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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Like my brownhouse:
   wind, shingles, and fire
Thursday, April 29 2010
Temperatures hadn't risen out of the fifties in at least two days, but today finally they climbed into the 60s, though for some reason this was accompanied by a stupendous amount of wind. At one point I walked around the house to see if any more shingles had blown off the roof. We have "architectural shingles" and have lost four or five swaths of them over the years, though I've only felt the need to install a replacement the one time bare roof deck sheathing was exposed. Usually when architectural shingles blow off, they reveal another layer of shingles beneath, and this seems to be sufficient for keeping out the weather.
Penny and David came over with their son Milo for a lasagna dinner this evening, and by then it had cooled off enough to necessitate a fire. It's rare for me to feel the need to heat the house with a fire this late in the season, but it's been a highly unusual one.


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