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Yesterday was 75 degrees and this is all that is left of the four foot pile of snow from earlier in the week:
I took a 20 mile bike ride, wearing biking shorts and a short sleeve shirt and still got hot!
Joe and I sat outside late in the afternoon and had cocktails and listened to music and talked. Utterly delightful!
Today is windy, cloudy and 35 degrees. False summer was great the few hours that we had it!
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listen, I love a good midwestern (American midwestern) false spring probably way more than the next person, but did we need a false summer? False springs are good for getting adjusted back to spring weather. This is not spring weather.
Knitting selfie from yesterday's unseasonably summer-like weather at our happy little gay beach.
On the needles are a pair of two-at-a-time toe up socks with Patons Kroy, because we all need some basic socks.
I’ve Been Working on Writing Some Songs
This is the first song from my forthcoming album Wisconsin Hells. It is written on the experiences of my first year of college about leaving home, social anxiety, boredom, and a longing for something else. I hope to finish all the songs by the end of the summer. I might redo the vocals but otherwise this is probably the finished product so you can expect more like this soon.
https://soundcloud.com/khanelboj/beath-sloth
The Wandering Mirage
Nasty, shimmering patches of air float along the streets in the false summers of the Neath. Strange lights sometimes dance in attendance. Far-off places can be glimpsed. Don't walk through these. There are worse places than Fallen London.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Heat and Dust / Come on in. The fog's lovely and warm.
The Neath's roughly-annual false-summer brings with it many inconveniences, not the least of which is the proliferation of damp, warm fog. It blows in off the Unterzee, when the breeze is in the right direction. Finding yourself out in it is akin to trying to walk through a hot, wet blanket. One that has recently been used to dry a hot, wet dog.
Summer of Jack
False-summer sends Jack-of-Smiles, Fallen London's most prolific murderer, just that little bit more unhinged. Who can blame him? The maddening, stinging clouds of marsh-gnats, the soupy humidity, the incessant chattering of the brightly-dressed crowds thronging the tea-houses and taverns. Not to mention the extra...temptations provided for him at the edges of said crowds, where citizens may not always be strictly sober or entirely without sin.
Summer in the Neath / Mm. Fungal ice-cream. Mmmm.
How to relieve the tedium of the warm season, when condensation drips from the roof of the cavern like a monsoon of stagnant sweat, and Fallen London smells as fresh as a week-old corpse? L.B.s can be paid to attach fans to bonnets. Pomander traders make their fortunes. But the best way of all to cool down is with a delicious fungal ice-cream. Urchin entrepreneurs with handcarts can supply everything from toadstool sorbet to frozen puffball creams. Where do they get the ice to keep their wares cold? Trust your correspondent when I assure you you do not wish to know.
