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:
   inner chainsaw murderer
Saturday, July 9 2011

Today Gretchen and I returned to Susan's place in Bearsville for another swim in her saltwater pool. We took the Subaru again so I could use the errand to also collect more firewood from the treefall at the edge of her woods. I didn't expect to get much wood this time, but yet again I ended up having more than I could haul. As I was cutting it, I thought the wood I was salvaging today was mostly White Oak, but once home I decided it was probably Sugar Maple. It's great perk now to have an outdoor shower for scrubbing away the Poison Ivy exposure and a pool for lowering my core body temperature down to something a bit less hyperthermic. Do you know what really sucks about firewood gathering in July? Not being able to start the chainsaw easily with a yank to the starter cord. It's one thing to pull frantically dozens of times when it's 24 degrees Fahrenheit; it's quite another at 84. Supposedly Stihl is a good brand of chainsaw, but if my computer were as unreliable as my Stihl is, I would probably be forced to gather firewood for a living.

I should mention that driving through Woodstock on a sunny Saturday is an ordeal best avoided if you are in the least bit hungry or thirsty or if (as was the case for us) your car has an expired inspection sticker on the window. All those slow-moving pedestrians in their me-too tie-dyed teeshirts and toe-headed toddlers can bring out your inner chainsaw murderer. But, again, I wouldn't want to have to rely on my Stihl.

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