MSF&T Adventures #11

Sorry for the late posting, been out of town.

Without further ado:


MSF&T Adventures #10

Pub day announcement!

I have actually completed all the pages for the comic!

The comic will continue to pub every other Monday, with the final page pubbing December 31st, 2018. It began pubbing January 1st, 2018, so I am aesthetically quite pleased.

Now, without further ado – here is the next installment!

Southern Goth in a Northern Town-April 2018: Four Actual Seasons

“March – in like a lion, out like a lamb, or vice-versa”

“April showers bring May flowers”

So I’m wondering what March snow means. Is that a lion or a lamb? And what does April snow bring? Not May flowers, I figure.

Not that I’m complaining. I vastly prefer snow to miserable, cold rain. If we could skip that part of Spring, I’d be fine with it. Honestly, though, I think maybe we did skip the March rain in favor of snow this year. It’s been odd.

Der Mann has said that he has enjoyed living here because he gets to experience four distinct seasons again. I then give him A Look.

To be sure, I like the idea of four distinct seasons; in the South, we get summer, and what we call winter, but which is really just a dreary, colorless autumn with the trees leafless. We rarely get freezing temps, and even more rarely do we get snow. If it goes below forty degrees, you’ll see us Southerners in parkas, boots, scarves, hats, and gloves.

We’re used to heat.

So living in the North has been a revelation to me. There’s definitely summer heat, but the summer humidity is about half (sometimes even less!) what I’m used to having. It’s strange to go outdoors in July and not be gasping for air. Seriously, July in Georgia feels like trying to breathe through a wet wool blanket.

Spring here is a misery. To be sure, there are spring storms in the South – tornadoes and hurricanes, along with the rolling thunderstorms and daily afternoon showers, and these are not always pleasant. But the rain is rarely cold, and if you love storms like I do, a Spring storm in the South is a fantastic chance to go out and dance in the rain. However, Northern Spring is torrential rain that is cold and hard and gets under your wraps and into your bones. Personally, I find a Northern Spring much harder to tolerate than a Northern Winter.

Then comes Autumn. I love Autumn anywhere I am, North or South, East or West. I will say, though, that in the North you get a much better (and longer) autumn season. It cools off sooner, and the tree leaves turn colors weeks before they go bare for the winter, so you have time to actually enjoy them. There are still leaves in the trees during October, so The Best Holiday comes in Halloween colors. Glorious.

Winter brings the snow, and by now we know how I love the snow. People up here complain non-stop about it, and I still get weird looks when I run to the windows to watch the snow fall. But it’s so beautiful, and beauty should never be taken for granted. And doesn’t everyone love a White Christmas?

So that’s my take on the seasons: I like Northern Winters, Southern Springs, Autumn everywhere, and Summer nowhere.

Southern Goth in a Northern Town-March 2018: Beagles

I had planned to write about seasons this month, it being March and somehow, we’re still getting snow. But some things have happened that made me change my topic, and honestly, the seasons can be addressed at any time. Right now, I want to talk about beagles.

Specifically, Snoopy. Or snoopies – the plush ones – and I want to tell you why.

This blog is late. I’m writing it on the day it should have published – I should have had this post completed days ago and queued up. But I didn’t.

I didn’t because one of my friends – one of my best friends, in fact – lost her mother last week. And this week, I traveled to Cincinnati, along with Der Mann, Herself, Lady Strange, and Tee, to be there for SnoopyGrrl, like she and Herself and Lady Strange and Der Mann were there for me when I lost my mother, almost five years to the day that SnoopyGrrl lost hers.

It’s been a very rough week, with a lot of tears and heartache. But there has also been laughter with the tears, and much of that laughter involved beagles.

SnoopyGrrl’s mother (Sweetie) was an avid collector of Peanuts memorabilia, especially all things Spike. She passed that love on to SnoopyGrrl, along with a talent for puppetry that would stun Jim Henson. They collect the plush beagles, and each one has a name and a distinct personality, which you may dismiss as not such a big deal until you realize that there are over…oh, I don’t even know how many there are. I’d say two to three hundred, easy, and that count may be low.

There were often gifts and letters and notes from “the pups” for SnoopyGrrl while we were in college. Visits to Cinci always included time spent with Chief, Sweetie, and the pups, especially Spike and Belle (who attended college with us as SnoopyGrrl’s companion beagle). Belle instigated much mischief during college, including sneaking out of SnoopyGrrl’s room to hang out in the room I shared with Herself, or instigating games of hide-and-seek, which would leave SnoopyGrrl searching for Belle for, well, minutes at least (SnoopyGrrl usually figured out quickly that Belle was hiding in our room). I like to think that perhaps Belle has taken a few bits from us (myself, Herself, Lady Strange, and Tee) as she’s developed over the years. To be sure, she isn’t quite the wide-eyed, naive beaglette she was before Converse!

As these things always seem to grow, each of us ended up with a companion beagle of our own. Mine is Lucrezia, and she is, of course, a Goth beaglette. Her bestie is Belle, SnoopyGrrl’s longtime companion beagle. Belle is free-spirited and mischievous, while Lucrezia is a bit more formal and a lot more bossy. Together, they are a force for mischief.

And somewhere in here, I meant to spend more time paying tribute to Sweetie, instead of talking about the beagles themselves. But perhaps this is the tribute: seeing the beagles as their own persons, living the personas she gifted them. Sweetie made them real; she will always be part of them, and as long as we have our beagles, she’ll be with us.