stuff, suggesting that the plumbers who get stuff there are mostly working on older houses, the kind without much PEX in them. While there, I also some things at Hannaford: Chobani-brand oat milk (my favorite) several flavors of Ben & Jerry's vegan ice cream, a four-pack of Belgian farm ale, tempeh, and tofu. Neville must've followed Gretchen on a walk, because he wasn't around when I'd set out, so only Ramona got to be sit around being bored in the Hannaford parking lot.

My brother Don called me again today, this time to talk about how amazing his running has been. He's also made further progress on his Lego projects, finding (as I suspected) that some of the pieces he thought were missing have been there the whole time. Frustrating as they are for him, Legos are a more cost-effective investment than other things he'd been spending money on. The other day he told me he'd been flying a drone and it fell in the stream. That seemed like a better fate than ending up in a tree, but evidently not; the water apparently destroyed its electronics, and it didn't work even after he'd dried it out. (As I joked to Gretchen, Don is so impoverished that for him, a drone falling in the creek is comparable to one of our houses burning down for us.)
Gretchen suggested I bring up future housing options as a way to feel-out how Don would handle moving into a different living arrangement, since his time at Creekside is limited by the time our mother remains alive. I asked Don what he would think of living in a group home, and he said that it would be okay. He also mentioned something I'd never heard before, that our mother (Hoagie) has supposedly arranged a trust for Don, one that, he claimed, he could receive money from on top of what he gets from Supplemental Security Income (SSI). I didn't know such a thing was possible, and I have my doubts Hoagie had such selflessness and foresight even when she had all her marbles. You'd think she would've at least mentioned this to me so I'd have it in my head as something to be aware of, but for the past decade or so her bitter selfishness seems to have been the ruling mindset.

This evening after work, Gretchen was going out to dinner and a movie with Lisa P., and she was leaving, I was headed out to go on a walk in the forest. Unusually, the dogs decided to follow me, and I walked at a leisurely pace (since they have become so slow). We walked up the Chamomile Headwaters Trail (which, after recent heavy rains, features a babbling brook along its length. We cut over fairly low on the hill and came back via the Stick Trail. The fern fiddleheads were in a gorgeous state of unfurlment, and I took some pictures.

Beautiful fiddleheads along the Farm Road. Click to enlarge.

Neville along the edge of a pond in the bog between the Chamomile Headwaters Trail and the Farm Road. Click to enlarge.

Ramona along the edge of a pond in the bog between the Chamomile Headwaters Trail and the Farm Road. Click to enlarge.

Dr. Seuss fiddleheads along the Stick Trail. Click to enlarge.

Unfurling interrupted ferns along the Stick Trail. Click to enlarge.

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