The wind is changing

While I was trying to work my way through the muscle cells, to stop them growing too wildly on plastic over the weekend, the greybearded security guard walking along the corridors and peeping around the corners started a cheery conversation, after seeing me seemingly in all the labs at once. Heavy practice of small talk that we don't know much about up there in the cold dark North East has taught me how to chat up anyone I might bump into instead of keeping silent (with exceptions occuring), saying nothing and feeling weird. One word lead to another and the major idea ruling my mind these days lead me to getting a full page worth of advice consisting of unheard-of hints about expedition nutrition, including a secret vitamin C rich plant to pick on the left bank of a Greek lake and veto on eating courgette, aubergine, blette and several other my favorite french speciality (...and that's why the French are always tired!) veggies. Well... at least I got it out of him that dates are still good to munch on during heavy biking though not recommended in everyday life.

To those of you of Estonian breed wondering about the sudden change of language I owe a simple explanation: I know most or all of my friends understand English, while a big part of them do not understand more than few words of Estonian; and putting together written phrases in French is still beyond me. Do not be afraid though, comments are still welcome in any language you want to express yourself in. However, if you wish your voice to be heard I recommend using one that I understand.


Here's my English proofreader Swifty with a nice hot cup of afternoon tea; if you ever find me writing with a slight Scottish accent, the proof must have been read by her nat(ur/ion)al enemy, my fabulous flatmate Elsbeth from the Campbell clan.