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:
   until the next firewood-gathering season
Tuesday, October 27 2015
Last night I'd gone down to the greenhouse upstairs at around midnight with a book David (of Susan & David) recently bought me: Command and Control: Nuclear Weapons, the Damascus Accident, and the Illusion of Safety. At the time there was a very light frost happening, though the weather forecast predicted conditions would gradually warm overnight. I ended up spending most of the night in the greenhouse, only heating it electrically as I read and the coasting on that heat for the rest of my time there. I should say that Command and Control is a somewhat harrowing book to read while smoking marijuana, as I was. Reading about all the expense that went into missile silos that were never used (and that would have been pointless to actually use), I kept thinking "Why not just say you built these things but spend the money on something more useful?"
The night's frost (which was still evident on the roof shingles when I walked back to the house at around 8:00am) managed to kill a few leaves on the pepper plant that I'd covered for the two earlier frosts, but the setback wasn't severe.
I made a modest firewood run late this morning, partly in my capacity as a search party sent out to look for Ramona, who was slow in coming home from her morning walk. I saw her running homeward on the Stick Trail as I approached it from the mountain goat spur behind the woodshed, so that meant she wasn't caught in a coyote trap or disembowled by an angry mother bear. Today's salvage tally came to 68.55 pounds outside and 13.0 inside. I really have no place else to put firewood around the woodshed, so all future salvage missions (until the next firewood-gathering season, not to begin any earlier than March) will be to gather dry just-in-time wood for inside.
I wasn't feeling motivated to do much today, so I spent several additional chunks of time reading Command and Control down in the greenhouse, on the couch in the living room in front of a roaring fire, in the bathtub, and at bedtime on the couch when Eleanor had taken my place in bed. Eleanor is in her golden years and so gets anything she wants, but if I had attempted to climb into bed next to her, she would have gotten up and left. That's how important it is for her to feel that she is not imposing.

The pines and fall colors over the septic field east of the house. (Click to enlarge.)

The east side of the woodshed.

The woodshed viewed from the west. See how far from the shelter it sprawls.

The state of the woodshed after firewood gathering. [Note that I took these photos on 10/28 while it was raining; you can see the moisture pattern on the wood that isn't protected by a roof.] (Click to enlarge.)

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