Back in my '30s, I used to visit my ex-wife's grandfather on a Sunday morning, once a month. He'd call and invite me for breakfast. He never did speak good English and as he aged, he spoke only Italian. He'd whip up a great frittata loaded with sausage, bacon, eggs and cheese. With it we … Read more
I was approached by a suburban council to call square dances at an event for aged people and, when I arrived, I discovered that it was also a multicultural affair and that only a minority spoke English. Getting somebody who can't understand you to allemande left or docey-do can be a bit of a challenge.
As … Read more