A mold, cold Catch-22

So here’s something interesting: a house needs to be well-ventilated, or it will grow mold like that’s its dirty business.

Last November, the three of us were concerned with our heating bills, so we went out and bought plastic for our windows, new door sweeps, etc. to seal up our house.

Sealing the house definitely helped: it was noticeably warmer, and our energy bills were much lower than the previous occupants.

But since then, it’s been a constant battle against mold.

This wasn’t a problem at the old house, but here’s the difference: the last house had forced-air, gas heating. Which means that furnace brought in fresh air from outside (which, until just now, seemed terribly inefficient), heated it, and pushed it throughout the house.

The current house has electric base-board heaters. Moog rigged the fireplace with a thermostat, so the fireplace provides most of our heating–but it heats air from inside the house.

So it’s a kinda funny, and under recognized Catch-22. A house needs fresh air. But if your house isn’t sealed tight in the winter, your heating bills are going to be astronomical. But if you’re not getting fresh air in, like through a forced-air system, you’re going to subject yourself to the ill health effects of living in a moldy environment.

What’s the solution? It’s hard to say. But here’s my best guess: insist on living in a house with forced-air heating. And, baring that, plan on regularly airing out your house. Baring that, stock up on the antibiotics–‘cuz you’re going to need them!

Spring Break Pictures – San Juan River etc.

Yup. So … Spring Break was fun. Didn’t do a blessed thing for nine days straight–at least, nothing school related.

Actually I did quite a lot! Let’s see… floated 58 miles in five nights and five days. Hiked through canyons and up trails. Got a sun tan. Got a sun burn. Read some Ed. (Abbey, of course.) Waged war against sobriety. Won some battles. Lost the war. Crushing defeat. Rowed a red boat. Decided to become a geologist. Rowed a blue boat. Sang some songs. Debated the ethical implications of touching rock art (“Sight is the only sense that creates physical space between viewer and object. Touch closes this gap, creates a connection with the art and artist…”). Ruined more than one perfectly delightful conversation with economic reductionism (“the free market SOLVES! for EVERYTHING!”). Decided not to become a geologist. Contemplated the stars. Gathered driftwood. Roasted one single marshmallow. Avoided introspection. Dug holes in the sand. Filled them in…

Oh. And I took some pictures. Check ’em out!

From Spring Break 2009 – San Juan River

I hope everyone else had an equally marvelous and sun-drenched spring break!

Down the River!

Yaar! Off to the San Juan River! Huzzah! Out of contact till Saturday, the … 21st. Pics and details when I return! If you need anything … smoke signals! Carrier pigeons! ESP! Those are your options!

Garnet Cabin 2009!

Consider the plight, if you will, of Gary, the out-house mouse…

From 2009.02.24 Garnet Lookout 2009


Bovard, Christina and I made good use of our weekend, hiking in to the Garnet Lookout Cabin.

Click on the above photo to see the album.

Definitely one of those routine trips where a combination of poor planning (see: leaving Bozeman about six hours late …) and bad luck (see: losing the trail, in the dark) and hubris (see: “What-ev! We don’t need no trail. We’ll make our OWN trail!”) makes the unremarkable into an epic.

Here’s Bovard, rippin’ gnar like Narnia on his sick tube…

Good times!

please allow me to take this moment to indulge my adhd

So, like 30 seconds ago, I was using a napkin to wipe the dried beer stains off the top of my laptop (how did THOSE get there?) and I was listing to the Mountain Goats, and I thought to myself, “man, I should really post this on my blog. Using lots of … passive verbs. Was. Is.”

So there I am … using a wet napkin to wipe stale beer stains off my laptop, listening to The Mountain Goats. There’s something cooking on the stove, and something burning, too. What’s burning is the chunks of last night’s dinner that spilled on to and under the burner. What’s cooking is … Chicken Ramen Noodles. Yup. That’s right.

So … Chris calls me a “faketarian.” I don’t think that’s quite fair … but I can’t deny that, right now, I’m sipping on a steaming bowl of steaming Ramen. Mmm. It tastes extra good because … I’m pretty sure it’s Bovard’s Ramen.

Here’s a riddle: What tastes better than MSG?

Answer: Stolen MSG!

*tissh!*-*dun*-*dup!*

Did you know? If you spill the “Chicken Flavor” spice package from a package of Ramen, it sparks and looks really cool? I definitely recommend trying this at home.

But I really don’t feel that eating a bowl of Ramen makes me a faketarian. Especially because my premise isn’t so much that “meat is murder” so much as … the meat industry produces more greenhouse gasses than all the transportation industries combined (Cars! Planes! Trains! Automobiles! … Tanks! … Rickshaws! … …).

And, moreover … the Chicken Flavor packet doesn’t actually have any meat in it. “Chicken Powder” isn’t meat, is it? No more than … snow is water? Besides … Chicken Powder is ingredient number five in the list. What’s number two? … Yup! That’s right: monosodium glutamate.

Suddenly, I don’t feel so well.

So … I went to the dentist this morning. Arriving home afterwards, half my face is numb (intentionally, mind you. I swear … my dentist seemed mighty disappointed when he didn’t find oil … all that drilling and all …).

Weird things: 1) When I splashed water on my face in the shower, only half of my face got wet. 2) When I drank from a cold bottle, the bottle and liquid on one side was actually warm. 3) The texture of pickle skin against my teeth still bothered me.

Last thing, before I go to class (drat! I haven’t done any of the reading! I’ve been to busy … blogging?)

So, I’m sitting in computer science class yesterday (yup … you read that right. CS class.) and this girl opens the set of doors at the front of the lecture hall, looks in, clearly sees that there’s a class going on. THEN, she casually walks straight across the front of the room–between the Prof and the 50 people in the lecture hall–up the side aisle, and out the back door. During the middle of lecture. For no reason at all!

Needless to say, I’m still flabbergasted.

And now I’m nearly late to class. !!