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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   a certain cosmic justice
Sunday, March 31 2024

location: 940 feet west of Woodworth Lake, Fulton County, NY

Supposedly Charlotte and Neville had a playdate scheduled early this afternoon in Woodstock with Vera, Pablo, and Freckles, the dogs Fern dogsat some months back at that fancy house belonging to a couple Gretchen knows through the bookstore. That playdate fell apart later today when it turned out that there was an Easter event the humans couldn't get out of. But I didn't know any of that as I drank my coffee, did what I could to get rid of leftover rice (mostly giving it to the dogs), and cleaned the cabin. I left a little before 11:00am and drove back to Hurley on the scenic route. Due to the embarrassing amount of alcohol I'd consumed over the past few days, I decided to abstain completely from it today. I didn't even drink my usual road beer (which, on the scenic route, I typically allow myself to crack open once I get to Cairo).
Conditions were much warmer in Hurley than they'd been at the cabin. It was so nice that I sat out on the chaise lounge on the edge of the driveway with the dogs as I playfully turned on various circuits remotely at the cabin to take advantage of all the extra solar energy it was getting.
It was such a nice day (and I hadn't yet taken the dogs for any walk) so I took them for a loop off the Farm Road, across the Chamomile, and then back along the Stick Trail. I quickly lost both dogs in the forest, and they ended up having some adventure on their own.
Gretchen had been having lunch at the Garden Café in Woodstock, and when she returned home, she thought we should take advantage of the beautiful weather and go for another walk. So she and I walked down the Farm Road and through Georges' property all the way to the abandoned bluestone mine. Charlotte and Neville came with us, though Neville lagged a bit and didn't quite make it the mine. Along the way, Gretchen was telling me about something she'd heard or read about the way people will move over the coming decades in response to climate change. The idea is that people will soon start fleeing the Sun Belt and move up to places like the Catskills and the Great Lakes. Perhaps, she though, Rochester, NY will be a promising new destination. This made her think that perhaps we should expand our real estate empire to there. With this in mind, she sent and email to her friend Jasmin asking if there were any good properties to buy. Immediately Jasmin sent back a listing for a $50,000 house. It looked like a complete wreck, but the price was pretty good, especially if Rochester is about to become a hot new destination for people fleeing the oppressive heat of Phoenix and Atlanta.

Perhaps it was an Easter Sunday miracle, but I noticed that there was now a big hole in Ramona's grave. Someone had excavated down a few inches and given up when he or she hit a layer of bluestone I'd placed specifically to stop such grave tampering. While it's possible Ramona has risen from the dead and will soon be appearing to me while striding upon the surface of Woodworth Lake, a more likely explanation is that a bear took advantage of the dogs' absence while we were in the Adirondacks to attempt to dig up Ramona's corpse. I don't know how delicious it would be after five winter months in the ground, but we all know bears (and, for that matter, dogs) will happily eat horrifying stuff. A bear defacing Ramona's grave has a certain cosmic justice to it, given how much misery Ramona caused to numerous bears over the course of her eleven years living on the edge of a forest.
Another interesting thing I observed in nature here on Hurely Mountain was a raven that landed in the tree a little east of our house. He was close enough for me to watch and photograph, and wow, ravens sure are weird. He did parrot-like things such as swinging upside down while hanging by his feet from a branch, as if showing off for another raven. I know ravens do amazing ærial acrobatics to impress mates, so perhaps this was just more of that.

Gretchen said she'd been making a lot of angelhair pasta while I was gone, and she went on to make some tonight as well. She flavored it with mushrooms, vegan butter, broccoli, and capers, and it was delicious.


The hole some critter dug into Ramona's grave, much like the stone being rolled aside from the tomb of Jesus Christ. Click to enlarge.


The visiting raven. Click to enlarge.


The visiting raven. Click to enlarge.


The visiting raven, hanging upside down, though it's a little hard to see. Click to enlarge.


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