My public school education in the US led me to believe that most everyone in the world speaks English, and if they don't, they SHOULD. My schools in Colorado, known for as much diversity as skim milk, offered language classes beginning in 7th grade. Spanish was the obviously cool and practical choice, growing up with the base of "margarita" and "chips and salsa." French was for the few smarty pants kids who wanted to feel different or superior, and the German class had 5 students in its prime since no one spoke German in the area. At least the French students could practice their French at The Melting Pot. Mmm, fondue!
November 28, 2011
November 23, 2011
It's comeback time for The Cackling Hen! I didn't shave my head or gain 30 pounds during this three-month hiatus, but I did join my first Hens on Ice tour. Being on the road and on the ice full time leaves far less time to write, let alone anything semi-clever, compared to working part time and living in my parents' house. The Hens on Ice world also makes a different kind of blog material. "I spent 12 hours in my skates and three hens fell awkwardly and we all cackled" doesn't even make a paragraph.