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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   Neville didn't crash the motorcycle
Friday, December 29 2017
After last night's prison escape, Neville seemed a little more tender on his feet as he walked around. He even sat down briefly on the walk to the door for his morning poop walk, which was a little unusual. But he didn't seem lame in either of his legs and didn't have anything I would characterize as a limp. Still, out of an abundance of caution, Gretchen called the vet who had given him the operation. She reached a member of his staff, and for awhile it looked like we might have to drive Neville the hour-and-a-half to Pattersonville for an examination. But later, when Gretchen was off at the library, the vet called and I answered. Gretchen had described him as being super nice, but on the phone (perhaps understandably) he had a bit of the tone your father might have after borrowing and wrecking his motorcycle. It turned out, though, that we'd probably dodged a bullet (or avoided a motorcycle crash). If Neville was walking normally, the vet suggested, probably nothing bad had happened. Furthermore, some soreness from the unexpected exercise was to be expected, which would account for the ginger steps he's been taking.

The dogs haven't been too needy during the day when I need to work (and Gretchen is gone). On the occasions when I do feel the need to cuddle with them, I've been continuing my exploration of the parts that I find interesting of the vast YouTube rabbit hole. Today I spent a fair amount of time watching things like how computer rooms functioned in the days of reel-to-reel tape and punch cards and a teardown of an HP85 scientific computer (which I remember from advertisements in Science magazine in the late 1970s).


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?171229

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