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The Bear & Wench drinking to a year of peace, prosperity and publishing at the newly opened Bear & Wench guest house in Libertalia.
Hej and welcome to The Bear & Wench, our brand new guest house in Libertalia. We came here to embrace the “quietude and cosiness” of hibernation season, but of course, things didn’t go to plan. The Bear had an accident and the wench took ill, so the break has not been quite as quiet and cosy as we would have liked.
Today, I’ve dragged my backside out of bed to let you know we’re thrilled to have you here. Whether you’re snuggled up in your favourite nook, or eagerly peering through a frost-laced porthole, we hope you’re ready to set sail with us tomorrow. But before we get ready to board the ship, let’s take a moment to drink to good health, creativity and camaraderie.
As usual when we meet, I’ve brought the Ship’s Log out and these are the items on the agenda today:
Today, I’m looking back at the seas we sailed, the storms we weathered, in 2023. It seems like the prudent thing to do before you turn the spyglass towards the shimmering horizon of 2024, doesn’t it? Last year was difficult in so many ways, not in the least because my health has taken a turn for the worse, and…
Do you know why bears shouldn’t drink? Neither do I, which is how I ended up in the crow’s nest singing BTS songs. Smooth like butter… It’s fine, I’ve done it before, kind of. Usually, it’s Pearl Jam but times change, and the captain said she couldn’t take another rum-inspired Evenflow, so here we are…
I love standing by a stove and performing alchemy. Onions transforming from whatever the fuck raw onions are to the absolutely divine substance they transform into with heat and oil. Isaac Newton didn’t need to transform lead into gold to master alchemy, he just needed to get into the damn kitchen. And yet, many people, too many people…
Time is dying. Those were the words that lured Jeremiah Jesus, an American translator with a haunted past, into the eerie silence of an abandoned ship on Lac Leman. Adrift in the cold winter night, he reflects on the chain of dubious decisions that brought him here. If only he’d listened to his Mama Grace…
SO IS IT MYS OR
DO YOU MEAN HYGGE?
GIVE MY SIMPLE RATING SYSTEM A GO
LET’S TALK ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE
Next Port of Call…
Time to bed down for the night and read my sweet bear a bedtime tale.
Now it’s time for me to read my sweet bear his bedtime tale, a nightly ritual that we both cherish deeply. (Although he’s normally the one doing the reading.) As I go to tuck him in, I pass the quill to our Ship’s Belle who will be here in two weeks’ time to regale you with tales of her own.
Don’t forget, as we sail through the starlit seas, that our stories are the winds that fill our sails, and our dreams the compass that guides us. Until we meet again, whether at sea or on socials, we wish you fair winds and following seas.
Puss & Kram,
//Linnea & (a still very drunk) Leto 🖤🏴☠️
Image Cred: All bear and ship images were made by Leto Armitage in MidJourney. Time is Dying and January WIP were made by Linnea Lucifer/Äppelpaj in Canva Pro. Cooking photos from our private archives.
BOOKS BY LETO ARMITAGE
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