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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   stunned junco
Sunday, November 1 2020
Early this afternoon I went south down the Stick Trail with my firewood-hauling backpack and chainsaw. I didn't go as far as I went yesterday, but I was having trouble finding anything worth salvaging anywhere east of the trail. So I went up the slope to the west, going over 100 feet in that direction before finding some not-great fallen oak limbs. I was nevertheless able to make a reasonable backpack load to bring home.
Later I was in the laboratory when I heard a loud thump on the laboratory window, immediately followed by the appearance of two cats. They didn't know what to make of the object lying there on the steps that (when the window is open) leads out to the laboratory deck. I quickly determined the object was a stunned slate-colored junco that had flown at high-speed into the window from within the house, evidently trying to get away from the cats (who had probably brought the junco into the house via the pet door). Though stunned, the junco recovered within a minute or so and was able to fly off after I put him or her out on the laboratory deck (without the cats, of course).
I had some errands I needed to do in town, so this afternoon I booted up the Subaru using a loose (but fully-charged) 12 volt battery (as I was sure its battery had died in the weeks since I'd last started it). My first stop on my way to town was the Stewart's, where I needed to put air in the one tire with a slow leak. Stupidly, I turned the car off, and when I went to start it up again, well, nothing happened. By now it was raining. The first person I asked for a jumpstart was an Asian lady who said she was in a hurry, so I said no problem. There are so many people coming and going at Stewart's that I thought I'd wait for the perfect demographic before asking. I didn't want to ask anyone driving a Mercedes, any single women, or anyone avoiding eye contact. But before I could ask anyone, a guy saw me with my hood up and asked if I needed a jump. I said yeah and he had me back in operation within a minute.
I drove out to 9W, encountering an unexpected wave of traffic near the Staples. So I traveled parallel to 9W on John M Clark Road (the next road to the west, between the various businesses and the railroad track). I left the car running at Hannaford, where I got a 12 pack of Sierra Nevada Torpedo and some pain medication. (I soon realized that I much prefer Hazy Little Thing to Torpedo.) I then crossed 9W and went to Target to see if I could buy any hinged cases into which I might install a Raspberry Pi with screen and keyboard. But there was nothing suitable in the store. Happily, everyone there was wearing a mask.
As I crossed 9W again en route to Miron Liquor, I saw that a stream of vehicles heading northbound on 9W were flying TRUMP 2020 flags. Evidently this was a pro-Trump vehicular parades, a phenomenon that might've started with boat parades among rich douchebags in Florida and Texas. Perhaps the parade had been going south-bound when I'd come off US 209, and that had been the reason for all the traffic. This was the biggest manifestion of pro-Trump sentiment I'd seen in the flesh this election season. I've barely even seen pro-Trump yard signs; they'd been everywhere four years ago, even in New York State.
Back at the house, we had a power outage soon after Gretchen returned from Woodstock, and the power stayed out until a little after 9:00pm. So we sat by the fire with the dogs, reading using the LED lamps I'd got to help with reading printed material in the bathtub.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?201101

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