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").



links

decay & ruin
Biosphere II
Chernobyl
dead malls
Detroit
Irving housing

got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff


Like asecular.com
(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   very sub-standard packing
Thursday, June 15 2023

location: rural Hurley Township, Ulster County, NY

[REDACTED]

I (well, just me with the dogs) planned to be leaving a day early for the cabin today after the arrival of something I wanted to have at the cabin: a pole saw I'd ordered online. It arrived earlier than expected, at around noon, sending me into a fury of activity so that I could immediately leave (thereby having some of the drive take place during the lunch hour). Unfortunately, the pole saw (a Ryobi one using the same One+ battery as all my other battery-powered Ryobi tools) was missing the middle bar, which looked like it might've fallen out in the mail due to very sub-standard packing. This meant the saw would only reach six feet instead of nine. So I had to write a mesage to the seller. I also wanted to plant some sprouting cannabis seeds my high school friend Eric had given me back in Virginia.
But then I was on the road with the dogs, periodically tapping the Microsoft Teams app on my phone to make it look like I was still "working" in the remote workplace. I even managed to respond to some comments with suitably-weird emojis as I drove.
I stopped multiple times on the way to the cabin: briefly at the Pattersonville rest areas so me and the dogs could piss, at the Noble Ace Hardware in Johnstown so I could get four bags of organic garden soil, at the Price Chopper for the kind of cabin staples I need when I'm there alone, at Adirondack Spirits for a bottle of gin, at Parker's Posies for a six pack of lettuce plants, and at Burger King for an Impossible Whopper with no mayonnaise and two large orders of fries.
As I rumbled down Woodworth Lake Road, I had to avoid an equipment hauler parked mostly in the road; a bulldozer it had brought was leveling in the forest in yet another cabin site, which was (as these things are) depressing. But things looked beautiful at our cabin, where the patches of white clover seemed to have expanded so much that they'd begun to merge in places. And the flowers we'd bought at Parker's Posies were looking amazing. After the usual ritual of eating the Burger King, I planted the lettuce in pots on the deck as well as the little patch of garden, which the deer have yet to discover.
I didn't do much in the remote workplace until after the workday had ended. I've been trying to come to an understanding how git deals with submodules, particularly in the context of an Azure DevOps pipeline, and ChatGPT has been a helpful source of information. But there are still things that lie just beyond my understanding (and ability to articulate) that are holding me up. As I worked, I listened to MP3s on a pair bluetooth headphones (since the speakers in my work-issued laptop have never worked and the cabin's NCredible bluetooth speaker refused to pair because of course). The music tonight was the surprisingly sexy post-punk sound of Consonant, comprised of former members of Mission of Burma.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?230615

feedback
previous | next