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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got that wrong
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Like my brownhouse:
   the bitch is dead
Saturday, May 31 2014
At some point today, I finished the second tranche of firewood in the woodshed, which required a bit more wood than I could obtain on a single backpack foray. (When I approach the completion of a tranche, there's a temptation to do what it takes to finish it, even it it means several forays for additional wood, in this case dragged as big pieces from just west of the Farm Road.) This means that the woodshed now contains at least two cords of wood, which is more than the 1.7 cords that I calculated that I burned in the past (unusually cold) heating season.
After a cool but sunny day, I was sitting at my computer waiting for my hair to dry (I'd taken a nice hot solar-heated bath), and I heard the loud buzzing of an insect trying to find a way through the screen of the laboratory window. I went to look to see what it was and saw that it was the year's first June Bug (which is technically a beetle) arriving fifteen minutes before the month after which it had been named. Normally, June Bugs arrive deep inside of May, but everything is delayed this year.


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