Spring is sprung, the grass is rize, I wonder where the birdies is...
I went for a walk today in what I perceive as "mist" but which is in truth a vile cloud of pollution. The heat is off, and won't be conjured again until mid-November, so of course the weather took a turn for the worse and it's cold and gloomy. The rainy season starts around May: until then we'll deal with it being cold and shitty for a bit, then hot and shitty for a longer bit, then have intermittent monsoons (my view, not the weather station's) alternating with hot and steamy. I have three cotton sweaters which I can wear for the next three weeks before it becomes too damn humid to dream of wearing anything more closely woven than gauze. I remember a lovely crinkly gauze dress I had to give to a friend headed west---when the humidity rose, the fabric actually acted as a giant wick and within an hour the broomstick crinkles were gone and the dress hung limp and damp from my shoulders. I wonder why I stay--then I look at the pile of bills, and sigh, and remember that I have to pay some s#$t off before finding my freedom.
If you're headed to Beijing this spring, bring rain gear (nothing too heavy) and a thin scarf to tie over your head to you can go outdoors if there's a spring dust storm. (Not dust--sand, gritty nasty dirt, yellow in color and foul yellow in taste.)
I went for a walk today in what I perceive as "mist" but which is in truth a vile cloud of pollution. The heat is off, and won't be conjured again until mid-November, so of course the weather took a turn for the worse and it's cold and gloomy. The rainy season starts around May: until then we'll deal with it being cold and shitty for a bit, then hot and shitty for a longer bit, then have intermittent monsoons (my view, not the weather station's) alternating with hot and steamy. I have three cotton sweaters which I can wear for the next three weeks before it becomes too damn humid to dream of wearing anything more closely woven than gauze. I remember a lovely crinkly gauze dress I had to give to a friend headed west---when the humidity rose, the fabric actually acted as a giant wick and within an hour the broomstick crinkles were gone and the dress hung limp and damp from my shoulders. I wonder why I stay--then I look at the pile of bills, and sigh, and remember that I have to pay some s#$t off before finding my freedom.
If you're headed to Beijing this spring, bring rain gear (nothing too heavy) and a thin scarf to tie over your head to you can go outdoors if there's a spring dust storm. (Not dust--sand, gritty nasty dirt, yellow in color and foul yellow in taste.)
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