Vacances annuelles de Noël à mi-février [fr]

[en] Annual vacation coming up, from Christmas to mid-February.

Ceux d’entre vous qui me connaissent le savent: je prends depuis quelques années un “gros break” en hiver. Ça me permet de me ressourcer pour être plus productive et créative le reste de l’année. Et ça m’évite aussi de passer un mois de janvier en Suisse à déprimer dans la grisaille.

Concrètement, cela signifie que je ferme boutique entre Noël et mi-février — je reprends après la conférence Lift, qui a lieu du 6 au 8 février.

Je vais consacrer les deux semaines qui restent avant Noël à mettre de l’ordre dans les divers dossiers en cours. Certains d’entre vous attendent des réponses à des e-mails, et vous devriez les avoir d’ici là. Pour tout ce qui peut attendre mon retour, on verra ça dans deux mois!

Here We Go Again [en]

[fr] Des nouvelles du front.

Here we go again. My last post dates back to November 19th. This would seem to say the after-effects of the Back to Blogging challenge were short-lived! Not quite, though, because I’m writing today, and nearly wrote Tuesday, and am still focused on writing shorter.

The week before last was module 2 of the course on social media and online communities that I direct at SAWI. That means 4 days in the classroom, although I’m not teaching all the time (about two-thirds of the time I’m watching somebody else teach, and learning stuff!), with a conference and networking event by Rezonance on the Thursday night. (Needless to say I had other stuff going on the other evenings.)

The module went great, I was very happy — and from what I heard the students were too — but it was utterly exhausting.

Early this week I finally managed to extract myself from the nightmare of dealing with IRCTC Customer “care”. This is the blog post I started writing, and might finish at some point. Endless to-and-fro e-mails, disastrous user experience, crappy website, ridiculous security rules… I’ll spare you the details for the moment. Weeks of frustration were suddenly solved when I accepted I would get nowhere through official channels. An Indian phone number from a friend in Delhi and a few confirmation codes by IM later, I was finally booking train tickets for my January holiday.

I’m heading to Paris tomorrow for LeWeb, like each year. I’m looking forward to it! Maybe tomorrow or later today I’ll write a post on how to pitch me (or how not to pitch me). Short version? Do your homework. Know that I’m not interested in breaking news. I like cool new toys but what is cool for you is not necessarily cool for me. The main thing that interest me? People. What I’ll do for a friend, I won’t for a stranger. My contact page is harsh, but still stands.

Other than that I’m having some drama with the cats and the concierge. Three cats in my building go out. Tounsi, Quintus, and my neighbour’s Salem. (All the others are indoor cats.) One or more cats are spraying in the corridor. We don’t know who it is. All three cats know how to sneak into the building in between somebody’s feet when they walk in. So there are regularly cats hanging out in the corridor. I clean any markings I find with water, but unfortunately they leave stains (attack the flooring?). So my concierge is asking me to “make an effort” but won’t tell me exactly which effort I’m supposed to make (yeah, prevent my cats from being in the corridor; I’m already doing that).

 

Smokers and Smell: a Rant [en]

[fr] Coup de gueule contre la fumée... son odeur surtout. Chers amis fumeurs: je vous aime quand même.

I’ve been wanting to write this post for ages but holding back because of fear I’ll offend my smoking friends. I have many smoking friends. Close friends. I’ve had smoking lovers and boyfriends. So, keep in mind while reading this that I don’t throw away the person for the smoke.

Now for the rant. Brace yourselves.

Smokers smell. I’m sorry, but there is no other way to put it. I know that people are smokers before I see them light up, if I get close enough for “la bise” (our standard local greeting here). And not only heavy smokers.

Smokers, clearly, do not realize how much they smell. I know smoking takes away some of your sense of smell. And we get used to smells we live in. But I don’t live in smoke, and I have a good nose.

A heavy smoker friend of mine once taunted me saying smoke didn’t stink. I said it did for me. I asked him to imagine a smell he really hated, and now imagine hanging out with people who smelled like that. Or easier: how would you like hanging out with somebody who kept spraying toilet deodorant around them? Or who never washed?

I won’t even get into the whole kissing/physical intimacy thing.

Smokers also don’t realize how far a non-smoker can smell a light cigarette. If we’re in a restaurant and you light a cigarette at the other end, I’ll smell it. Even outside. (Insert something about people smoking under bus stops here. Specially when it rains.) It’s not because we’re outside that your cigarette doesn’t bother me even 10 meters away.

Sure, you have a right to smoke. And I have a right not to breathe foul-smelling air.

Related pet peeves? Smokers who smoke in non-smoking places. Or on the verge of non-smoking places. Smokers who come and sit on my bench to light their cigarette — upwind. People who sit next to me on the bus smelling like old ashtray. The wall of smoke you have to walk through to exit or enter a building nowadays.

Yes, I’m an intolerant bitch at times.

To be fair, not all smokers are as bad. I know smokers who pay attention to staying as nice-smelling as possible. Who make sure their smoke is not coming in my direction. Who will walk away a bit from a group of people to light their fag. And who try to quit. Given how many smoking friends I have who are trying/have tried/try to quit, it’s clearly horribly hard to do. Don’t give up. Smell is important.

Thanks for putting up with my rant. Dear smoking friends: I still love you, even if I sometimes wish you smelled nicer…

#back2blog challenge (2/10):

 

Life in Pictures [en]

[fr] Photos et commentaires.

This is a lazy post. Posts have to be lazy most of the time, or they don’t happen. I have hundreds of photographs waiting to be sorted and uploaded. But I have other things to do like fight fungus on my cherry tomato plants, cuddle kitties, earn money, and prepare for a couple of week-ends abroad.

Anyway. What I did is I picked a bunch of photos from the last month or so that I liked, and dumped them together in a set. They tell bits of my life — the parts I’ve photographed. Lots of cats and plants 🙂

I almost just embedded the slideshow here. But you’re lucky, here are the photos, with comments underneath.

Smelly Bus Stop

I was waiting for the bus to go to my audiologist’s (who is lovely but works quite far out for somebody travelling by public transport like me) and was really disturbed by the smell of rubbish. I was grumbling about people who throw rubbish on the railway tracks or something, when I turned around and noticed the train that was parked right behind us: a garbage train. That kind of explained the smell.

My balcony, early July, with Quintus

When I came back from England with Quintus I was amazed at how much my tomatoes had grown. Here’s what the balcony looked like back then, early July. Not much compared to today. You can see Quintus peeking out.

Stormy Lake

I love the lake, and find it particularly beautiful when it’s stormy. I’ve been sailing a fair number of times this summer, but haven’t taken many photos. I have a facebook group for people interested in going sailing on the Farrniente. (Not my only active facebook group as you’ll soon discover.)

Quintus in Love With Corinne the Cat-Sitter

Corinne is in Switzerland these days, so she’s been over regularly to visit, and agreed to cat-sit for me while I was in France end July. It was love at first sight between her and Quintus. Corinne has recently redesigned my professional site. I’m very happy with the result and just need to write a little content (hah!) before it can go live. I’m quite excited to have an up-to-date professional site again, particularly as I’m now clearer about what aspects of my work I want to develop (hint: blogging/freelancers).

Nails done professionally for the first time in my life

A couple of months ago I met Claire. I first noticed her on Twitter (@CBertol) — she was nice, a blogger and a cat person (meet @LoupiCat and his blog). She came to Bloggy Friday (yes, there’s a facebook group for that!) and I immediately noticed her nails. Turns out she’s a part-time nail artist. My brother’s wedding was coming up, and I figured it would be a good excuse to use her services.

So anyway, a few weeks later, I trekked to the other end of the canton and had my nails done. I suck at taking hand photos, I do.

Nails done professionally for the first time in my life -- toes

I don’t think my foot photos are much better :-p

Quintus and Tounsi in the garden

Here’s Quintus exploring the garden, with Tounsi not far behind. Did I mention they both have facebook pages? Follow the links.

At my brother's wedding

There we are, here I am at my brother’s wedding. That white jacket is the most expensive item of clothing I’ve ever bought, but it was worth it. Now I need to wear it 🙂

The wedding was a really nice wedding. All weddings are nice (well, hopefully), but this one was nice in the sense that it was relaxed, sprinkled with a few nice Ukrainian traditions, there wasn’t any drama, and suddenly it was 1am and neither me nor my grandparents (who are well in their eighties!) had seen time go by.

Quintus and Tounsi cohabitating

Here are the cats again. They don’t love each other, but they tolerate each other quite well. I don’t often see them this close though, and it usually doesn’t last long, so I take a photo when it happens. Quintus started out by actively impressing Tounsi with low menacing meows when he arrived. End result: Tounsi started being afraid of Quintus — I’d actually never seen Tounsi be afraid of anything or anybody before!

Things are calming down now. Tounsi has realized that Quintus is mostly talk and not much walk, so he’s starting to stand up to him more. But Quintus is still clearly top cat.

Quintus lounging outside eclau

The top cat in question, lounging on the window sill at eclau. Quintus prefers to stay in the flat, but I’m encouraging him to spend time at eclau and outside. Outside, he has his favourite spot hidden under the concrete path. It’s hollow underneath and there are two neat cat-entrances. He usually makes a beeline for it when he’s outside, and would rather be outside than hang out at eclau.

Things are changing though. He’s starting to nap at eclau and get to know the coworkers, and I’m spending a bit of time with him (and treats!) outside to encourage him to explore.

Which reminds me (I should have blogged about this already, but I haven’t, of course): we had an emergency photo shoot the other day at eclau to illustrate an article in the Financial Times I had given Ian Sanders an interview for. (That is one ugly sentence, sorry.) The photo ended up not illustrating a little feature about eclau alongside other coworking spaces, each with its little photograph, but being the main photo for the article! The link above to the article is behind a registerwall, se here’s the PDF of the article if you want to see what it looks like. Yay eclau and thanks Ian!

Quintus and Tounsi closer than usual

Back to the kitties, sharing the bed in an almost symmetrical manner.

After three kitty photos in a row, it’s no use hiding that I’m a crazy cat lady (not too old for the moment), and that there is a (francophone) facebook group for crazy cat ladies (and guys), and that I’m pretty active there posting photos of Quintus and Tounsi and liking photos of the cats responsible for the other 200 or so humans in the group.

Overgrown balcony

Back to the balcony: that’s more like it! Sharing my balcony plant photos on facebook led me to create a group for people into growing stuff. Yes, another facebook group. And it’s not finished.

Beautiful sunflowers in the garden

These sunflowers are not from my balcony, but in the garden just below. They grew to about 3 meters — I kid you not. The concierge himself was amazed — told me he’d never seen them grow that tall. I guess they liked the combination of good soil (on the compost heap) and lots of sun.

A yummy meal with veggies I don't normally buy

This was a yummy yummy meal I made, with green beans, which I never buy. I ended up with green beans because I signed up for a weekly basket of veggies while somebody from the coop was on holiday. And ended up with a bunch of veggies I never buy — which was exactly the point for me!

I’ve also changed the way I eat, eating a full “normal” meal at breakfast (fat + carbs, mainly), another good meal at lunch (less carbs), and a light meal in the evening (salad or the like + protein). I started doing it after being advised by a naturopath friend of mine (he’s the director of the EPSN in Lausanne). I was having trouble going to bed at night and getting up in the morning (sound familiar?). Swapping my meals around has helped a lot: I’m waking up earlier and going to bed earlier without much effort.

And when you think of it, it makes sense: you do not need huge piles of energy at night when you’re sleeping. Why eat your main meal just before going to bed? You need energy in the morning and the afternoon. Skipping breakfast or having a light breakfast doesn’t make much sense physiologically. In addition to that, it seems we have a peak of something in the morning that helps us digest fat. So, sausages and pasta in the morning, here we come!

As a perpetually hungry person, I’ve also found that I’m less hungry this way. I have a better morning because my tummy is full, I do not start starving at 10:30 am, but reach noon quite content, happy to eat again but not too hungry. And in the evening, instead of being (again) starving-waiting-for-my-main-meal, I’m barely hungry. What a change!

First balcony cucumber -- tasty!

In addition to cherry tomatoes, I’m growing cucumbers on my balcony. This is the first one. They are absolutely delicious. They actually taste of cucumber. (Not cucumber-flavoured water. Proper cucumber.)

I have two cucumber plants. Since they started producing fruit, I’m having trouble keeping up. Good thing I love cucumber, because it’s close to one a day!

Basket of veggies, delivery -- a lot for one person

Ah, here’s one of my veggie baskets from Le jardin potager. The closest delivery point is just across the road.

This is the second one. Note the beetroots? I hate the red stuff they try and put in your salad every now and again. I thought I didn’t like beetroot. I never ever buy beetroot. I tried this dead simple recipe and discovered that I actually love beetroots. I’ll be buying more!

Tounsi in Quintus's basket, holding his ground

The round basket is Quintus’s place. He sleeps there most of the time. Tounsi snuck in at some point, and stood his ground as Quintus tried to tell him off.

Khaly, my stepmom's adorable puppy

This cute baby is my stepmom’s new puppy, Khaly. Isn’t she a darling?

Basel

I went to Basel last week-end to visit a friend who has been there for the last four months or so. I have a pile of photos to sort and put online of course, so here’s already one which I particularly like.

Very classy

I stole this pic of a guy in the tram in front of us. I thought the cigarettes behind both ears were nearly as classy as the unlit dangling cigarette some addicts tend to have permanently glued to their mouth.

Balcony, mid-August

My balcony seen from outside, mid-August. It’s nice and shady on my balcony-couch.

Tounsi at eclau being silly

Tounsi, at eclau. 🙂

Quintus in the garden

Quintus relaxing in the garden.

3rd and last basket of veggies for the summer

My third basket of veggies. Help!

Tounsi and his "look"

Tounsi giving me his “OMG you found me!” look.

Tounsi curled up in his tight new spot

Curled up in his new spot — I didn’t think he’d fit in there.

Quintus basking in the sunshine

Cute nose contest.

Quintus light and dark

Basking in the sunshine.

Pallet garden, end of August version (too much had died)

I bought some new plants yesterday for my pallet garden. It’s been through various stages since the beginning: some plants died, some were happier elsewhere, some were simply bad choices (dangly plants kill those beneath them because they cover them up). My pallet has been looking a bit drab lately, so I bought some heather and pansies and a few other plants to fill in the gaps. Fingers crossed. Watering a pallet garden is definitely a challenge — if I were starting a pallet from scratch I would build irrigation in.

Tomatoes after pruning (had fungus)

I spent all afternoon yesterday removing fungus-ridden leaves from my tomatoes. I’d bunched them up way too tightly, and hadn’t pruned them enough, and the fungus loved it. Oh well, first-time tomato-grower — I’m learning. You can now see through the tomato plants.

Tomatoes

Here’s one of the little plants. (The pot is too small, but I had extra plants, so I thought “better a small pot than kill the plant”).

Cucumbers

Close-up of my cucumbers.

More Tomatoes

More tomatoes.

Indoor Jungle

I still have an indoor jungle. I have too many plants. I think I may be a bit of a hoarder. Anybody want to adopt some of my excess plants? Let me know if you’re around Lausanne and can come and pick them up.

I’ve had a hard time putting the plants where Tounsi won’t get at them (he’s improved, but the yucca for example is irresistible for his claws) and still leave enough space for the cats to walk around on the furniture (giving them a bit of a 3D indoor space).

Fallen tomatoes

The tomatoes that fell off while I was pruning and reattaching the plants yesterday. Have been looking for ideas for a small quantity of green cherry tomatoes. Fried?

Quintus cuddling in the morning

Quintus cuddling this morning. He likes to sleep curled up next to my ear, so I go to sleep to the music of purring kitty, which is nice. Less nice is that he makes noises when he sleeps. Voice noises. “Mmmh” each time he breathes. Some squeaky snore? A closed-mouth meow? I don’t now, but it wakes me up. So I pet him to try and get the purring started again, but as soon as I stop he drifts off again and starts squeaking.

Tounsi at the top of the bookcase

Tounsi taking advantage of some 3D-space I set up.

Reorganising the kitchen -- all useful stuff

One thing I finally got around to doing today is I started reorganizing my kitchen. Wow, if my memory serves me right, the kitchen cupboard space was last allocated in 2003, when I wrote “Living Space as User Interface“! I’ve added shelves and stuff since then, and cleaned out cupboards, but the kitchen is way overdue for a spring-clean and a complete re-think.

This is the cupboard above my sink, reorganized.

Reorganizing the kitchen -- not quite done yet

These are the shelves next to the sink. Not final, but at least I have somewhere for the great set of pans I brought back from Aleika’s.

Reorganizing the kitchen -- stuff I never use

Here’s a box filled with things I removed from the cupboard. Most of them have been outside the cupboard today for the first time in years. Need to sort through them, see what I get rid of, what I keep, and where I put what I keep.

Writing this last bit about the kitchen, I realize I’ve been quite good at keeping my weekends for “house stuff” (or leisure). In the Going Solo group (yup, another facebook one, remember the Going Solo conference?) we were talking the other day about setting time aside for one’s own projects. Half a day, for example.

I fear that if I do that I will quite quickly either let that half-day be taken over by work (if I’m stressed), or by “I don’t want to do anything, let me put my feet up”. I manage to not let work encroach on my week-end even when I’m “normally” stressed (I make exceptions in crisis situations of course). How can I recreate that level of “protection” for a slice of my time, but during the week? Food for thought.

Well, I hope you enjoyed the pictures and the snippets of news. Have a nice week!

On s'habitue [fr]

[en] A few words on habituation and hearing aids.

billet rédigé à Trigance, le 2 août 2012

On a une capacité incroyable à s’habituer. J’y pense maintenant, alors qu’après une journée sans appareils auditifs (je faisais de la randonnée en montagne, toute seule), je range mes cheveux derrière mon oreille après les avoir remis. “Scritchhhh scrtichhh!” — le bruit maintenant familier de mes cheveux qui frottent sur le micro. Ça ne me choque plus. C’est normal. Je suis habituée.

En avril, lorsque je me suis retrouvée pour la première fois avec des appareils sur les oreilles (la tentative avortée de mon adolescence était “intra” ;-)), j’ai été immédiatement horrifiée par le bruit ambiant. Le bruit de mes vêtements, mes cheveux quand je tournais la tête, ma respiration, et surtout, quand j’essayais de ranger une mèche derrière l’oreille.

Heureusement, mon audioprothésiste ne m’a pas laissée longtemps avec ce réglage “optimal selon le fabricant” et a réduit de 8 décibels (!) mon amplification. Assez pour que j’entende mieux que sans appareils, et assez peu pour ne pas être trop gênée par le bruit de fond du monde (et le bruit de fonctionnement de l’appareil).

Si vous m’aviez demandé ce jour-là si j’imaginais un jour pouvoir tolérer ce bruit, je vous aurais probablement répondu “non”. (Bon, j’admets que sachant ce que je sais sur l’habituation, j’aurais probablement concédé que ça faisait partie du possible, même si je peinais à l’imaginer.)

Aujourd’hui, 5 décibels de plus qu’en avril (et un changement de modèle, la gamme d’au-dessus — bobo le porte-monnaie), ces bruits de frottement ne m’incommodent pas. Ni même le bruit de fonctionnement de l’appareil, auquel vraiment j’imaginais ne jamais pouvoir m’habituer, et qui à ma stupéfaction m’est même agréable — quand je l’entends: lorsque je mets mes appareils le matin, et lorsque je suis dans un environnement très silencieux.

Je m’habitue aussi à entendre mieux. Marrant, ça. Il y a des gens dans mon entourage avec qui j’avais une communication très limitée, et je me rends compte maintenant que c’est parce que je les comprenais très mal. J’ai maintenant pris l’habitude de pouvoir interagir confortablement avec elles.

Une catégorie de personnes avec qui c’est flagrant, ce sont les enfants. Je soupçonne que les adultes s’adaptent (peut-être sans s’en rendre compte) au fait que j’entends mal, mais que les enfants ne sont pas vraiment (encore) équipés pour le faire. Ils ne réalisent pas que j’entends mal. Ils parlent doucement, sans me regarder, sans avoir mon attention. Ce sont des enfants. Eh bien depuis que j’ai des appareils, j’ai réalisé que j’interagissais beaucoup plus avec des enfants (connus ou inconnus). La seule explication que je vois, c’est que je suis maintenant en mesure de les comprendre suffisamment pour avoir des échanges significatifs.

Si j’oublie de mettre mes appareils, je me retrouve soudainement dans des interactions où les paroles de l’autre atteignent mon cerveau sous forme de choucroute inintelligible. Il me faut quelques secondes pour comprendre ce qui “ne va pas”: j’ai oublié de mettre mes oreilles! C’est presque inimaginable pour moi de penser que je me suis débrouillée toutes ces années en entendant si peu. Bref, j’ai complètement perdu l’habitude d’entendre mal (enfin, plus mal que maintenant) et de devoir faire les efforts nécessaires pour compenser. Ça se sent d’ailleurs: si je suis sans appareils, mon cerveau fait la grève — je suis probablement moins performante (moins entraînée!) pour compenser.

On s’habitue donc à la présence de quelque chose: des appareils dans mes oreilles auxquels je ne pense plus, d’avoir un univers sonore élargi, comprenant le bruit du frottement de mes cheveux sur mes micros. Mais on s’habitue aussi à l’absence: absence d’efforts à faire, absence de difficulté. On s’habitue aux choses agréables, et aussi à celles qui le sont moins.

J’ai déjà parlé du rôle de l’habituation dans notre recherche du bonheur: c’est cette formidable capacité de s’adapter qui fait que nos circonstances de vie comptent pour si peu (un misérable 10% dit la recherche!) dans notre bonheur. Nos circonstances de vie? Le travail qu’on a, si l’on vit ou non avec le Prince Charmant, pouvoir s’offrir de super vacances ou la dernière TV écran plat, une jolie voiture, vivre dans la maison de ses rêves… Tout ceci est bien joli, mais on s’y habitue.

Quelques mois ou peut-être un an ou deux après avoir fait l’acquisition du dernier objet de nos convoitises, on l’a intégré à notre vie et on n’y prête plus attention. On s’y est habitué. On se marie, on est sur le petit nuage rose, puis ça devient “normal” et si on n’y prête garde, notre bonheur ne s’en nourrit plus. Dans le cadre du couple, on connaît bien le problème de la “routine”: ce n’est que ça, la fameuse habituation. Pour éviter de s’habituer aux bonnes choses, il y a un effort conscient à faire.

On s’habitue aux bonnes choses, et on peut trouver ça dommage, mais le revers de la médaille, c’est qu’on s’habitue aussi merveilleusement bien aux mauvaises choses. Pourquoi faudrait-il s’habituer aux mauvaises choses? Pour pouvoir continuer à aller de l’avant quand le malheur frappe. Pour ne pas être terrassé par l’adversité. Pour survivre. Des exemples? Il y en a partout. Ce sont les cas où l’on dit que le temps fait son oeuvre. Après la mort de son conjoint ou d’un être cher, la vie reprend un jour le dessus. Lorsque notre corps fonctionne moins bien qu’avant (par accident ou maladie), on finit par s’y habituer. Heureusement! Imaginez si chaque jour était comme le lendemain de celui où le malheur débarque! La vie serait insoutenable!

Tout comme la résistance au changement est une réaction naturelle, celle de s’y habituer l’est aussi. Il faut se donner le temps, et souvent le temps suffit. (J’en conviens que ce n’est pas toujours le cas, mais ce sera le sujet d’un autre article.)

Etre conscient de sa capacité naturelle à s’habituer et lui faire confiance permet d’aborder le changement avec plus de sérénité, lorsque l’on sait que l’on devra l’accepter — ou qu’on le désire. Ce n’est pas très compliqué, et on s’économise beaucoup d’agitation inutile.

A quoi vous êtes-vous habitué?

Pêle-mêle de début juillet [fr]

[en] A bunch of random stuff.

Je n’arrive pour le moment pas à m’organiser pour prendre le temps de bloquer “correctement”. Je vous fais du coup le coup (!) de l’article “nouvelles en vrac”. Old-style.

Quintus au balcon sur fond de tomates

C’est le moment d’acheter votre billet pour la conférence Lift à Genève les 6-7-8 février 2013, avant que le prix ne prenne l’ascenseur. Lift, c’est à ne pas manquer. (Si vous avez participé à une édition précédente de Lift, vous avez reçu un code pour le prix “super early bird” de 625 CHF, valable encore un jour ou deux! Ne laissez pas passer le délai!)

C’est aussi le moment, si le coworking est quelque chose qui vous parle, de prendre votre billet pour Coworking Europe, qui aura lieu cette année à Paris les 8-9-10 novembre. Je suis à l’affiche d’un des panels du premier jour.

La Muse ouvre les portes de son espace lausannois, avec pique-nique tous les mardis.

Toujours au chapitre coworking, il y a de la place à l’eclau, tant pour des indépendants/freelance que des startups. Venez visiter!

J’ai pris part pour la première fois à En ligne directe, émission de la RTS qui démarre la veille au soir par un débat sur Twitter (hashtag #EnLD), repris dans le direct du matin avec des invités. Je trouve le concept génial. Le sujet du soir où je suis restée pendue à Twitter (plus que d’habitude) était “faut-il interdire/punir le téléchargement illégal“. Vous imaginez la suite. Pirater n’est pas voler, c’est toujours valable en 2012. Je suis effarée par la mauvaise foi et/ou le lavage de cerveau dont font preuve les “opposants”. Croire que le monde dans lequel on évolue (physique, numérique) et ses caractéristiques ontologiques n’est qu’un point de détail pour débattre d’éthique ou d’économie, qu’économie de rareté vs. économie d’abondance ne change rien à la morale, c’est faire preuve d’une naïveté et d’une simplicité de réflexion affligeante. Le tout repris par Magali Philip dans un Storify magistral.

Le Port de Vidy fait très fort avec ses nouvelles portes high-tech sécurisées.

Un chouette Bloggy Friday a eu lieu en juillet, après celui de juin. Les gens d’internet qui se rencontrent offline, il paraît que c’est le truc nouveau super-tendance de l’été. (Les rencontres IRC d’il y a 15 ans ça compte pas, hein. Ni les rencontres blogueurs, pendant qu’on y est. Ni les rencontres Twitter qui existent depuis des années.) Quelqu’un se lance pour faire l’hôte ou l’hôtesse pour le mois d’août? Ce sera durant ma semaine de déconnexion.

Hercule Poirot cherche toujours un nouveau foyer en Angleterre. Quintus, lui, s’installe bien en Suisse et explique au jeune Tounsi comment respecter ses aînés avec pedigree.

Les plantes sur mon balcon et dans mon appart poussent bien. J’ai des piles de photos, à mettre en ligne et à commenter ici pour vous. En attendant, il y a un groupe Facebook “Petites plantes de balcon et d’ailleurs“, si c’est votre genre.

Ah oui, c’est aussi le moment de vous inscrire pour la troisième session menant au diplôme SAWI de Spécialiste en médias sociaux et communautés en ligne. Dernière séance d’info le 21 août.

Et aussi le moment de postuler (jusqu’au 16 juillet!) si vous pensez être la personne qu’il faut pour prendre la tête du SAWI en Suisse romande. Et je suis toujours ouverte à des candidatures de blogueurs motivés pour le blog de voyage ebookers.ch.

Côté boulot, je suis pas mal bookée, mais j’ai encore de la place pour un mandat long terme de “blogueuse en chef” (ou “redactrice en chef de blog”, si vous préférez).

Inspiration, sur Kickstarter: Bridegroom et Amanda Palmer.

Google aménage ses cafétérias pour encourager ses employés à manger plus sainement. Fascinant.

La plaie des infographies.

Pourquoi les femmes ne peuvent (toujours pas) tout avoir.

Passer du temps à ne rien faire, pour mieux faire.

Et pour finir: l’été de mon chat. (Non, pas le mien, celui du journaliste du Temps.)

Port de Vidy: dépenser plein de sous pour emmerder le monde [en]

Le Port de Vidy à Lausanne fait super fort avec ses super nouvelles portes sécurisées censées empêcher les visiteurs malvenus de venir finir leurs soirées sur nos bateaux.

Porte sécurisée Port de Vidy 1

Première tentative hier pour moi: la porte bloquant l’accès à l’estacade sur laquelle est amarré le Farrniente est… fermée. Tellement fermée que même le badge ne l’ouvre pas.

On teste les autres estacades: la A ne prend pas notre badge mais elle est ouverte, la B prend notre badge mais… elle est ouverte, la C est fermée et prend notre badge, victoire!, sauf que nous sommes à l’estacade D. Qui est vraiment fermée. (Il y a encore E, F, etc qu’on n’a pas testé. Pas très scientifique.)

Heureusement que c’est un jeu d’enfant d’enjamber par le côté les super portes magnifiquement sécurisées. On a quand même pu faire notre régate, et constater que la porte était également verrouillée pour qui arrive depuis l’estacade.

Porte sécurisée Port de Vidy 2

Dois-je préciser aussi qu’un seul badge est donné par bateau? Très pratique pour les équipages “multi-foyers” où l’on ne sait pas toujours qui arrivera en première pour commencer à préparer le bateau…

Moralité: quelqu’un s’est sûrement fait un joli pactole avec cette histoire qui sert principalement à emmerder les propriétaires de bateaux et leurs équipages et ne risque pas de décourager les visiteurs indésirables. Seuls gagnants sur place: les grèbes huppés, qui peuvent nicher presque en paix.

Grèbe huppé tranquille

Tiens, ça me rappelle que je n’ai toujours pas écrit l’article incendiaire que j’avais dans les doigts concernant le passage de ma porte d’immeuble de l’humble clé au moderne digicode…

Cockerel, Anybody? [en]

[fr] Plein de nouvelles!

So, what’s up?

I’m in the UK. I’m helping Aleika find a new home for one of her cockerels, Hercule Poirot. He’s a super-good-looking guy, and he takes his job with the hens very seriously.

Hercule Poirot Head Shots 4

Do you know anybody in the UK who has chickens (hens!) and would like a stunning rooster to look over them? Do let me know.

I have had a week of holiday planned here for months, and in between Safran’s death and Somak’s appointment as Professor of Physics at Presidency University, Kolkata (so… back to India for the three of them!), we decided I would be taking Quintus back with me.

Quintus in Birmingham 6

Do you know any good people in Calcutta/Kolkata? I’m particularly interested in getting in touch with

  • people who are into organic farming/gardening in the area
  • expats who have done the move from the UK sometime during the last three years or so (moving companies! shipping! organisation!)

For those who may not know, Bagha was also initially Aleika’s cat, and I adopted him when they moved from India to the UK, coming back home from India with him in my luggage. So, a little sense of déjà vu here 😉

On the work front, the OrangeCinema Official Bloggers project is underway. I spent a few days grading final reports for the course on social media and online communities I co-direct in Lausanne (some excellent, I have to say) and we’re preparing to welcome students for the third year of the course in September. I am looking for more writers for the ebookers.ch travel blog, and eclau is looking forward to everyone in Lausanne hearing more about coworking through the opening of a second space there, La Muse (which started out in Geneva). I will by the way be attending the Coworking Europe Conference 2012 in Paris (and probably speaking, will confirm in a couple of weeks). I have rekindled my enthusiasm for organising Bloggy Friday meetups (please do come to the next one, July 6th!) There’s more to say, but this is becoming a long paragraph 😉

What else should I tell you? I’m reading Drive, by Dan Pink, a fascinating book on motivation — and you should too, whether you’re interested in how your own motivation works, or in how to keep other people motivated (I’m thinking of taking a Sagmeister). I’ve started a group on Facebook for people in and around my area (and a bit further out) who like growing stuff on their balcony and elsewhere. I’m in the process of figuring out how to continue juggling judo, sailing, and singing (answer: be super organized). On the way to Birmingham, I stopped by for a day to stay with Steph and meet Emile The Cat.

Emile The Cat 1

I might not have told you, but Steph is my organisation inspiration (amongst many other things, which include being a very good friend!) and so I seized the occasion to face my calendar head-on and get a few holiday/travel dates sorted out. Short version: I don’t have a week-end available until June 2013 (don’t panic for me: it includes week-ends I have blocked out as “must stay at home and relax”).

I’ve also been realizing what a long way I’ve come regarding my organisational and time-management skills. Oh, I still fall in the pit every now and again, but a few discussions lately with people who seem to share the same core issues I have (had?) with time management, procrastination, perfectionism made me realize how far I have traveled.

I’m sure there was other stuff I wanted to say/blog about, but that’s the lovely thing about a blog, right? I can just write about it tomorrow, or the day after, or when I think of it. “Just.”

Memories of Safran [en]

[fr] Souvenirs de Safran.

Safran was put to sleep on Thursday. I’m still very sad, though I’m not end-of-the-world devastated like when Bagha died. Tounsi seems OK, but of course it’s hard to say. I’m upset, our routines have changed because Safran isn’t there. He doesn’t seem to be pining or going around looking for Safran, in any case.

New Cats 89.jpg

Safran was with me for just a little over two months, and I feel the need to put in writing the memories I have of him — the good ones, mainly — I think part of me is afraid I’m going to move on and settle down in my life with my remaining cat and forget little Safran. I won’t, of course, but memories do fade away. Prepare for some rambling and a pile of kitty photographs.

Safran perched on the tree

Continue readingMemories of Safran [en]

Bye Safran: FIP is a Bitch [en]

[fr] Safran est malade: il a le FIP/PIF et doit être endormi -- il n'y rien à faire pour le sauver.

I got home from the vet a couple of hours ago. I’d taken Safran because he seemed under the weather (I got home from vacation yesterday evening). I thought he had a cold.

He has FIP. The wet form. My vet says he has a success rate of roughly 50% with the dry form, but has to this day never saved a single cat who had developed the wet form. I’ll let you read up more on this nasty disease.

Safran 2

I’m heartbroken. I’ll be going back to the vet’s tomorrow afternoon to put Safran to sleep. In the meantime, we’re saying good-bye. We were just starting to warm up to one another.

I like to think that although his post-shelter life will have been short (2 month), it will have been a good one.