All right we’re back on track now! Just in time for our brief period of summer sun to give way to a forecast of two weeks of rain. Here’s hoping nobody else dies.
In other news I was reminded that I blogged here in…entry 5, 100 years ago that I bought This is How You Lose the Time War after some internet shenanigans. I thought you should know that I tried reading it and didn’t like it at all. I bought it because I love Trigun, I couldn’t finish it because I don’t like Trigun: Stampede.
One more piece of important news that I’m sure you don’t want to miss: Scruffy McFluffers, my foster cat, has finally gotten his shave. I’ve been trying to get it for him since the spring because he gets so terribly matted.
I tried to post a before and after photo but WordPress thinks my photos are too nice and huge and won’t upload them, so I guess you’ll have to just subscribe to my Patreon to see my very fluffy cat all naked.
Maybe it’s not smart to talk about cats on this blog because I will not shut up about cats.
Meanwhile, Mina is fretting about her fiancé again. Her wife is about to get a husband and it’ll be all wrong if they ruin the symmetry.
Mina remarks that her old sailor friends are saying a storm is nigh. She writes beautiful passages about the scenery which is so pretty that it seems clear now that Stoker has actually been to Whitby, unlike Transylvania. Then again, maybe Jonathan did write so lovingly about the scenery and Romania and I just forgot, but I prefer the idea that Mina is just a better writer than Jonathan.
Mina breaks in her writing as Mr Swales comes to talk. She’s very touched by his kindness as she writes in quotes his dialect again as he apologizes for scaring her.
We aud folks that be daffled, and with one foot abaft the krok-hooal, don’t altogether like to think of it, and we don’t want to feel scart of it; an’ that’s why I’ve took to makin’ light of it, so that I’d cheer up my own heart a bit.
I think Mina would make a great folklorist.
Mr Swales says he’s gonna drop dead any minute and is cool with it because he’s old as shit, but then he points out something in the fog off the shore.
“There’s something in that wind and in the hoast beyont that sounds, and looks, and tastes, and smells like death. It’s in the air; I feel it comin’. Lord, make me answer cheerful when my call comes!”
Mr Swales prays and then walks off, leaving Mina shook. After he goes Mina talks with the coast guard, who looks out into the water at a ship in the fog. He notes that she’s Russian and moving strangely. “We’ll hear more of her before this time tomorrow.”
Or maybe by around 10am my time, which is when they send out the Dracula Daily emails.