Sogsville

The summer monsoon season has officially arrived, according to the trusty folk at the Korean Meteorological Administration. Actually, it arrived yesterday, four days earlier than it reared its highly humid head last year. For us, this means some treadmill running, laundry that won't totally dry, the very pleasant smell of foliage, and honing our skills at wading through a sea of umbrellas.

Greatest. Day. Ever.

Well, greatest school day ever - hands down. As our final field trip, uh, educational sojourn, three teachers and nine students visited Lotte World, a strange amalgam of ersatz Disney and local flair. With rides and games both inside a giant mall, then outside on Magic Island, great times were had by all. When you factor in the gratis Turkish kebabs and ice cream provided by the uncle of one of my students, and the genuine wonder and thrill on the faces of nine, ten, and thirty-six year olds, it seems an ideal way to wrap the school year.

Street Commerce

Here is further evidence to support my theory that if you wander far enough in this city, there's nothing you can't purchase from a roving vendor.

Sunday Afternoon

Luckily, Lee has found a new friend - one who, after a long morning exploring the Han River pathways, appreciates a midday nap as much as he does.

Veni. Vidi. Edi.

I believe it was Marcus Fabius Quintilian, everyone's favourite first century Roman rhetorician, who declared "That which prematurely arrives at perfection soon perishes." After finding my first Asian package of Toffifee in a swanky department store last night, then having an empty box to recycle moments later, I must concur.

Guess who's coming to dinner?

Next weekend sees us dog-sitting for Sean and Amber, as they head south to Busan to enjoy one of their few weekends left in Korea. Our temporary roomie is Kung ah gee, a four month old beagle with a wild side. We have been forewarned about his prolific nibbling proclivities, and will spend the next week puppy-proofing our apartment. This will likely include putting shoes in the cupboard, moving our First Folio to a higher bookshelf, and devouring my extensive "Beef Jerkies of the World" collection.

In other news, I noticed from our blog post counter that this is number 250. While we have taken some heat recently about our periodic posting of late, let us remind you that this is OOFALWO, not E(very)D(ay)OFALWO, and with 250 posts in 67 weeks, we are averaging 3.7313 entries per week, more than once every two days. When you factor in the stats I'm about to make up (average lifespan of a blog - 13.84 weeks; average number of postings per week - 1.67; average windspeed in the Seoul metropolitan area - 11.29 km/hour), we're sure that something accounts for other things.

Hey Man, Nice Bag

We here at OOFALWO love a good portmanteau as much as the next blog, but lately a particularly virulent example has begun to assail our sensibilities, and the time is now to speak out. So we ask, dear Reader, why the murse? Sure, men sometimes need to carry more than will fit in their pockets. In fact, I'm rarely seen without a novel, a notebook, and an umbrella in a bag slung over my shoulder, à la Jack Bauer. But lines must be drawn, clutches must be kiboshed, and Birkins need be banished lest all mankind devolve into an accessory melange of portability and haute couture.