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:
   not a good clean smell
Tuesday, January 31 2023
Yesterday I used the handtruck to bring home a couple large chunks from the fallen red oak west of the Farm Road (those were the last remaining pieces of the trunk of that tree). For a long-dead tree, the wood is surprisingly damp. But I've been splitting it up and drying it successfully on the stove top, and after hours there, the wood is often dry enough to add to the indoor woodpile. Today I went west of the Farm Road to carry home some thinner pieces, some of which were still thick enough to suggest splitting once I'd cut them into stove-length pieces (something I did today using a brand new chainsaw blade; that was nice). Nevertheless, I'm winding down firewood salvaging operations, as I only have a few days left in the United States and the indoor firewood supply is plenty big. Mostly all I do now is worry over the pieces of wood drying on the top of the woodstove, which I tend like a restless bird with a nest full of eggs.
This afternoon, I holed up with the dogs and cats in the laboratory while a pair of Hispanic women cleaned the house. Despite Gretchen's attempts to get them to use something else, they always use an unpleasant-smelling soap (it smells like Murphy's Oil Soap) that makes the house outside the laboratory not the kind of place I want to be in. Now I'm at the point in my life where I'm complaining about the smell of the soap used by the hired help.
Gretchen got back from NYC around 5:00pm and the stank from the cleaning ladies' soap had yet to dissipate.

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