I used to speak French!

J'etais en retard; c'est a dire que j'ai commence a me preparer pour partir a six heures, mais il etait neuf heures et demie quand j'ai finalement quitte la maison....

I'm trying to pack up all of my books. Still. Thirty boxes later. I have most of the actual books packed up, but the bookshelves aren't bare yet. They're still cluttered with "not quite a book but it still belongs on the bookshelf" stuff.

Like the binder of kindergarten projects David did in school. One was a picture of him in the middle of a yellow felt flower. I looked at him and thought about how that little kid grew up to be the man I love and how my little kindergarten son is also growing up so quickly. I can already see the man inside of him.

And then I found the binder from the last French class I ever took in college. And I could barely read my own paper. But how exhilarating to be reminded that I once had that kind of brain power! I really have to get back to school. I think I found the community college where I want to go as soon as possible. I've really missed that kind of stimulation.