Saturday, 29 January 2011

Memories. And grammar.

So I'm one of three. Belgian Waffle (right-click to open in a new tab) talked about having an odd number of kids to make things easier. I say this is wrong, wrong, wrong. The reason my parents only had three kids was because in 1986, the only option for large families was the Mitsubishi space wagon. And my Dad vetoed it almost from the start. Some parents think that having an odd number of children saves you from being the adjudicator. I say start from five. Especially if you regularly make twelve-hour journeys to Inverness in an Austin Montego. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on BBC audiobooks was the only thing that saved Britain from World War Three circa 1990.

I promised grammar. I know you love it. But not Polish this time.

Today, I went to the bakery down the road to order a demi-baguette to go with my smelly francophonic cheese. 'Demi' in French is masculine. I swear. I went to the bakery and mumbled something about 'un demi-baguette'.

- Une baguette.
insisted the baker. Une baguette!

I repeated that I wanted a demi goddammit. She offered me cheese and ham to go with.

Bad French days. They happen. However long you study the damn language, I guarantee it...


Anonymous said...

Level 42 Lyrics
"Level 42 Running In The Family lyrics"

Our dad would send us to our room
He'd be the voice of doom
He said that we would thank him later
All day he was solid as a rock
But by eight o'clock we'd be crumbling

One night, my brother Joe and me
Climbed down the family tree
That grew outside our bedroom window
We ran though we knew it couldn't last
Running from the past
From things that we were born to be

Looking back it's so bizarre
It runs in the family
All the things we are
On the back seat of the car
With Joseph and Emily
We only see so far
And we all have our daddy's eyes
Looking back it's so bizarre

Dad rang the officer in charge
A man so large he barely fitted his circumstances
He said two kids out on the street
Were picked up on the beat
And in the station

So there's me with Emily and Joe
And daddy driving home
All heading in the same direction
He knew no matter what the breaks
We'd make the same mistakes
Couldn't take his eyes off Joe and me

It runs in the family
All the things we are
Looking back it's so bizarre
Like a dream within a dream
We're all somewhere in between
Like a drummer with his drum
Like a father, like a son
You're gonna have to face the music, oh yeah
(Face the music)

Hey hey, we keep it running in the family
Hey hey, we keep on coming in the family

Running in the family...
And we all have our daddy's eyes...
Looking back it's so bizarre...

Anonymous said...

It seeems to be about fate and life repeating itself etc.

pinolona said...

ah. ok. I'm not sure why I put it on the blog actually. Possibly withdrawing this post cos it's a bit weird!

Anonymous said...

No! don't withdraw the post, I like the song lyrics and that your post brought it to my attention, thanks.

When did people selling obwarzanek and bagette's become guardians of their respective languages?! But it does help us remember how to say something, better than someone who says nothing at all if you don't manage to develop a phobia of people selling baked goods!!!!!

I look forward to reading your posts, when will you be going to Poland again? I look forward to hearing your stories from there, what do you think of the new fountain think in the square in Krakow, I saw it on the net.

pinolona said...

thanks! ah well I withdrew it anyway never mind...

I may not go back to Poland until August :-( possibly will be there for a weekend or something in April if all goes well... but I'll definitely check out fountains and so on if I do!

papageno said...

Haha, I remember that song from my childhood in the very early '90s, but never knew who recorded it. Thanks pino :)

And also some sad, bakery-related news straight from Poland: save your money for obwarzanki.

Jeannie said...

With all of the chastising, you are so lucky to be there learning French and being immersed. And to eat real French bread. Yum. Enjoy it all.

joey said...


Dlaczego uczyłaś się języka polskiego?


pinolona said...

Bo nie umiem grać w Sudoku.