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Abstract

phrasebook.In theory, you’d think I’d be better than I am, with five years of high school German under my belt. Perhaps I’ve been sitting on it for too long.<h1 id="6cf8">Remember the days</h1>I remember one of those lessons, way, way back. The first class after lunch, never a good time for paying the strictest attention, and there was a disturbance in the corridor outside. Someone yelling and bumping into things.We all looked at each other, and the teacher muttered at the distraction.Suddenly the door burst open and a man staggered in. An old guy, somebody’s grandfather maybe. He was rotten drunk, and he looked over we teens.“If it wasn’t for me,” he declared, banging his fist on a desk, “youse’d all be speaking German today!”“That’s exactly right,” said our teacher. “Thank you for your service.”BritniMore on Germany:<div id="562d" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/i-stumbled-over-some-street-people-17eb94e2961c"

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            <h2>I Stumbled over some Street People</h2>
            <div><h3>Brass “stumble stones” recall the victims of the Holocaust</h3></div>
            <div><p>medium.com</p></div>
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    </div><p id="dcd6"><i>Britni Pepper writes for <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Britni-Pepper/e/B07PHWN5TM"></a></i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Britni-Pepper/e/B07PHWN5TM">Kindle Direct Publishing<i></i></a><i>. She runs a <a href="https://britnipepper.com/">blog</a> where she reviews erotica, and rambles on about this and that. She may be reached on <a href="https://twitter.com/britnipepper">Twitter</a> and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/britni.pepper.bp">Facebook</a>.</i></p><figure id="0d45"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/0*-fbxL4yLYX6nsM9A.png"><figcaption></figcaption></figure></article></body>

Battling the German Peril

Why my struggle never ends

I ran into a fellow student from last year’s German class this morning. We exchanged a few words — in French, as it happened — and she asked if I’d be continuing on.

I suppose I should. I’m nowhere near 100%, but I’m okay for reading. A good conversational class would get the words fixed into my speaking parts, and Himmel knows they are pretty hesitant at coming out in public where people might hear them! If I’m reading or writing something, I have the luxury of looking up the dictionary, and puzzling out which bit of grammar goes where.

But if I’m speaking, or listening, entirely different parts of my brain are employed, and I can’t stop to thumb through a phrasebook.

In theory, you’d think I’d be better than I am, with five years of high school German under my belt. Perhaps I’ve been sitting on it for too long.

Remember the days

I remember one of those lessons, way, way back. The first class after lunch, never a good time for paying the strictest attention, and there was a disturbance in the corridor outside. Someone yelling and bumping into things.

We all looked at each other, and the teacher muttered at the distraction.

Suddenly the door burst open and a man staggered in. An old guy, somebody’s grandfather maybe. He was rotten drunk, and he looked over we teens.

“If it wasn’t for me,” he declared, banging his fist on a desk, “youse’d all be speaking German today!”

“That’s exactly right,” said our teacher. “Thank you for your service.”

Britni

More on Germany:

I Stumbled over some Street People

Brass “stumble stones” recall the victims of the Holocaust

medium.com

Britni Pepper writes for Kindle Direct Publishing. She runs a blog where she reviews erotica, and rambles on about this and that. She may be reached on Twitter and Facebook.