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
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dead malls
Irving housing

got that wrong

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Like my brownhouse:
   metal detector finds something
Saturday, January 11 2020
A week ago today, Gretchen and I spent the day in bed recovering from some sort of plague that also affected others in our VegVoyages Christmas-in-India tour. As you'll recall, both Savanna and her mother Diana were afflicted so badly they'd spent a night in a Munich hospital. Also: half "the family" was afflicted, as was Vicki, the Australian who teaches English in Japan. Those not afflicted included Gretchen's parents, sister-in-law, and nephew. Kirstin and her mother Connie didn't get it, though Connie had had a nasty wet cough for the whole trip, and I wonder if that might be the same thing I now have (though it only produces tiny slivers of phlegm per cough; Connie's had sounded like it produced more like a teaspoon. A week later, though, we were mostly recovered. My cough wasn't going anywhere, but we had our usual Saturday morning coffee.
The day was unseasonably warm, with highs in the 60s and comfortable sunny conditions. I took advantage of this by salvaging two backpack-loads of firewood. One was from about 300 feet west of the Farm Road and the other was from the edge of the escarpment near the greenhouse (just east of the pine-covered artificial knoll containing our septic field). For that latter location, I didn't know I'd find anything worth salvaging until I went there. In these forests, though, generally if I haven't been to a location and already salvaged all the wood, there is going to be something there for me to salvage.
I also took advantage of the complete absence of snow to go searching again for my lost wedding ring. I hoped I might just see it there on the leaves, though I also brought the metal detectors. Using the latter, I actually managed to find a human artifact, the first time a metal detector has ever helped me do that. It was just a piece od rusty old fence wire buried in the mountain goat path leading from the Stick Trail to the woodshed area.

Gretchen and I were kind of sick of going out and rich restaurant food (including the spaghetti I'd brought home yesterday) so we didn't have our usual date night.

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