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").



links

decay & ruin
Biosphere II
Chernobyl
dead malls
Detroit
Irving housing

welcome to the collapse
Clusterfuck Nation
Peak Oil

got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff


Like asecular.com
(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   post-sick cleaning jihad
Tuesday, March 10 2020
It was really hard to do anything at work today except obsessively check news of the progress of the ongoing COVID-19 coronavirus pandemic. I'm sure I'm not the only one so obsessed. I've experienced a lot of crazy shit in my life, including the smell of the rubble of the collapsed towers of the World Trade Center, but nothing like what is about to happen (if Italy provides any indication).
When I got home this afternoon, I immediately took the dogs for a walk (this time through the abandoned go-cart track and then homeward). Then, back at the house, I made and ate a series of sandwiches and then launched into a multi-hour cleaning jihad. I needed to make the house presentable for Gretchen, who would be flying in from Austin, Texas this evening. The cleaning included scooping all the litter boxes, sweeping up and then vacuuming all accumulated detritus in the living room and stairs to the second floor, washing all the dishes, and then doing two loads of laundry so as to wash all sheets, pillow cases, and blankets I'd slept on for the past couple weeks. For part of that time, as you'll recall, I was sick and suffered from night sweats and fits of coughing. Also, last night one of the cats had vomitted on one of the blankets. While waiting for the second load to dry in the dryer, I took a nice hot bath with the latest issue of Nuts & Volts, the one with an article about building a cheap animal-tracking transmitter.
I was in bed when Gretchen arrived a little after 10:00pm. She'd had a relaxing flight in a plane with lots of empty seats and had felt so well-rested that she'd managed to do a Trader Joe's run when driving through Paramus, New Jersey.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?200310

feedback
previous | next