put it on my card

"[His coach] incorporated beds, dining facilities and a library. Such [coaches] were designed not only to free the traveller from the discomfort of public transport but also to display wealth, status, technological superiority and, as John Ruskin put it, to achieve 'the abashing of plebian beholders.'"


When I read that portion of The Economist's book review of The Smell of the Continent: The British Discover Europe, I was positive the reviewer was discussing some latter-day motor homeowner. Caravans to Normandy -- and all that, what what.


But I was wrong.


The coach described is Lord Byron's. I find it somewhat amusing that even in the early nineteenth century, Byron would pack up his own peculiar vision of This Sceptred Isle while trundling off on The Grand Tour.


I chuckled imagining the author of The Destruction of Semnacherib, scratching out his iambic pentameter on the equivalent of a Winnebago captain's chair.


My middle brow tendencies are exacerbated by the mere mention of Lord Byron's name. It is hard to get Ogden Nash's Very Like a Whale rhymes out of your mind once they are ensconced. And, far as I know, Ogden Nash never sat in a Winnebago -- nineteenth or twentieth century versions.


All of this musing on motor homes, Byron, and Nash started on Sunday afternoon when I realized I am creating a project dilemma for myself -- and I see no way out of it.


I am starting to take my Spanish lessons more seriously. Merely going to class one hour a day, three days a week is not getting me where I need to be with the language.


The positive side is that I am having some conversations with Marta where we actually pass information. Our conversation about the king snake (la culebra) was fun and filled with malapropisms.


And I am wading around in nouns and verbs at the shallow end of the pool with the local merchants. Sometimes even getting my face in the water. That is something.


But the only way I am going to develop any proficiency is to start applying some of the suggestions I have picked up from Mexico Bob.


He suggested a thrifty (and effective) way to expand vocabulary. I modified it a bit by purchasing some 3x5 index cards and a recipe size box.





I then spent Saturday and a good part of Sunday writing Spanish words and phrases (in maroon) on one side of the card with the English translation (in blue) on the other side.


I learned in law school that if I hear something, write it down, and write it down again, I will retain it -- as long as I then put the information to use. Back then, it was case law. Now, it is Spanish case and tense.


Tedious? You bet. I can tell when I am losing my effectiveness: I start mixing up my colors for the two languages. That also mean I am not retaining the new words.


I wish I had started this method when I began my classes. But I was not certain what to expect from the in-class time.


Once I get caught up with the prior class notes this week, I can then reduce each new day's words to cards on the evening of the class itself.


On Monday we are going to start conjugating the verbs "to be" and "to say." That will give my analytical mind a target.


The dilemma is: until I get my cards created, I am not going to have time to get away from the house. (I will confess that I have been catching up on some of my magazines.)


And, after I get the cards done, I am going to need to devote more time to studying. But, I also know, I cannot make Spanish my sole occupation for the next few months.


The moment I try that, I will be jumping in Lord Byron's motor home and heading north across the border where culebra is just another word for nothing else to lose.