Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").
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short-lived toys for Ramona
Monday, December 2 2013
There was still more than 20 inches of water in the greenhouse basement today, and I wondered if it would be possible to pump it out. So I set up a little electric pump (the kind used for creating small artificial waterfalls) and began pumping the water up to a little-used perforation in the foundation wall near the southeast corner. The water poured forth at a good rate (fast enough to fill a 12 oz beer can in six seconds), and I left it on for hours. But the effects weren't apparent. Eventually I leaned a metal yardstick up against the side of the excavation to objectively measure any drop in water levels. After two hours of pumping, the level had dropped about an inch. A flow rate of 120 ounces/minute moves about 120 gallons in two hours, which, given the geometry of the hole, should have been more like four to six inches of depth. But I was battling water continuing to flow into the excavation from the surrounding rock. The water table stays high for weeks after a rain like the one we recently had, so I'm just going to have to wait.
Inspired my delight at my new pajama bottoms, Gretchen went to Marshall's and got me two more pairs. She also bought three dog toys for Ramona, which she left on the kitchen table. I made the mistake of squeaking one of them, and it so excited Ramona that she did something she doesn't even do for food: she got up on her hind legs to get one of the toys. It was as if she was saying, "I know these are for me, don't try to tell me they're not." I wasn't sure just then that the toys were for Ramona (and not, say, holiday presents for the other dogs in our lives), but when I told Gretchen about how excited Ramona was for them, she told me I could give them to her. Two of the toys contained squeakers and plastic stuffing and she had both of them completely eviscerated by the end of the evening.
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