I was at the store today and struck up a conversation with the woman bagging my groceries. I told her that I envied the fact that she is bilingual.
DH and I both had a year of Spanish in high school in addition to two of Latin. I can remember the opening conversation in the SRA module for Spanish I, and I quoted it to my bagger, who looked confused. I explained that it was the first thing they had us memorize….a conversation between two friends. “Hola, Isobelle…..”
She told me that her son, who is bilingual, had taken Spanish in school and was getting poor grades. It seems that his teacher had a Castillian accent, and her son was unwilling to adapt to it, from the dialect he had learned at home. When he finally wised up to the waste of time, it was too late, and he’d lost a year of study.
DH hopes to sail again in water deeper and bluer than that of Lake Michigan. He picked up a book that gives him phrases to use should he need help repairing a diesel engine in a port where only Spanish is spoken. It seems to me that he needs to know how to say….”It’s broken. It won’t go. How much to fix it?” and that should get him by, but you know that he’ll memorize the names for motor parts, figuring that it will be cheaper if he does his own labor.
How do you say “carburator” in Spanish???

Our social obligations for the Spring have come to an end. At least….the more formal ones. Today we held a tea for the members of my mother’s Empty Nesters group. Just seven people attended, but they were the most gregarious group I’ve ever seen! I visited with them as they came in, and answered some questions about the house and my quilts, and then begged off to go work in the office. I figured my Mother deserved to be the center of attention.
Mother had picked up some deli-made cookies at the grocery store, and I had intended to bake some muffins for her, but I ran out of time. Instead, I visited a more upscale bakery and brought home a dozen two-bite sized cup cakes, some raspberry ribbons, raspberry tarts, and strawberries. An hour before the tea, I learned how to dip strawberries in chocolate for the very first time.
The group obviously had a great time. I could hear their chatter from my office, all the way across the house. Mother offered tea, and iced tea. They declined coffee or soda pop, and when I returned to see them off, I couldn’t resist a little teasing. There was not a strawberry to be seen, there was one cupcake left, and three raspberry ribbons. “What did you do? Lick the plate???”
It was a joy to be able to share our gardens with a knowledgeable group of gardeners, and the comfort of our house with good friends. In return, they gave us the gift of their time, and we are feeling very fortunate.

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When I was a child, there were billboards everywhere. You couldn’t get into the car and make a short trip without seeing dozens of them. And, when the contract for the advertising was up, if the owner of the billboard didn’t have a new client, the message would weather, and ultimately, begin to shred, and you’d see layers of previous advertisments begin to peek through.
In 1970, the Federal Goverment passed the Highway Beautification Act, in response to Ladybird Johnson’s efforts to protect scenic highways. States were required to adopt stringent billboard laws on “federal aid” highways, or loose federal funding. Most states rushed to enact anti-billboard laws, but Illinois dragged its feet.
So, for the past thirty years the Illinois courts have been flooded with cases of contested signs. The district courts have disagreed, reversed themselves and been overridden by higher courts as case after case has been argued. Ultimately, with the help of federal appeals courts, it has been decided that home rule cities have the right to control billboards along federal highways.
The Illinois Highway Advertising Control Act of 1972 allows billboards along federal aid highways to 1,200 square feet in area, 30 feet in height and 60 feet in length. Signs may not be closer together than 100 feet in incorporated areas.
So now, rather than dozens of signs, cutting off our view past the roadway, we have huge towers, with signs the size of small apartments, standing sentinel along our federal highways
I don’t understand just why Illinois was so unwilling to follow the lead of other states to clean up our roads. There must have been one heck of an advertising lobby, or a HUGE bribe somewhere, for them to have dragged their feet all these years. It’s disgusting that the first thought in my mind is “bribe,” but the actions of our officials leave little else to the imagination.
Of all the signs along the road, my favorite had to be the Burma-Shave signs. Signs in groups of six began appearing along the roadside in 1925. At their peak, there were 7,000 Burma-Shave signs marching across America. 1963 was the last year a new Burma-Shave sign went up. Here’s an example of their homilies:
On the curves ahead
Remember sonny
That rabbit’s foot
Didn’t save
The bunny
Burma Shave
I wonder what the State of Illinois would have to say about the Burma-Shave signs?
This is part of a chain of posts linked together by word association. The previous link in the chain was here. If you want to write another link here’s what to do: Find a word, phrase or theme from this post to inspire your own and go and write it. It’s that simple. Try not to write something that’s similar to this post. That way the subject of the posts along the chain will vary. E.g. if I write about going to the doctor’s, then don’t talk about the last time you were ill, instead describe how you used to play Doctors and Nurses with the girl next door. Get the idea? Your post can be in any style you want. Copy this paragraph and tack it onto the end of your post, updating the link to point here, then leave a comment here that points to your new post.