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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   Oaxaca Wednesday
Wednesday, May 29 2013
I woke up feeling fine, if not perfectly rested. The day promised to be a warm and sunny one, so I decided to take the dogs for a very long walk. Yesterday's unpleasantness had followed hours of sitting in front of my computer, and I thought some exercise might do me good. Our walk took us roughly parallel-to Dug Hill Road, some 500 to 1000 feet to its southwest. I've only been doing this walk since this Spring, and I've always treated Reichel Road like a barrier, but today we crossed it, continuing through a patch of woods to a place where quarry overburden had been dumped many decades ago. It had the characteristic humpy look of human-made tailing piles, though now they were all grown over with trees, some of which were as thick as my leg. There was a house and driveway near these piles, as well as a long, deep, narrow pond carved into the bluestone, just one of the many lesser bluestone mines in these forests. Not wanting to attract attention, I hurried the dogs across the driveway and on to familiar territory: the road leading to the abandoned quarry (this may or may not be known as Lorenz Road). We continued on through the quarry, past the abandoned inn, and eventually made it through the woods back to the Farm Road and home. [I've finally figured out how to map these things with Google Maps, and so here is the map of today's walk:]


View May 29 2013 Walk in a larger map

The evening came and went without any distressing physical symptoms. My chest is a little fluttery and umfortable still, but I think this is a case of acid reflux disease that periodically flares up and bothers me.
Not feeling plagued by physical complaints was both energizing and liberating, so this evening I did something I seldom do: I cooked a meal. Seeing the leftover rice from Gretchen's easy-on-the-stomach snack last night, I decided to make a Mexican dinner (or, as I called it, "Oaxaca Wednesday"), and it was waiting for Gretchen when she came home from drinking wine with friends. (I'd been invited but hadn't wanted to go.)


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