Speaking in tongues

The city of Geneva lies on a squiggly of land at the western end of Switzerland. This squiggly is surrounded by France to the north, west and south. (In fact, our apartment is less than 4km from the French border.) As such, the predominant language used here is French. The official language of the canton (state/province) in which Geneva lies is French, which is one of the four official languages of Switzerland.

Since we reside in the squiggly, it turns out that it would be extremely handy to have the ability to speak and/or understand French. Our recollection of the language is very vague indeed, our most recent lessons being over 10 years ago (in western Canada, no less -- how high a priority has learning French ever been out that way??!). So we're signing up for French classes to try and remedy that. The prof knows only French, so it will be an interesting undertaking.

Wish us luck. Oh revwar mezamee!

Fine... comments are enabled

Yowsers! Due to an overwhelming number of complaints by all those Vanderveens out there to "let us leave comments already so we can tell you a thing or two", comments are now enabled. We await the barrage...

iPod vs. Washing machine

I (Andrew) bought a shiny new jacket a bunch of weeks ago. It was sleek, it was stylish, it was fraught with pockets. After our Christmas holiday to BC, my jacket wasn't looking quite so sleek. I decided it should be washed, so I checked all the pockets for stuff. And by "all" I mean "all but one". My coat of many pockets was still unfamiliar to me so somehow I missed a cranny.

After a nice vigorous wash cycle, my dear mother (yes, when we visit my parents in Ontario I'm more than happy to let my mom do my laundry) was transferring it to the dryer when she felt something that didn't belong. "Andrew!" she asked in alarm, "Is there a cell phone in here?" I was confident that there wasn't, since I knew where my phone was. So we dug out the offending article and voilà! ...out came a rather soggy iPod Mini!

Now, if I'd given in to my curiosity, I would have tried to turn the iPod on and it would have died instantly and permanently. Instead I resigned myself to a long chore with no guarantee of success. I googled my problem and took it from there. (In case you've been living under a rock, any problem you encounter has been encountered before and has probably found its way (hopefully with a solution) onto the Internet somewhere, although not necessarily in English.)

You'd be surprised how many iPods have been submerged in water, with most cases involving toilet bowls. As such, it didn't take long for me to find a website that outlined how to take apart my iPod and try to dry it out.

An iPod Mini dissected (click pics to enlarge)

I ripped the thing apart, then dried what I could with a cloth and a blow dryer. Then I left it overnight with a good draft blowing across it. Next morning I slapped it back together and went for broke. It worked!! Not at all what I was expecting but I shan't complain.

Oh, by the way, the battery (the blue pack in the picture) is of the Lithium-Ion variety and can explode violently if exposed to water. I'm utterly amazed that during the wash cycle the water didn't penetrate where it shouldn't. Ah well, all's well that ends well. The iPod now joins my USB key on my list of Things-That-Shouldn't-Work-After-Going-Through-The-Wash-But-Do.

A good-as-new iPod!

Back online!

Well, we're back and finally online! We made the mistake of taking our computer to Switzerland without the power cord. But it was nothing that a week of waiting for snail mail couldn't fix! Now that the laptop and her cord are reunited, I (Andrew) am out of excuses... back to work I go. Carrie has been working for a week already, in which time I've done more reading (yes, fiction, let's not get carried away now) than I have in the last umpteen years.

Expect a flurry of posts in quick succession, now that we're plugged in again. What not to expect, however, is any sort of cohesive monologue; I suspect I'll be making most of the posts, since Carrie works and I simply do whatever it is I do, perhaps giving me more time. I've never kept a journal, diary, blog or similar that requires transforming thoughts into sentences, so let this be my disclaimer. Woohoo, I'm now safe to prattle on to my heart's content.