Little Yurt on the Steppe

On the road to Cyberia I took a wrong turn and ended up on the Great Eastern Plains. Fortunately, a group of Khalkha nomads took me in and taught me the secrets of life on the steppe. Now, I sit in my yurt, eating mutton dumplings and drinking a weak milk tea as I recount my tales of this Mongolian life.

pátek, července 15

And in spring, more of the same

One nice thing about living in Seattle: the predictable weather pattern (namely, frequent bouts of rain) means that I don't have to tax my limited Czech vocabulary on an exercise like today's, wherein we had to describe the weather in each season where we live. I know how to say "it rains," to which I needed only to append comparative and superlative forms of "often."

Of course, the frequent showers here have made Prague seem disturbingly similar to Seattle. It'd be nice if it would just shut up already and be summer.

Actually, I shouldn't complain too much. It was sunny the past two days (unfortunately I had to spend the lion's share of yesterday in the dungeon, er, basement, babysitting the mystifying washer/dryer machines while they ostensibly cleaned my cltohes). It was even sunny the bulk of today. Unfortunately, it decided to start sprinkling in the late afternoon while I was enjoying the previously nice weather by reading on the hill in back of the dorm. I think it even stopped by the time I made it up to my room.

Yup, just like Seattle. Or Chicago for that matter. All of which is to say, most descriptions of the weather in a locale aren't so locally specific as we might think.

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