For a couple of weeks now, our temperatures have been faffing about in the 80’s F/26.6+ C, with intermittent pyrotechnics and gullywashers. I’m still in summer bed linens — top sheet and a heavy cotton spread — but night before last, it got so cold in my bedroom that I went rummaging in the blanket chest for that little fleece twin blanket that I use as a lap robe when the weather gets below-zero, two-feet-of-snow-on-the-ground cold, and put it over my side of the bed. I think it may be time to get out the waffle blanket.
In the early owls of the morning yesterday, the thermostat in the hallway said 72 F/22.2 C, and the one on the box of my desktop computer said 71 F/21.6 C which was a real eye opener, because that particular location is usually the hottest spot in the house, whether the computer is on or off. (Don’t know why. The only window in that room is covered in aluminum foil, shiny side out, to keep the sun out of my eyes and out of the house. That should make it cooler, no?) Supposed to be a high of 83 F/28.3 C tomorrow, then down into the 70’s F/21+ C again for the forecastable future. I’m in long-sleeved, mid shin cotton now. If this keeps up, I may have to start putting socks on. (The city I live in is at the same latitude as Casablanca, Morocco. Your climate challenges may vary . . . )
I have been in a kind of slow bummer for the past couple of days. The “Rememberance” for my friend BL who passed away Sunday before last was this afternoon. It was a kind of secular wake, no body, no clergy, just people sharing food, beverage and grief. My mom went with, as much out of solidarity as because I don’t do well in those sort of situations. On my part of the spectrum, emotions are very close to the surface and often quite intense. Her poor husband and daughter were practically propping each other up. He’s doing as well as can be expected for a man who has just lost the love of his life. She and her daughter were particularly close, and it’s been a steep hill for her, too.
I’ve run across another couple of those Chinese “historical fantasy” TV series, “The Untamed” and a spinoff of “L.O.R.D. Legend of Ravaging Dynasties” called L.O.R.D. Critical World. The plots are what I would call “high Wagnerian” — i.e., convoluted and involved, deadly serious in tone, and with various characters and groups of characters being put through the wringer of traumatic experiences for no apparent reason. 
The first one is the only one of them I can find with subtitles, which is really not all that much help, actually. Most of the time I have no clue who’s on first or what’s going on. But they are visually stunning in terms of hot young actors in long wigs and gorgeous costumes martial arts-ing about on fantastic sets, and who the heck cares if it makes sense or not? it’s just so “oooooh, shiny!”
I am slowly but surely being sucked into the super massive black hole that is the Outlander franchise. I’m fighting it, but it’s a loosing battle, especially the TV show, because I keep running across clips from it on YouTube featuring Lord John Grey, a character I’m kind of hooked on at the moment. In the books, Lord John is 5’6″ tall with blond hair and blue eyes. The actor (David Berry) they’ve cast to play him in the TV show isn’t. But, I know exactly why they cast him. If you could CGI him shorter, and give him blond hair and blue eyes, his looks would be as perfect as his acting. The fact that Lord John is so short, and that Jamie Fraser, the male main character, is well over 6 feet tall is part of the interpersonal dynamic between these two characters. . . . grumble. . . grumble. . . grumble. . . If I can just hold off until after Christmas, I will swan dive down that particular rabbit hole with abandon and probably go off on one long bender of binge-watching/reading. Might make having to live through an election year a whole lot less maddening/infuriating/exasperating/all of the above.
As I’ve mentioned, the main Jamie+Claire story Outlander books average out at around 300,000 words apiece. If you’re tempted by the story, but are leery of committing to reading 8 such doorstops, you might try one of the Lord John stand-alone spinoffs, which range in length from short stories, to novellas, to more manageable-sized novels, to see if you like her style of storytelling.
This just in: The BJD sweater lacks about 5 rows on the remaining sleeve and weaving in the ends to be complete. Film at 11.
And this because Steely Dan.
The Owl Underground 
The blanket weather was short-lived down here. When I got up this morning, the front had reversed course and it was 80 degrees. Still, the back-and-forthing’s a sign of things to come. Right now, we’re in line for more rain.
Whether it’s really a Swedish proverb I don’t know, but your mention of the Remembrance for your friend reminded me of something my Swedish grandmother used to say: “Shared joy is a double joy; shared sorrow is half a sorrow.” It’s true, I think, although the ‘halving’ isn’t always immediately obvious.
Love Steely Dan.
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