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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Like my brownhouse:
   not just someone sticking to a diet
Thursday, January 10 2019
I walked through the bitter cold (and into the prevailing winds) to Bubby's this afternoon for my customary Thursday burrito.m It was about 1:00pm when I arrived, and I was the only customer. When I ordered the burrito, I let the cashier feel like she was familiar with my "usual" by saying "yes" when she said "veggie burrito," though then I wondered if that maybe would have dairy products in it. Sure enough, it did. I used to love sour cream in my burritos, but I've been vegan so long that it tasted gamey and gross to me. It would've been a much better experience had it actually been a vegan burrito. But sometimes I have to remind myself that I am now an organic vegan, not just someone sticking to a diet. (I have a feeling, though, that I would still enjoy a bucket of KFC if I were forced at gunpoint to eat one.) The non-vegan burrito wasn't the only thing that was off in today's Thursday meal. The green jalapeño salsa is usually somewhat gelatinous, but today it was more liquid, and also hotter.
The walk back to the workplace was with the wind, and thus much more pleasant.
Back at the house this evening, the plumbing guy had been back to redo the gas line, making enough room for the bottom of the middle drawer under the gas stovetop. The pipe still intruded slightly into the space occupied by the drawer, so Colin had sawn out its top back right corner.
Later when I went to seal things up and make them mouse proof beneath the island cabinetry, I was dismayed to find that the gas line was now exiting through the center of the four inch hole I'd sawn through the floor. It had been exiting through a notch in the side of the hole, allowing me to plug the hole with a removable plug I'd made. Now in order to seal the hole into the floor, I had to cut a notch in that plug and then spray-foam the hell out of it, making a messy, non-removable plug. Chances are low that I would've ever actually accessed the floor through that plug, but it gladdened my soul to know it was there. And it definitely made a little bit of me die inside to have to abandon that plug as part of a spray-foam mouse barrier.


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