Why, say ye? Appropriate climate, reply I. As the British political climate breeds satire, so does our actual climate require some form of thermal compensation; some warming liquid. Scotch was already taken.
These past few summers' weather has been un-Swedish here, meaning nice. For example, two years ago, an average field on an average day would look like this:
Still pretty, in a way, yet best enjoyed from the far side of some Si-based square-ish construct; a window or a computer screen comes to mind. Something which does not convey the cutting wind, at any rate, or the constant drizzling (which doesn't really do much harm, considering you are already wet from the permanently damp air).
In this weather, we need warmth and distraction. Tea and the ceremonies surrounding it have always acted as a focal point for friendship. And as during winter we all sleep in one big bed along with our wolves, the better to keep warm, having a lot of friends are important for a variety of reasons.
To be honest, life is not so harsh here. I live in the southern-most part of this very elongated country; perhaps the mildest, dullest part of the world -- we have no natural disasters to speak of, no constantly harrowing diseases, and no wars have touched this land for about two centuries. I love dull!
And we have had some nice days this year too. Here, some sheng Pu-Erh on the windowsill:
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At the end of the day, when all is said and done, when the chips have been down in the water under some bridge for a long-ish time period, all I hope is to produce something worth reading.
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