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

fun social media stuff

(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   run around like a berserker
Monday, July 30 2007

A woman named Abby (a fairly famous author, actually) called me this morning wanting to have her laptop repaired. I told her that my day was proving hectic, but if she wanted to come over I'd try to fix it. Abby arrived just as Gretchen was setting a vegan breakfast before our houseguests, and since she's hospitable in the Bedouin sense, Gretchen convinced Abby to join us for breakfast. While they talked about writerly matters at the kitchen table, I was over on the couch switching off the more annoying aspects of Abby's installation of Norton Internet Security. What I wouldn't give to see Symantec hauled before a grand jury for racketeering and computational malpractice!

Later, after Abby went on her way, the rest of us took a long walk in the forest, taking the Stick Trail around to its west end (two miles away) and coming back on the farm road. We made the mistake of bringing Eleanor along, even though she's supposed to still be convalescing. By the end of the day she was limping again, although hopefully this didn't mean she's set back her recovery.
Of course, it didn't help Eleanor's knee that later in the afternoon Gretchen took her and Sally to Woodstock for a photo shoot, giving our gimpiest dog yet more opportunities to run around like a berserker. When she returned home this evening, Gretchen could claim she'd been photographed by the man who'd taken the most famous picture of James Dean. By the way, the photo shoot hadn't been a particularly pleasurable experience, as the photographer in question is now a rather crotchety contrarian in his late 70s.

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