Ok – so, to be honest I took last week off. Jen’s mom was visiting from Wisconson and we did touristy things that did not require practicing Spanish.

I know, I know – I could have practiced anyway and that is why I am telling you…a sort of confession. I did teach Mary (Jen’s mom) a few words and phrases.

On the second day of her visit we hopped on the bus so that we could make a trip in to Grecia, walk around a bit and have lunch. We sat toward the front of the bus and after a couple of bus stops an older gentleman and, what looked to be, his middle aged daughter, got on.

Well, this man, unfortunately, had a screw or 2 loose and began chatting up my mother-in-law. Needless to say Mary learned her first phrase. No Habla Español. The front of the bus was filled with passengers that knew the gentleman and they smiled apologetically in our direction.

The conversation continued until, at one stop, some unfortunate soul got on the bus and sat by our new friend and he turned his attention to his new seat partner.

Learning Spanish Poco a Paco

Before you get all wrist-slappy-righteous and say Greg(orio) it’s Poco a Poco (little by little), hear my out. My Spanish goal for this week is to read (and comprehend?) a book our friend gave us that she read as a child. Paco y Lola.

Think of it as a Dick and Jane book. See Dick. See Dick Run. See Dick Run Towads Spanish with Open Arms.

Paco

 

So, I hop back on that Spanish wagon again and think about what General Custer said so long ago:

“It’s not how many times you get knocked down that count, it’s how many times you get back up.”

Hasta la próxima semana,

Greg

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