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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got that wrong
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Like my brownhouse:
   burying wallpaper
Wednesday, October 29 2014
I had a meeting with my Lightroom plugin webapp guy early this afternoon, and Gretchen always likes to make herself scarce when that happens. When the weather is sunny, the greenhouse upstairs is a nice place for her to go. But it was not sunny, and the greenhouse still had a little of the chill from last night. So she ran the heater. After the meeting, I went down there partly just to remind Ramona know it was a fun place she could go (though she often goes down there and hangs out on her own). Unfortunately, the heater (a DeLonghi HMP) is still offgassing weird chemicals whenever it is used, though it's now approaching two years of age. It also makes a quiet (though annoying) 60 Hz hum. None of these things were mentioned in the reviews I'd read of it back when I was researching electric space heaters.

When I arrived at the Wall Street house, I was delighted to see that the toilet did not appear to be leaking, at least not from the tank. There was a puddle under it, but that might have been left over from water sloshing around as I carried it there. So I put the toilet up on two stacks of loose wood, which would allow me to monitor if it was dripping or not. Then I turned my attention back to spackling what remained to be spackled of the bathroom walls. Occasionally the wallpaper underneath would blister up, and I'd take the opportunity to scrape that bit of wallpaper away. By the time I was done, there was no way to tell that there had ever been wallpaper on that wall (except on the ceiling, which is too remote to worry much about).
Since nearly all of the non-cosmetic work on the Wall Street house is done, I've begun loading surplus and no-longer-needed supplies and tools into my car. Yesterday I removed most of the PVC stuff, and today I took home a bunch of scrap wood, the Porter-Cable power saw, the hammer drill, and that section of cut-away cast iron pipe.
It had been a warmish rainy day, but by this evening it was clear that a mass of cold air was approaching. There has already been a frost in many places in the area (for example, over a week ago it froze at Ray & Nancy's place down in Old Hurley, which lies in something of a frost pocket), though it has still yet to freeze up here on Hurley Mountain.


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