My new word for the day
I used to think I had good French until I drove a car from LeHarvre to Lourdes. I discovered that, while I could rabbit on about the “plume de ma tante” etc, at a fair pace, when it came to the inner workings of the automobile, I was dumbstruck. I barely knew the word for petrol, let alone all the terms that have become commonplace since the man on the Clapham omnibus started driving a model T Ford. One could blame my teachers, but at the time I was learning French, I had no need for such words and didn’t bother to learn them. Now that I need, them, my grey matter seems unwilling to absorb them. That is, as they say, life. Continue Reading »