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Queen Victoria reportedly loathed July. Diaries mention her melancholy during the month, often reminiscing about cozy winter court rituals. Some historians believe she staged off-season winter pageants to escape the heat. A proto–Christmas in July? #FairyTaleTuesday

Where we are in summer vacation: Just threatened my 11 and 13-year-olds with daycare. Real daycare. With naps, lukewarm milk, and finger painting. They didn’t flinch. I think they miss structure. Had to reschedule a client call with a guy in Ireland—who is actually Scottish—so

In the Táin Bó Cúailnge, Ireland’s greatest cattle raid becomes a war epic. Queen Medb invades Ulster to steal a prize bull, triggering bloodshed, prophecy, and single combat. A saga of pride, beasts, and battle. #LegendaryWednesday

Sweat was sacred in Mesoamerica. It poured during rituals, ballgames, and battle. The temazcal (sweat lodge) purified the soul by simulating the Earth’s heat. To sweat was to burn out the demons. In some cultures, the hotter you are, the holier you become. #WyrdWednesday

The Pig War of 1859 saw the U.S. and Britain nearly go to battle over the shooting of a pig (and a boundary dispute). A single hog eating potatoes on San Juan Island almost sparked an international war. No humans died. The pig, however, RIP. #LegendaryWednesday

An old campfire story from Oklahoma: A drifter once claimed he walked across a sun-scorched plain where the shadows moved slower than him. He said the heat had teeth, and it was chewing on time itself. He made it to town. His shadow never did. #WyrdWednesday

The Zulu’s Impi formation used a "buffalo horn" strategy: two flanks encircled while the center charged. Spear, shield, speed, and terrain mastery made it one of the fiercest ground strategies of the 19th century. #LegendaryWednesday

In the Dust Bowl days, old-timers said the sun wasn’t right anymore; that it was too close, too white, like it had lost its mercy. Crops turned to powder, cows birthed dust, and folks hung wet sheets in windows just to pretend the world was still soft. #WyrdWednesday

"He is a skin-changer. He changes his skin; sometimes he is a huge black bear, sometimes he is a great strong black-haired man with huge arms and a great beard. I cannot tell you much more, though that ought to be enough." - J. R. R. Tolkien, "The Hobbit" #BookologyThursday

In Finnish mythology, Väinämöinen sails through cosmic waters in search of wisdom. His boat, carved from song and spell, drifts through the dreamlike terrain between the mortal and the divine. A journey not of distance, but of transformation. #FolkloreThursday Art: Gallen-Kallela

From Chilean lore comes the tale of El Caleuche, a ghost ship that sails the southern seas near Chiloé. Manned by witches and the drowned, it appears in mist to abduct travelers. It is both a journey and a prison, cloaked in song and sorcery. #FolkloreThursday Art: Feig-Art

Icelandic folklore, travelers crossing lava fields had to watch for huldufólk. If disrespected, these invisible beings could lead you astray for days. Some never returned, vanishing into rock and mist. Always greet the land when you enter. #FolkloreThursday Art: George Pearson

In old Maine tales, a Witch Wind can follow a traveler home if they don’t cross themselves at the right bend in the road. The wind whispers your name. If you answer? It slips inside your coat. And it never stops following. #FolkloreThursday Art: Olga Tsyhypko

#BookologyThursday 🎭 #BookchatWeekly On March 4, 2025, New Orleans’ annual Mardi Gras sparkles with #HarlequinMasks 🎭, their checkered patterns weaving Cajun and Creole folklore into the city’s vibrant celebration. In Mamou’s Courir de Mardi Gras, a real folktale tells of a

In Texas, the Lady of White Rock Lake flags down drivers near the water’s edge, soaked and shivering. She asks for a ride and then vanishes from the back seat. Her ghost is said to belong to a young woman who drowned decades ago. Her journey never ends. #FolkloreThursday

Down in Appalachia, crossroads spirits are said to linger where dirt paths meet. Travelers speak of hearing fiddle music in the dark, sweet and dangerous. If you meet someone at a crossroads at midnight, don't shake hands. It might be more than a deal. #FolkloreThursday

Forget parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. Scarborough Fair was a real medieval trading event, so vast it lasted 45 days. Jugglers, cloth merchants, and pickpockets mingled while pilgrims sought indulgences at local holy wells. #FolkyFriday

Old John Barleycorn, who dies and rises each year in the fields, is no ordinary folk hero. He’s malt and martyr, harvest and hooch. Slain by plough and flail, reborn as ale and whiskey, this grain spirit speaks to the soul of summer. #FolkyFriday

Obscure saint alert: St. Kenelm, a child-king slain in a power grab, was guided back to Worcester by a dove carrying a scroll. His well (yes, of course he has a well) became a pilgrimage site where visions and healing were said to occur. #FolkyFriday Image: Brian Pready

In some regions, summer fairs doubled as gatherings for “cunning folk” and herbalists. One could buy a charm, have your fortune read, or sip strawberry wine to seal a wish. Who needs a pop-up shop when you have a hedge-witch booth? #FolkyFriday Art: Sandi Wickersham