Exactly one year ago our family arrived in Geneva, wondering if we'd really made the right decision. (Of course we had - it was the jet lag.)
Boy, that year went by fast.
I have no idea what this is or where it came from. She just appeared one morning in our neighborhood. Kind of a guardian of Avenue de Châtelaine. I thought we should call her Châty Kathy. The kids just call her Big Head.
Her head's already been knocked off and replaced once. Now her nose is missing. Guess we live in a rough patch of town.
These clouds were so much nicer that the fly swatter, the empty soda bottle, the neighbor's laundry the wind blew away and the flock of pigeons, all of which are semi-permanent fixtures on the apartment roof just below our balcony. I'm just glad the neighbor's diaper from last summer eventually decomposed. Or a pigeon flew off with it. Whatever, I'm just glad it's gone.
There are a lot of stories I wish I could post on this blog, but can't due to the confidentiality agreement I signed when I joined.
I keep several personal entries in a file hidden within a file that will only see the light of day at the end of my employment. I call them my anti-posts. And I recently had a major one. Sorry, you'll have to wait.
Without divulging too much, I can tell you that some anti-posts include people with erratic and flamboyant punctuation, organizations that couldn't possibly go green attempting to do so, and strategic briefs that earnestly use the words "goodies" and "faecal matter" in the same sentence.