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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got that wrong
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Like my brownhouse:
   somewhat watered-down Dolly Parton
Thursday, August 17 2023

location: rural Hurley Township, Ulster County, NY

Gretchen has a friend from the poetry and animal rights world named N who has been going through a painful divorce with her wife. Normally N isn't in this area, but she has been this week, and today she came over to our house to spend most of the afternoon with Gretchen. They would end up going over to Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary (which, as with the storied Woodstock music festival of 1969, isn't all that close to the village of Woodstock. While there, Gretchen would meet up with the young black vegan man she'd met on the bus the other day. I also got to meet N and was a little unprepared for how prim, manicured, and, dare I say, artificial, she is. She reminded me of a somewhat watered-down Dolly Parton, and not in a good way. As with Dolly Parton, N is from the south (Louisville, in fact) and knew Jenny, the founder of the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary, back when they were both teens. I don't know what word N used to describe Jenny from those days, but it was basically something like "hillbilly gangsta."
While Gretchen and N were out doing those things, I went back and forth between applying for jobs (which LinkedIn makes really easy, which in turn suggests nobody will see those applications) and rearranging things in the garage, particularly those luan doors, which I dragged out. I thought maybe I'd have to cut them up and burn them, but Gretchen eventually put them up on Hudson Valley Buy Nothing (formerly known as "FreeCycle") and got two strong nibbles from people who actually wanted them.
When Gretchen and N got back from there adventures, N went on her way and Gretchen and I loaded up the dogs and some provisions and drove to the Adirondack cabin. I was drinking some old coffee with ice cubes in it, and this forced me to make an emergency piss stop at the Pattersonville rest area. (I had peanut jars with me and could've used one of those, but I'm pretty sloppy at that when I'm driving and didn't want Gretchen to see me get piss all over the driver's seat, which sometimes happens.)
It was about to get dark when we arrived at the cabin, so there wasn't much for me to do there except inspect the trenches around the cabin (the ones in which I am installing or have installed insulation) for any necessary erosion remediation (none was required).


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?230817

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