“Well, of course I’ve tried lavender. And pulling my memory out, ribbonlike and dripping. And shrieking into my pillow. And writing the poems. And making more friends. And baking warm brown cookies. And therapy. And intimacy. And pictures of rainbows. And all of the movies about lovers and the terrible things they do to each other. And watching the ones in other languages. And leaving the subtitles off. And listening to the language. And forgetting my name. And feeling the dirt on my skin. And screaming in the shower. And changing my shampoo. And living alone. And cutting my hair. And buying a turtle. And petting the cat. And traveling. And writing more poems. And touching a different body. And digging a grave. And digging a grave. Of course, I’ve tried it. Of course I have.”
This carrot cake recipe got me wondering why I never make it in any season but winter, and I think I just enjoy accentuating the change of seasons by making little things season-specific. Of course going from summer to autumn means wearing a different part of my wardrobe, but I like to rotate lots of other things too, like arbitrary foods (carrot cake is winter-only, so are crêpes) or books (some genres are for spring, or autumn). At the start of a new season I have a few seasonal reads that I’ve been putting aside all year and can’t wait to dive into, and it creates a double layer of anticipation—in late summer I’m looking forward to enjoying my autumn books or foods, while also looking forward to next summer’s fruit pies and the summer books I haven’t had time to start this year. I have seasonal playlists too, and all of this renews my appreciation of things that I’ve been doing / eating / listening to for a long time and would otherwise get tired of; they feel fresh and delightful when I finally get to enjoy them again after a year. It also ends up charging arbitrary things with a seasonal mood, so in the midst of winter blues I can get a pleasant summery feeling by exceptionally making my summertime tea…
james bond is a chad with virgin energy. not sure if this holds up but sometimes it’s just nice to tap out some words and make a post. good way of staying in touch with friends online. not to mention the dopamine rush when the likes start clicking over.
I was just about to post this (helpfully labelled) scorpion from the Ortus sanitatis, so not only are you not bothering me, you actually have pretty great timing!
Amazingly, not the least threatening scorpion illustration I’ve encountered, an honour which goes to these little guys:
[British Library, Harley MS 3244, fol. 64r]
Fact-wise, Edward Topsell provides a wealth of information about scorpions in his Historie of Serpents:
Scorpions come in 7 flavours: white, reddish, pale, greenish, blackish-pale, Crab & honey.
The association with crabs is so strong that Pliny says scorpions are born whenever a crab dies and washes up on a beach.
In fact, it’s so easy to generate a scorpion that they also grow from rot, crocodile eggs, basil, the brains of people who smell too much basil, dead basilisks & “corrupt” rainwater.
A scorpion’s greatest joy in life is to wash itself all over with its tongue and then roll around in clean linen:
[They have also tongues, wherewithall they use often to lick and smooth over their own bodies. And seeing of all other things they love fresh and clean linnen, whereinto they insinuate, and wrap themselves when they can come unto it, then also first of all they cleanse their whole bodies all over with their tongues, and next to their flesh put on this clean linnen, as a man would put on a shirt.]
dreamed that kindergarten nap was called sleep class and everybody went to sleep including the teacher. if you were awake it would get a little bit foggy outside and grey and cloudy, and these guys would start approaching the classroom from behind the tree line (forgive my shitty phone drawing)
and they were at least a story tall, some of them were taller, you could see their legs over the trees. they would approach very slowly. this one (the one i drew) had a name for some reason, his name is kick.
before i was totally awake my brain conjured a meme of a bunch of these guys approaching from the treeline and a child watching from the window with the caption “when you the only one awake in sleep class 😂😳😏”
