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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(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   red sauce and toast
Friday, June 26 2015
Today was the day that the Supreme Court handed down the momentous decision forcing all the states of the United States to permit gay marriage. There was grumbling, mostly among Republican presidential hopefuls transparently trying to capture the increasingly-elderly anti-gay vote, which still forms a sizable block in the Republican party. In that regard, Bobby Jindal, perhaps the biggest phony in American politics (no easy feat), gets the prize. His state was the only one in which no gay marriages took place today. (Jindal, a trained biologist, is also famously pro-Creationism, though of course his kids go to a private school where creationism is not taught.) As always, I was mostly interested in the story for the schadenfreude I could experience when reading the reactions of people who apparently are unaware of what happened to the reputations of segregationists.
Yesterday I'd tried taking my battery-powered GreenWorks chainsaw out, mostly to clear downed trees on the Gullies Trail. But the chain blade was dull and the cutting was slow, so the saw kept overheating and quitting. So today I used my chainsaw sharpening tool to get a chain blade in working order for what might soon be the resumption of firewood gathering, which I haven't done in nearly a year. In the past, I'd only been able to mildly improve a chain blade with my cheapo Harbor Freight sharpening tool, but today I was more ruthless, holding the spinning grinding wheel aggressively against the teeth. This worked well, and when I next used the chainsaw, I was able to make a fast cut through a partially fallen-over skeletal oak west of the Farm Road. Unfortunately, the tree remained hung up in a hickory despite being cut all the way through. I tried coming back with a big digging bar and using it to leverage the tree off its stump, but I just didn't have the strength (tellingly, the bar, thick as it was, developed a bow in it from all the prying).

This evening, I had some leftover Italian-style red sauce and was too lazy to make more pasta. So I made toast instead, expecting it not to go well with the sauce. But I was wrong. That is a delicious combination, especially if the toast is good and toasted (that is, not soft and breadlike).

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