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:
   good thing I'd hoarded those scraps
Monday, December 9 2019
At this point in my life, if I'm not socializing, sleeping, eating, bathing, or drinking alcohol (and sometimes even when I am) then I am probably working: either professionally or related to some sort of household chore. It was rainy this afternoon on the drive home, and that rain made most outdoor chores impossible even with the half hour of murky daylight I get from leaving work at four. There are, of course, plenty of indoor tasks for me, but none of these benefit much from daylight. I managed to cross one of these off my list this evening when I finally sealed up a rectangular hole in the wall above the circuit breaker box in the shop. That box is surrounded by wood planks, not drywall, an idea I'd had to make the inside of the wall more accessible. But then I'd built a shelf on those planks, and so I'd had to cut through the planks anyway to be able to connect up the wire going to the laboratory split. Today, I made a removable lid for that rectangular hole from a bit of sheet metal leftover from the standing-seam roofing used for the screened-in porch project. It was a good thing I'd hoarded those scraps, as that was the perfect material. Conventional roofing would be a bit flimsy for this application, but that standing-seam roofing is solid.
Usually after I take a bath, I might do a little work in the laboratory, but nothing too involved. Tonight, though, it occurred to me that I should take advantage of the letting-up of the rain to look for my lost platinum wedding ring (which had cost over $700 in 2003 dollars). So I put on my rubber boots, strapped on a headlamp, grabbed a small handheld metal detector and my firewood-hauling backpack, and went off down the Stick Trail, avoiding puddles as best I could (since one of the boots has a tiny leak). The snow was sloshy and gross, and there was enough precipitation falling to be make conditions slightly miserable in that way that had me thinking "what the fuck was I thinking when I decided to do this?" I thoroughly investigated the spot where the larger metal detector had been booping and beeping, but the small detector found nothing. It was a good thing I'd brought the backpack, which allowed me to bring home about forty pounds of drenched firewood.

How the snow west of the house was looking this afternoon.

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