project on hold

I came home last night to a note that Rafiq called--but I came home late, and cold, enough that I wasn't dealing with anything not labeled "emergency" except Andy and the cat. When I checked my email this morning, I found he wants us to stop writing on this project until Monday, because he has to revise the ToC and shorten the already brief material we have. I suspect this means my research on Kievan Rus will mostly go out the window except for having informed myself in the process. I know it means that instead of being very busy for the next few days, my calendar is suddenly empty. I can see Mom, maybe roadnotes and other friends, and think about my novel instead of about the nature of feudalism.

project on hold

I came home last night to a note that Rafiq called--but I came home late, and cold, enough that I wasn't dealing with anything not labeled "emergency" except Andy and the cat. When I checked my email this morning, I found he wants us to stop writing on this project until Monday, because he has to revise the ToC and shorten the already brief material we have. I suspect this means my research on Kievan Rus will mostly go out the window except for having informed myself in the process. I know it means that instead of being very busy for the next few days, my calendar is suddenly empty. I can see Mom, maybe roadnotes and other friends, and think about my novel instead of about the nature of feudalism.

home from the hills, or something

I don't exactly need a day off to recover from my vacation, or even from the trip home (although the train's heat failed somewhere in upstate New York, and never got fixed, even when we sat in Albany to change engines). But Rafiq has our project on hold, and while I emailed Robert to ask if he has any immediate work, it's the middle of the night in Tokyo, so I haven't heard back from him. It's gray and chilly out, the sort of weather you can go out in but isn't any fun, and it's easier to sit here and listen to London Calling and do cryptic puzzles than work on the novel or clean my desk.

I can get by in French, at least on the "rosbif avec fromage, si vous plait" and "tirez/poussez" level, but it's nice to be back where I can read the signs and know enough verbs to get by in the two commonest languages. Still, as I told papersky, I'd be happy to shop in French if I could buy pastries as nice as she can get in easy walking distance at the patisserie on Sherbrooke. But cattitude volunteered that he's not moving to Montreal while I was burbling last night and hadn't even suggested the idea, so I guess I'm buying Jewish rye bread and fancy sourdoughs in English, and pointing and smiling at the dim sum carts. It's good to be home. I just wish more of my friends lived closer.

home from the hills, or something

I don't exactly need a day off to recover from my vacation, or even from the trip home (although the train's heat failed somewhere in upstate New York, and never got fixed, even when we sat in Albany to change engines). But Rafiq has our project on hold, and while I emailed Robert to ask if he has any immediate work, it's the middle of the night in Tokyo, so I haven't heard back from him. It's gray and chilly out, the sort of weather you can go out in but isn't any fun, and it's easier to sit here and listen to London Calling and do cryptic puzzles than work on the novel or clean my desk.

I can get by in French, at least on the "rosbif avec fromage, si vous plait" and "tirez/poussez" level, but it's nice to be back where I can read the signs and know enough verbs to get by in the two commonest languages. Still, as I told papersky, I'd be happy to shop in French if I could buy pastries as nice as she can get in easy walking distance at the patisserie on Sherbrooke. But cattitude volunteered that he's not moving to Montreal while I was burbling last night and hadn't even suggested the idea, so I guess I'm buying Jewish rye bread and fancy sourdoughs in English, and pointing and smiling at the dim sum carts. It's good to be home. I just wish more of my friends lived closer.

a wandering meme

I don't usually do these things, but this one actually interests me:

1. Do you wear any jewelry? What kind?

Earrings, sometimes necklaces or pins

2. How often do you wear it?

One earring, always; two others most days; necklaces or pins if I'm in the mood and wearing something that works with it. The necklaces I like are heavy enough that I'm not comfortable wearing them unless my shirt has a collar.

3. Do you have any piercings? If so, where?

Two in the right ear, one in the left.

4. Do you have any tattoos? If so, where?

One on each upper arm, one on my right shin.

5. What are your plans for the weekend?

See my mother, write, spend time with cattitude.

a wandering meme

I don't usually do these things, but this one actually interests me:

1. Do you wear any jewelry? What kind?

Earrings, sometimes necklaces or pins

2. How often do you wear it?

One earring, always; two others most days; necklaces or pins if I'm in the mood and wearing something that works with it. The necklaces I like are heavy enough that I'm not comfortable wearing them unless my shirt has a collar.

3. Do you have any piercings? If so, where?

Two in the right ear, one in the left.

4. Do you have any tattoos? If so, where?

One on each upper arm, one on my right shin.

5. What are your plans for the weekend?

See my mother, write, spend time with cattitude.

I should have read the fine print (and the large friendly letters)

If I had, I might have guessed that the miniature calendar I bought (for about $4 Canadian including tax) was in French. I was lured by the pictures, and didn't notice that it says "Le charme des Fleurs Sauvages" and "Calendrier de 2003 édition spéciale de 16 mois" and absolutely nothing else on the front. The months and moon phases are the same as on any calendar I'd buy, of course, and so are most of the holidays--except that it has "féte national du Québec" for 24 June and doesn't have US Independence Day. We'll be buying a larger calendar anyhow, to hang where we normally hang calendars, and I'll have pretty pictures of flowers as soon as I figure out a non-destructive way to pin this one to my desk.

(The fine print is on the back: WP Fleurs sauvage - Imprimé au Canada...6,99 $ Canada - 4,99 $ États-Unis)

I should have read the fine print (and the large friendly letters)

If I had, I might have guessed that the miniature calendar I bought (for about $4 Canadian including tax) was in French. I was lured by the pictures, and didn't notice that it says "Le charme des Fleurs Sauvages" and "Calendrier de 2003 édition spéciale de 16 mois" and absolutely nothing else on the front. The months and moon phases are the same as on any calendar I'd buy, of course, and so are most of the holidays--except that it has "féte national du Québec" for 24 June and doesn't have US Independence Day. We'll be buying a larger calendar anyhow, to hang where we normally hang calendars, and I'll have pretty pictures of flowers as soon as I figure out a non-destructive way to pin this one to my desk.

(The fine print is on the back: WP Fleurs sauvage - Imprimé au Canada...6,99 $ Canada - 4,99 $ États-Unis)

More Montreal snippets

• Papersky and Rysmiel took me out to a Peruvian restaurant, where I had excellent onion soup (filling, as onion soup with proper cheese broiled on top always is) and grilled shrimp, and everyone else had other more-or-less Peruvian food, after we sorted out what things were by comparing the Spanish and French parts of the menu. It was easier to say "Solamente agua por favor" than to ask for a glass of water in French (the staff spoke no English). So there I was, in a bilingual nation, communicating in a third language. Ordering in Spanish wasn't weird--I do that at home sometimes--but it turned out that my Spanish was the best common language between any of us and anyone who worked there. So Papersky asked me to tell the waitress that the bathroom light was out. I took a moment, figured out how, and walked over and did so. The problem was that this left me in Spanish as a second language mode. Later in the meal, I was in the bathroom, someone knocked, and I answered in Spanish. Then I had to put my brain back into English mode, since none of the people I was dining with speak any Spanish: that's why I'd been translating in the first place.

• It took me three days to get comfortable enough on the Metro to slip into my native guide mode. I noticed this when I counted stations to our destination, Rysmiel looked vaguely confused about where we were, and I automatically said how far we had to go. Right. Rysmiel lives and works there, and takes the Metro to work, and I got to town three days ago. The Montreal Metro is nice and simple--four lines, standardized announcement format for the next station ("Station prochaine <station name>"), and they display bus and suburban rail connections on the sides of the car as you approach the station. Well, simple if you can get along in a sort of verbless rudimentary French, as I can.

More Montreal snippets

• Papersky and Rysmiel took me out to a Peruvian restaurant, where I had excellent onion soup (filling, as onion soup with proper cheese broiled on top always is) and grilled shrimp, and everyone else had other more-or-less Peruvian food, after we sorted out what things were by comparing the Spanish and French parts of the menu. It was easier to say "Solamente agua por favor" than to ask for a glass of water in French (the staff spoke no English). So there I was, in a bilingual nation, communicating in a third language. Ordering in Spanish wasn't weird--I do that at home sometimes--but it turned out that my Spanish was the best common language between any of us and anyone who worked there. So Papersky asked me to tell the waitress that the bathroom light was out. I took a moment, figured out how, and walked over and did so. The problem was that this left me in Spanish as a second language mode. Later in the meal, I was in the bathroom, someone knocked, and I answered in Spanish. Then I had to put my brain back into English mode, since none of the people I was dining with speak any Spanish: that's why I'd been translating in the first place.

• It took me three days to get comfortable enough on the Metro to slip into my native guide mode. I noticed this when I counted stations to our destination, Rysmiel looked vaguely confused about where we were, and I automatically said how far we had to go. Right. Rysmiel lives and works there, and takes the Metro to work, and I got to town three days ago. The Montreal Metro is nice and simple--four lines, standardized announcement format for the next station ("Station prochaine <station name>"), and they display bus and suburban rail connections on the sides of the car as you approach the station. Well, simple if you can get along in a sort of verbless rudimentary French, as I can.