Starting Wednesday, I am going to take an online Spanish class through my school.  Yay!  Last year I did Forensics for Writers and really enjoyed it.  In fact I found myself babbling happily about adipocere at the dinner table once, which maybe wasn’t so appropriate.  I seem to have these jobs and interests again and again that keep me supplied with non-mealtime discussion topics:  wastewater treatment malfunctions, putrefying fish entrails, caring for individuals with incontinence and behavioral issues.

Anyway, after Speed Spanish there are Speed Spanishes II and III, if I like.  I took a summer class in Spanish when I was … I don’t know, eleven?  The teacher was Peruvian, slim and elegant with silver bracelets on her wrists and a knee-lenth cascade of black hair.  As we progressed over the weeks she would encourage us more and more to think in Spanish.  Maybe an hour into class we would take ten in our seats — put our heads on our desks and “think in a Spanish.  Think in a Spanish,” I can still hear her murmuring.

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