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So as of a few minutes ago, I'm ahead of where I planned to be for project Z, solidly ahead of where I planned to be for project T, but woefully behind for project S.
And so it goes.
Feht called a little while ago in response to one of my occasional emails asking about the meaning of Russian text, whereupon the conversation turned toward other subjects. Vacationing in Guadeloupe, places in various European cities where philatelic "flea markets" spring up on a regular basis, and the news that Abraham T., who I first met back about 20 years ago and Feht even before that, has died.
Abe was an interesting character, whose passion for accurate translation was palpable, and after speaking at length with him, you realized that he had forgotten more than some translators know about language and translation. He was of medium height, plump, and bespeckled, but always with a sparkle in his eye and always ready to relate some new anecdote, which would invariably split my sides.
As with so many people I've met, we drifted apart some years ago, which Feht tells me was a blessing in disguise, because when Abe's wife died some years ago, he became "lost." New anecdotes were apparently replaced with an uneasy and unpredictable irritability.
Maybe my reports are wrong. I hope they are.
Rest in peace, Abe. I will miss you.
And so it goes.
Feht called a little while ago in response to one of my occasional emails asking about the meaning of Russian text, whereupon the conversation turned toward other subjects. Vacationing in Guadeloupe, places in various European cities where philatelic "flea markets" spring up on a regular basis, and the news that Abraham T., who I first met back about 20 years ago and Feht even before that, has died.
Abe was an interesting character, whose passion for accurate translation was palpable, and after speaking at length with him, you realized that he had forgotten more than some translators know about language and translation. He was of medium height, plump, and bespeckled, but always with a sparkle in his eye and always ready to relate some new anecdote, which would invariably split my sides.
As with so many people I've met, we drifted apart some years ago, which Feht tells me was a blessing in disguise, because when Abe's wife died some years ago, he became "lost." New anecdotes were apparently replaced with an uneasy and unpredictable irritability.
Maybe my reports are wrong. I hope they are.
Rest in peace, Abe. I will miss you.
