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:
   violent need to piss
Friday, October 1 2021

location: rural Hurley Township, Ulster County, NY

It was cool enough today to run the split in the laboratory for the first time since the end of the warm season (which hasn't technically ended yet). Later, though, it was sunny and nice outside.
Throughout the day, Gretchen and I had been communicating about what she was up to and the avaiability of various items for the cabin. On the way up to the cabin last week, I hadn't mentioned this, but we'd stopped in at a tile place in Colonie (on the edge of Albany) and wanted to pull the trigger on some rustic grey hexagonal tile they had in the show room. But then it turned out to be on backorder, so it was looking like we wouldn't have any tile for me to lay this weekend (which would've also required a working generator, since my wet saw requires 120VAC). It also seemed like there were no pedestal sinks for me to pick up in either the Hudson or Mohawk Valleys (there were none available at any of the Lowes or Home Depots we checked). But then later in the day, Gretchen called me from the road to say that she'd not only found a second source of that very same hexagonal tile (48 square feet of it anyway) in New Jersey, but she'd also found a pedestal sink, all of which she'd bought and had in her car. The plan had been for me to maybe go up to the cabin either late tonight or Saturday, but now that Gretchen had everything I would need, she decided to cancel her plan to visit Powerful in the hospital and instead come directly home, so I could leave for the cabin shortly after 5:00pm.
When Gretchen arrived, I transferred all the things for the cabin to my Subaru, where I was running so low on cargo space that I decided to strap the pedestal sink to the roof rack (alongside the long pieces of lumber I'd bought yesterday and an additional 12 foot two by eight I'd found in our garage). Then it was road-trip time for me in the dogs.
As is customary, I started drinking my first road beer at the Catskill exit, which meant I had to stop to piss at the Pattersonville travel plaza. I was so eager to piss that I actually started pissing my pants as I fought to get the shifter lever past the bulky 120 volt inverter plugged into the dashboard. I let the dogs out, of course, and they found lots of things to sniff and piss on.
My next stop was Kadco in Gloversville, where the dock-building expert had put out a cardboard box full of over $400 worth of dock-building hardware for me to pick up after hours. By then I once more had a violent need to piss, and again I started pissing my pants before I could get to a place in the shadows to relieve myself.
When I arrived at the cabin, it was all lit up from inside. John Jr., who I refer to as "the stoner plumber" (though his vibe might be a bit more "surfer" than "stoner") was there doing some last-minute plumbing work, and he also had the generator working. I'd been assured it would be, and so had brought my wet saw and some other 120 VAC equipment. Unfortunately, the generator (a 14 Kilowatt Generac model fueled by propane) was loud, considerably louder than, say, an idiling vehicle with an internal-combustion engine. John Jr. showed me how to start and stop it (one has to lift up the lid to do this), a lesson I was supposed to be getting in a more rigorous form tomorrow morning by John Sr., the man who owns the company that had built our cabin.
With the power off, I went up to the loft with the last of my second road beer to dick around in the dark with my phone until the cannabis I'd just eaten kicked in. As always, the dogs kept wanting to snuggle in ways that left me almost no room on the bed.

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