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").



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   tomato breadcrumb soup
Tuesday, January 16 2024
There was a strong snow shower happening when I got out of bed this morning, and it continued into the afternoon. The conditions were bad enough that Gretchen took the Forester when she left at 5:00pm for her poetry-teaching class in the Coxsackie maximum security prison.
I'd let the dogs sleep on the beanbag in the laboratory last night, and that was a mistake because at some point this morning I stepped on a blanket in the laboratory main north-south path (through the clutter!) and I felt wetness. Charlotte had evidently peed on it. This was a lot easier to clean up than it would've been had she peed on the beanbag (which she evidently won't do now that she spends so much time lying on it). But she's clearly not as housebroken as I had wanted to believe.

Gretchen's birthday is coming up soon, so I wanted to paint her yet another painting of Charlotte, either with or without Neville in celebration of their mutual affection. (Gretchen seems to be at least as in love with Charlotte as she'd been with any other dog.) I found a photo Gretchen had taken of Charlotte and Neville lying together on a small dog bed at the Golden Notebook and, over the course of the day, I painted a version of it.
At some point this afternoon, Gretchen attempted to make a bread crumb tomato soup, and it ended up being something of a disaster. It looked gross and had too strong of an unbridled tomato flavor. I choked down most of a bowl of it but then had to give the rest to a dog. Neville didn't want it, but Charlotte lapped it up without much enthusiasm. Part of my problem was that I'd take a recreational dose of pseudoephedrine late this morning, which acts as a bit of an appetite suppressant, so unless food is delicious, I'm not too interested.


Today's painting. Click to enlarge.


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