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:
   obsessive gamification
Saturday, January 16 2021
There was a sleet storm last night that continued for much of the day, though it didn't manage to leave much of an accumulation. Fortunately is was a Saturday, and we were doing what we usually do on that day of the week. The panagram in the New York Times Spelling Bee was "peaking," with "k" as the required letter, and we managed to find all but two of the words (the ones we missed by "nanking" and "kepi," neither of which we'd ever heard).
I hadn't gathered any firewood since Gretchen and I returned from Virginia, so today I went about reversing some of the depletion of the indoor woodpile. About 200 feet southeast of the Stick-Trail-Chamomile crossing, I managed to gather a smallish backpack load of chestnut oak from. It was all from fallen trees I'd picked over before. There just isn't all that much salvageable wood remaining within easy schlepping distance along the Stick Trail. Mind you, all of this is part of the obsessive gamification of my life. We have a woodshed with two year's worth of bone-dry firewood in it. But I'm seeing how long I can go before tapping it. This is already the second winter when I could've used it and haven't, restricting my firewood use to that which I collect just-in-time.

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