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:
   accidental hydrocodone
Saturday, May 2 2015
Gretchen had to be at the bookstore early and so had to leave without walking the dogs. So I took them, bringing a camera, a cup of Red Rose tea, and my headphones (containing some stale podcasts I hadn't yet heard). After walking up the Farm Road to the southwestern terminus of the Stick Trail (where I noticed the existence of a new hunters' blind), I headed home on the Stick trail. With 3/4 of a mile left to go before getting home, I was overcome suddenly by a wave of nausea that eventually forced me to vomit three or four times. Unlike most vomitting experiences, this one wasn't too terrible, though I did break out in a sweat and have to sit down for a bit, puzzling the dogs. I wondered if the problem was that I'd drunk a cup of tea on an empty stomach. Or perhaps it was a pill I'd taken this morning.

Ramona on the Stick Trail near where I vomitted. (Click to enlarge.)

Fiddlehead ferns. (Click to enlarge.)

More Fiddlehead ferns. (Click to enlarge.)

When I'd gotten up this morning, I'd had a headache (from drinking a slight excess of exotic beers last night), so I'd taken a big white pill from the bottle that normally houses our stash of ibuprofen. When I returned from the walk, I went and checked the big white pills in that bottle and found they were actually hydrocodone (a narcotic) with acetaminophen (added to punitively destroy the livers of those who attempt to use it recreationally). Evidently Gretchen had merged the ibuprofen with the narcotics. I think at this point I need to maintain my own ibuprofen supply in the laboratory, right beside my cheap gin, melatonin, marijuana, and other medications & potions.

I was a bit off my game for the rest of the day, although I got some things done that needed doing. I planted all the seedlings I'd started on the assumption that it wouldn't freeze again until the autumn. It's still a bit early to make such an assumption, but the weather forecast for the next week shows a consistent run of temperatures in the 80s, and it will be hard for the air to drop below freezing after that unless something extremely unusual happens. Among the plants I planted was a large tomato (it might actually be as many as three separate plants) that has been growing under grow lamps since November or possibly October. It has a number of golf-ball-sized tomatos on it, though its been looking a little pale lately. I'm hoping that putting it in the ground will give it the vigor it needs to start pumping out delicious sun-ripened tomatoes.
Another accomplishment I achieved today was the installation of a proper motion-activated light on the woodshed. I'd tried several non-adjustable motion activation modules, but they'd all worked terribly, turning on the light in broad daylight and then leaving it on for many minutes (I prefer it only be on for about 20 seconds). These cheap Chinese modules come with three adjustments: sensitivity, time, and amount of daylight. With those properly dialed-in, I could make the light do exactly what I want, and never have to take a flashlight with me to get an armload of firewood again.
As the sun set and light faded in the sky, I completed one last task: the organizing and putting away the boxes, bags, and buckets of things that had been removed from the Wall Street rental property when we rented it and that Honda Civic Hybrid when we sold it. There were lots of tools (including an abridged-but-very-useful socket wrench set) that needed to end up in our newest car (the Prius), and there were dozens of cloth shopping bags that needed to be distributed between the two cars. There were also buckets of paint, half-full cans of solvents, and a variety of power tools that just needed to go to the places where they belonged, which was not just inside the northmost garage door (where they'd been since Novemeber).

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