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:
   digging a deeper trench
Friday, October 28 2022

location: 800 feet west of Woodworth Lake, Fulton County, NY

Compared to yesterday, I took more breaks from my computer to shovel sandy soil from the foundation wall of the cabin's north side in preparation to install styrofoam panels. As I proceeded westward, the soil depth of the footings was increasing. At the northeast corner, their depth was only a little more than three feet, but at the Bilco doors (a major interruption of the north foundation wall), that depth was more than five feet. I was having trouble with trench wall collapse even with a three foot trench, so I knew this would be a major problem for a five foot trench. There would also be the issue of how to get into and out of such a deep trench. So from the start, I made the trench significantly wider as it approached the Bilco doors. This would make it so there would be less dirt to remove from the sides of the ditch, much of which cascades down to the bottom and then requires more effort to remove than would've been required to remove it initially. By the time darkness arrived, there wasn't much more soil that I needed to remove before I could install styrofoam all the way down to the footers as far west as the Bilco doors.
Given the time of year and the location, is was what would be considered a unseasonably warm day. The weather forecast had predicted mostly sunny conditions this week from Thursday onward, which would be essential if I hoped to collect enough energy to drive in the Chevy Bolt to drive back to Hurley on Sunday.
Gretchen arrived from Hurley this evening in the Subaru Forester while I was up in the loft at my work-issued laptop listening to an MP3 of Guided by Voices' "Gold Star for Robot Boy" via bluetooth. "I haven't heard that in like fifteen years," Gretchen observed. Neville was nearby on the beanbag and didn't seem the least bit alarmed when the door opened and another human made an entrance.

Peck Lake viewed through the trees from the top of stone cliffs a couple hundred feet west of the cabin. Click to enlarge.

The cabin today. Note that all the leaves that had been in the trees two weeks ago are gone. Click to enlarge.

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