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Checkpoint...
Well, it took a while, but I whittled the words due Monday down to just a shade over 8,000 words. In between, I took a nap, went to Sam's Club with Galina, and did a few other things besides translate. The document appears to be pretty straightforward, except for the fact that I've typed "industrial risk management" so many times today that I've added an auto-correct entry to help take care of expanding it.
(I notice that Word is picky about enaging the auto-correct feature; sometimes it works, sometimes not. I cannot pick out the method from the madness.)
Galina appears intent to leave for Pagosa tomorrow, to arrive on Sunday, to begin to undertake a load of smelly to-dos on Monday. Moi, after the current stuff on the plate, I have 8-hour assignments on Monday and Tuesday at JSC, for which I may - and very likely will - end up renting a car.
A recent French Pod Class featured Charles Aznavour singing what was described as perhaps his best-known song, La bohème, during one of the musical breaks. The iTunes store has a pile of versions available for sale, but none by Aznavour. Go figure.
I've taken a very preliminary crack at rendering the lyrics into English, as partially follows:
Still, for me, it's a powerful song.
But what am I doing at the computer? Galina will be leaving tomorrow. I should go spend time with her.
Cheers...
(I notice that Word is picky about enaging the auto-correct feature; sometimes it works, sometimes not. I cannot pick out the method from the madness.)
Galina appears intent to leave for Pagosa tomorrow, to arrive on Sunday, to begin to undertake a load of smelly to-dos on Monday. Moi, after the current stuff on the plate, I have 8-hour assignments on Monday and Tuesday at JSC, for which I may - and very likely will - end up renting a car.
A recent French Pod Class featured Charles Aznavour singing what was described as perhaps his best-known song, La bohème, during one of the musical breaks. The iTunes store has a pile of versions available for sale, but none by Aznavour. Go figure.
I've taken a very preliminary crack at rendering the lyrics into English, as partially follows:
Je vous parle d'un tempsThe French "bohème" is a marvelously compact word that describes, in two syllables, the bohemian way of life among students and artists, which may sound very vibrant and romantic, but also includes a whole lot of people with little money and even fewer prospects.
Que les moins de vingt ans
Ne peuvent pas connaître
Montmartre en ce temps-là
Accrochait ses lilas
Jusque sous nos fenêtres
Et si l'humble garni
Qui nous servait de nid
Ne payait pas de mine
C'est là qu'on s'est connu
Moi qui criait famine
Et toi qui posais nue
La bohème, la bohème
Ça voulait dire on est heureux
La bohème, la bohème
Nous ne mangions qu'un jour sur deux
You I'll tell of a time
That those younger than 20
Cannot know
Montmartre then
Brought its lilacs to
Just under our windows
And if our humble digs
That served as our nest
Looked pretty bad
It was there we became self aware
I who shouted famine
And you who posed nude
La bohème, la bohème
That meant one is happy
La bohème, la bohème
We ate only every other day
Still, for me, it's a powerful song.
But what am I doing at the computer? Galina will be leaving tomorrow. I should go spend time with her.
Cheers...