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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   Diane and the east deck wrens
Tuesday, May 8 2018
It was yet another lovely spring day, and we gave tiny Diane the Kitten the freedom to enjoy the east deck, which is the most outdoorsy experience we are willing to grant her at this point in her nascent cathood. Last night, there had been some insane-sounding barred owls in the nearby trees, and I'd had to fetch her from the deck, it being outdoors enough for airborne predators. In the daytime, there are fewer risks and much more activity in the natural world. Part of that was a pair of wrens evidently building a nest somewhere under the east deck. I've seen them carrying building material, and one even flew into the house with a beak full of something (which he or she never dropped, despite going into a mild panic at the unexpected impenetrability of window glass.) The wrens weren't very happy about Diane, but they didn't seem too scared of her either. They landed within several feet of her on the deck to cuss the way wrens do. For such small, seemingly-neckless birds, they make a lot of noise. Diane had never seen a bird so close-up before, and, though she was fascinated, she seemed to sense the futility of trying to approach them.
Later Chrissy and her corgi Chongo came by to socialize with Gretchen (who'd made a bunch of banana muffins). I came down from the laboratory briefly to eat a couple muffins and watch Chongo and Diane play. Diane was amazingly fearless in the face of a strange dog, and Chongo was being reasonably well-behaved. He would chase Diane occasionally, but only in a way that signalled to her that they were having fun. And he allowed Diane to chase him as well. Sometimes she'd retreat behind a balustrade and make playful slaps between the balusters with her tiny paws.


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