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:
   proof still isn't definitive
Saturday, January 7 2012
This morning once the sun was illuminating the living room nicely, I mixed up a tiny batch of wood-tone epoxy and used it to patch two of the burn holes in the floor in front of the woodstove. Then I did what I could to simulate a wood grain in the patches, pricking them where I wanted grain lines to run using a dental pick I kept dipping in powdered burnt umber. In retrospect I should have used a wooden pick, as the stainless steel dental pick didn't provide enough adhesion to pick up more than a tiny amount of pigment. Once the patch had hardened, I sanded it with fine sand paper and then stained it. The result was much better than what had been there, though (if one knew to look for them), it was still apparent that something had happened at those two spots. If I had a better-matching wood stain, though, it would be almost invisible.

The weather had returned to unseasonable warmth just in time for this month's KMOCA opening down on the Rondout. Gretchen and I picked up Nancy and we carpooled together, leaving our dogs to be dogsat by Uncle Ray (Suzy and Bruce the big-headed dog were there as well). The show this month is photography by our old Eagle's Nests friends John & Yva. While they normally go to far-flung Arctic and Antarctic climes to take their pictures, today's show featured photos exclusively from the Ashokan Reservoir, though they'd been taken in the winter and looked as though they might have been taken in the arctic as well.
After the show, a group of us (including Deborah and Tricia from the BRAWL scene) went to Mole Mole, the newish Mexican restaurant on the Rondout. Gretchen and I had had mediocre meals there once in the past, but we were willing to give it a second chance. And it's a good thing we did; the food (when we were finally able to get a table) was actually kind of good, although (since we were drinking either sangria or overly-sweet margaritas and we'd drunk nothing at all the time before), the proof still isn't definitive. The bartender was kind of a bitch, but with good friends it was possible to have a good time all the same.
Out on the street, our friend Tricia ran across someone she knows from the BRAWL scene at a fun little rock and roll club next door. Gretchen's former guitar teacher was playing with the band that was performing, and it was loud and psychedelic and awesome. But we just don't go into those kind of places any more. We learned from Tricia's friend (who is his girlfriend) that Gretchen's former guitar teacher is now a roadie for Coldplay.
Back at the house, I used a spare laptop computer to set up a webcam pointed at a digital thermometer in the living room. Gretchen and I would be down in Silver Spring for the next few days, and I wanted a way to check the temperature via the interwebs.

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