The wave of heat has been with us for two days and we are delighted with it. Welcome heat. Welcome wave. It’s a particularly good combination because at night the temperate falls and it’s not unbearable.
Or it may be the case that we are simply defrosting from the past six months of chilly puddling and therefore cannot gain any actual sense of the temperature because we’ve been so frozen. Who would actually know at this point what’s unbearably hot as we’ve become fluent in unbearably overcast.
Yesterday (Sunday) it was scorching at 4pm. I gave thanks and scorched along with it.
My only concern now is that of thunderstorms and what they lead to — the dreadful forest fires.
Sources tell me there was an hour long discussion on BC Almanac on the weather today. I am ashamed to say I missed it. Such is the nature of my present life my weather forecasting or weather watching has been derailed.
Oh glory, oh grief how we are challenged by our current weather! It is so ridiculously dark outside today and grim that I must insist to myself there’s something unbeknownst to discover from it. It’s like a set of bricks on the eyelids from indoors, just misery inducing.
To wit, in the spirit of Our Woman, I shall not be sunk and shall up and out into it rather than remain surly in retreat.
I have daily reports of similar weather elsewhere. I was only remarking yesterday to a correspondent on the incredible power of the weather to do our heads in. I maintain tho’ it needs to be embraced, even tho’ I am not a great example of such today.
I noted a sharp wind ouside just now when I pulled in the washing off the line. I was surprised at the chill in it and checked the weather station which claims an 8 degrees. But there was something enlivening in it after a particularly draining day. An encore quality. The reward for carrying on. Must remember to dip out and take note of night weathers and temperatures, they can be so satisfying.
Great night at the Little Tokyo in the Industrial Playground opening at the Firehall Arts Centre — Go see Jeremy Isao Speier’s installation, it looks amazing in that space. Thanks to everyone for the discourse on the Rolf Knight extracts I read. I really enjoyed thinking about our city’s industrial playgrounds and their eradication. I hope some kind of collaborative essay series may emerge out of our discussion.
Now it’s time to cook a frozen curry.
The wail for the coach Peggy to plod onto the ice and help me get back up. You needed longer arms for the task than I possess. However eventually I figured out a method with feet. So much fun this sport!
Here’s the flu report for week 47 (this week): the Perth flu strain is whipping it this week. (Why are the strains thus named I wonder?)
Since the start of the season, the National Microbiology Laboratory (NML) has antigenically characterized 12 influenza viruses (seven A/H3N2 and five B). All seven A/H3N2 viruses (from BC, AB & ON) are antigenically related to A/Perth/16/2009. Three of the influenza B viruses characterized (from AB & QC) are antigenically related to the vaccine strain B/Brisbane/60/2008 (Victoria lineage). The other two influenza B viruses (from BC) are antigenically related to the reference virus B/Wisconsin/01/2010-like, which belongs to the Yamagata lineage
source: Flu Watch
Well I have been waiting on this Weds the 16th for the promised temperature plunge and yes, the radar has delivered. It was cold indeed today. Especially this morning then around lunch the temp climbed and the rains fell.
Tonight’s overnight low however is a balmy 6 degrees, considerably higher than what was forecast 14 days ago, which was -2. Still a very vague chance of flurries on Friday (wha?!) and a bit of dip again on Saturday, but we seem trapped between two systems right now and weather cannot quite make up her mind.
This week we had some beautiful days after that storm blew through. Cold yes, but oh so sunny and blue.
Here’s the link to Bloodied But Unbowed where you can, courtesy of the Knowledge Network, watch this documentary on Vancouver’s early punk history.
My curiosity was piqued by the woman sat on the bonnet of her car who described wanton verbal abuse and physical assaults in response to looking like or appearing to be a punk. I’ve been asking friends about this, since it’s hard to reconcile these descriptions with city life at present. It’s often difficult to get anyone to respond to you in some parts of the city. Good morning or hello seems to put the fear of God and instant eye-aversion from people passing…
As one friend put it “There was a time when a haircut meant something…”
That is not to suggest a return to the habit of people getting verbally abused and bashed in for having a particular haircut, music taste and tight black jeans or being sprinkled with safety pins. More to observe a contrast in conduct and examine where or how that has been recorded.
I think this may be our most middling Autumnal day. The leaves are droopy with despair.
They remain on the turn. They’re at the halfway point now so you can look at a long line of them and see the beginning, middle, and end of the leaves colour changes. I had never noticed before how the timing can differ between them.
Hmmm. The longer term forecast suggests the delivery of several large parcels of arctic air.
It’s bizarre to see the graphics show a warmer orange colour for the Maritimes and a bold blue for BC! On va voir….
The leaves are on the turn. I noticed the start of it the other evening. Mustard-yellowing and a bit of saffron red appearing. Sun too. It’s funny to see people wearing bright red wellies at 5pm having set out in a rainy morning to work and left to home to discover A. N. Other on the way home.
The rest of the West Coast world audaciously announced yesterday as the last day of summer, whereas here at Literature et Folie the Autumn season is already four days underway.
A CBC report (what-do-they-know-wha?) declared the summer passed a “bummer summer”. What a ludicrous assertion, on what basis? On the basis of assumption. The assumption of what summer must be. It was certainly not a “bummer summer” rather it was a moody summer season with pronounced independent thinking and bouts of non conformity and an impressive last minute “up do”. The only mildly inconvenient aspect of it was the late start to the growing season, but my garden was suffering from drowning by peat so I think my peat flooding was more of a problem than the lack of sun.
I have to check the winter forecasts, the last time I looked they were predicting colder than normal temperatures for the Wesssst and warmer than normal elsewhere.
I am heartened by the arrival of our atmospheric rains. They are so temperate thus far. I am awaiting the first fog eagerly.
Nothing quite so reliable as the insomniac’s weather report!
At 1.07am if you were in the land of slumber I am pleased to report for you it was raining. And a most excellent rain it was too, coming as it did after the 27 degree scorcher of a day. (The employment of the gerund in this sentence is an absolute disservice to the quality and verve of the rain, but the insomniac weather report cannot focus on guitar solo grammar and must remain attentive instead to the finery of nabbing what you are sensibly missing by being asleep).
This is a fresh camping rain without the pain and discomfort of needing to go camping. This rain possesses a sense of contentment rather than entitlement… (the insomniac’s weather report is permitted to give the weather human qualities, since slumbering humans are not awake to dispute it).
A rain of convenience and I repeat finery. A fresh cross breeze included. The kind of breeze a random doorway smoker could absolutely destroy if they stood beneath your window.
I have been blessed yet again by tripping over literary treasure. This time a 12 cent copy of a book called Lifetime by Scott Sommer. It is sharp, short fiction. No one I’ve asked remembers him. (But those I’ve asked do not live in Brooklyn where perhaps he’s v well remembered) He died of a heart attack at 42. This book was published in (well it lists several dates so am thinking it must be a third printing, the dates offered are 78, 81 and 86. Sommer was a writer who certainly embraced new ways of cutting up his sandwiches. The form of these stories is lively and innovative.
Lori Weidenhammer performing one of two of her responses at the Performance Art Cabaret @ The Waldorf.
My Unit/Pitt residency project: Rereading the Riot Act. Vancouver 2011.
In 1935 the weather forecast was given a regal column and divided into three parts. (Or it sat above these other two sections this scan is v hard to read)
The Tides (including graphics that epxlained the moon?)
It was a 36 hour forecast that was given including barometric pressure predictions. On this particular Monday in April maybe the 27th date is missing) Vancouver and vincinity — Strong winds or gales, mostly East with South, mild with rain.
The weather forecast also included a section entitled Synopsis. Tomorrow I will share the synopsis with you.
School report cards increasingly remind me of real estate appraisals in their contractual language and measurement. No leak, nor tweak, nor inconvenience, the categorizations of both insist.
And yet how people flock and click to watch TED Talks. Let it be know the TED talkers are often mighty uneven and celebrated for it.
“A Class 1 hurricane-strength windstorm is expected to slam into the entire B.C. coast Wednesday morning.
Environment Canada issued a severe weather alert Tuesday for the coast and immediate inland sections, including Metro Vancouver and the Fraser Valley”
Mrsokana or Mrs Oskana as she’s occasionally renamed, your trusty literary weather forecaster, will obviously be in residence keeping an eye out and providing reports, gust par gust.
Hold onto your bonnets, boil the kettle & tie down anything that rattles…
One of the good things about insomnia is, occasionally, during a bout, a weather event is glimpse-able
I am able to report at 2.14am there is a significant fog event underway in Vancouver.
It has already settled in around the lamp posts and coddled its way over the light, lessening the orange from it significantly.
Would I rather be asleep than making these observations? Perhaps and yet no. I’d rather be asleep with these observations.