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

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Like my brownhouse:
   West Hurley Errand Loop
Monday, July 10 2006
The West Hurley Errand Loop is a drive I take when there's a special confluence of needs. I particularly like taking it when I need cat or dogfood, coffee, and am plagued by a surfeit of accumulated trash. The loop begins with a left trun out of the driveway heading northwestward on Dug Hill Road. I stop at the Hurley dump four miles away to deposit recycleables and throw away bags of trash. Nobody seems to care if I let the dogs out to run around the dump. The young guys who run the place always make a fuss and spoil them with biscuits.
After the dump, I drive out to 28A and bust a right, go about a half a mile, and then take a left on Beesmer. It passes beneath some beautfiful old railroad ruins and past a few houses and trailers, none with much curb appeal, spitting me out on Route 28 near Woodstock Harley Davidson about a half mile later. Across 28 and a few hundred feet to the east is Catskill Mountain Coffee, where I can order coffee or pick it up when it arrives. Getting coffee is a two-step process, since you have to order it days in advance and pay up front. They only accept cash.
Today I ordered my coffee and bought a plastic cup of iced coffee to go (much as I hate to say this, it's not as good as Starbucks' iced coffee), which I took with me when I drove back into the adjacent Onteora Lake recreation area. I turned the dogs loose in the parking lot as usual, but on this occasion a large black German Shepherd in the back of a nearby convertible barked a doggy obscenity at them, so they ran at him and jumped up on the side of the car he was in, barking and being unexpectedly aggressive. "No! No!" I shouted, running forward and swatting them away. I turned to the skinny little old hippie man whose car it was and apologized. "You got to control your dogs!" he shouted. "Ohhh!" I said in disgust, though in this case he might have been in the right. I let the dogs run along the lakeshore a little, and I could see in the distance the little old man walking to the back of my car and standing there, seeming to do something. I thought he was taking down my license plate number or something, like a 60 year old Dan Reitman with a tapeworm. But when I returned to my car, the guy was much friendlier than he had been, chit-chatting about how is dog is very aggressive with other males but would probably have been okay with my females. I guess the he had seen my Impeach Bush! bumpersticker and decided I was okay after all. As we were talking, I couldn't help but notice the old guy was wearing Brazilian-style nut-hugger swimming briefs beneath his teeshirt.
My last stop on my loop is always the Barn Yard Pet Food place not far west of where Hurley Mountain Road joins Route 28. After my errands are finished, I return home by taking Hurley Mountain Road to Dug Hill Road, completeing the l2.5 mile loop at the end of my driveway.

This afternoon I finally got started on a sheetrocking project in the garage. The goal is to put up enough wall that I can justify installing shelving, which will finally allow me to address the clutter crisis out there.

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