Apr. 25th, 2017

dchenes: (Default)
I had a conversation with a coworker that led me into looking up whether there's a French translation of The Phantom Tollbooth. There is, and now I want to read it to find out if it's any good.

While I was cleaning out my bookshelves in the decluttering process, I discovered the copy of L'Oiseau Bleu that I kept because I wanted to try translating it. I kept it again, because I still want to take a crack at it some day.

This train of thought came about because I'm trying to wrap my brain around revising 38 pages of the accreditation self-study. It's rather like wading through peanut butter because (among other reasons) it was written by one person who doesn't write all that well and another person who doesn't type all that well. I have to figure out what they're trying to say, whether they actually said it, make it say that if not, and then elaborate on it. At least there's something there to build on. (There had better be; this thing goes to the printer in July and if we had only just started it now, nobody would be going home until then.)

OK, several years later, I think I'm making progress. Everything I don't know enough to write about is a thing I'm not supposed to know about.

Wish I had a feline/English dictionary, part N+1: Last night Snip was absolutely adamant that I come keep her company while she had her before-bed snack, and after that she was absolutely adamant that any part of me she could reach while she was standing on the bed and I was lying in it had to be headbutted and rubbed on. I have no idea what that was about. But I guess it means she's still speaking to me.
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