![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
The Hamsters Died A Horrible Death
Sorry for the week-long vanishing act I pulled, and the entries I missed replying to! But right now I'm so excited:
OH MY GOD I HAS INTERNETS!!!!! ^______________^
The mutant hamsters that generate power for our local server all went up to that Great Big Wheel In The Sky last Saturday, so our household (and a whole lot of other households in our area) suffered Severe Internet Drought for the entire week it took to breed and raise a new lot of hamsters to run the wheels. All is well as of this afternoon, and I foresee no other problems in the near future... unless they forget to feed the hamsters.
One week, and my message boxes overfloweth. On the other hand, I have been practicing my trombone until the neighbourhood dogs howled in pain. So much for gleefully revelling in the dreadfully easy trombone part for George Enescu's Romanian Rhapsody No. 2: last Saturday the conductor called me up front and gave me the transcribed French Horn part to cover (since the only FH player we have is one who moved from the trumpet section, and is still learning the instrument). It was absolutely crawling with notes. The trombone principal was appalled when he saw the notes, asked me, "How the hell are you to play that?" ... After one week of hard work, I can say: with a smaller Denis Wick mouthpiece. And pushing my lungs close to bursting. Ha! ha!
Oh, and here's something interesting: During the Internet Drought, I, having nothing better to do, went through some of my old notebooks. Way back when I was in high school I used to write short stories, and every so often I'd wake up in the morning with names and ideas that I could use, so it was a habit for me then to keep a notepad at hand to scribble said things in it before they disappeared into the hazy mist of awakening.
Well.
Right on page one of this notebook were clearly written two words, presumably names. One was "JANNOCK." The other was - "FEUILLE."
What the hell? I didn't speak a word of French in high school, I hadn't encountered Les Mis yet, and I knew absolutely doodly-squat about fanmaking and silks and leaves. So where the hell did that come from? LOL.
I wonder if I ever made use of those. I should go through my archives and see.
OH MY GOD I HAS INTERNETS!!!!! ^______________^
The mutant hamsters that generate power for our local server all went up to that Great Big Wheel In The Sky last Saturday, so our household (and a whole lot of other households in our area) suffered Severe Internet Drought for the entire week it took to breed and raise a new lot of hamsters to run the wheels. All is well as of this afternoon, and I foresee no other problems in the near future... unless they forget to feed the hamsters.
One week, and my message boxes overfloweth. On the other hand, I have been practicing my trombone until the neighbourhood dogs howled in pain. So much for gleefully revelling in the dreadfully easy trombone part for George Enescu's Romanian Rhapsody No. 2: last Saturday the conductor called me up front and gave me the transcribed French Horn part to cover (since the only FH player we have is one who moved from the trumpet section, and is still learning the instrument). It was absolutely crawling with notes. The trombone principal was appalled when he saw the notes, asked me, "How the hell are you to play that?" ... After one week of hard work, I can say: with a smaller Denis Wick mouthpiece. And pushing my lungs close to bursting. Ha! ha!
Oh, and here's something interesting: During the Internet Drought, I, having nothing better to do, went through some of my old notebooks. Way back when I was in high school I used to write short stories, and every so often I'd wake up in the morning with names and ideas that I could use, so it was a habit for me then to keep a notepad at hand to scribble said things in it before they disappeared into the hazy mist of awakening.
Well.
Right on page one of this notebook were clearly written two words, presumably names. One was "JANNOCK." The other was - "FEUILLE."
What the hell? I didn't speak a word of French in high school, I hadn't encountered Les Mis yet, and I knew absolutely doodly-squat about fanmaking and silks and leaves. So where the hell did that come from? LOL.
I wonder if I ever made use of those. I should go through my archives and see.
no subject
Had a chuckle over the neighbourhood dogs...they clearly have no taste (I once had a chihuahua I could get to howl in self pity just by saying "Poor Ratty...poor, poor, poor Ratty" in sufficiently sad tones - he'd throw his head back and yowl in miserable accompaniment).
That is odd about "Feuille" coming up...it could mean sheet/leaf/foil..."feuille de papier" being a sheet of paper, for example. Perhaps it came up in that context and caught your imagination, predisposing you to Feuilly when you came across him much later?
no subject
You do not know what sounds (or should I say noise?) I can produce with my trombone, or you would know what my neighbours and their dogs are made to suffer, haha. (Among other things, I sometimes do a very good impression of a faulty racing motorbike). Your dog anecdote is priceless; now there's one dog that was fully capable of attracting sympathy! (that was the same dog you used to find in your laundry basket?).
I can't remember having encountered any French in school, but maybe my subconsciousness managed to cling on to something I briefly glanced at (a good friend once told her mother that I had "a memory like a vacuum cleaner", haha) and regurgitated it while I was asleep! Regardless of how it got into my head, it was pretty dang funny finding that note.