merde!
It's surprising how three hours of French doesn't even make me blink.
But thirty minutes more, from 4-4:30, sweating over a sermon from Evreux, with someone whispering about forty feet away, and my comprehension of the grammar draining out of me till all I'm doing is translating word-by-word...
That last thirty minutes has me wanting to stab the dictionary. Tipping point much?
But thirty minutes more, from 4-4:30, sweating over a sermon from Evreux, with someone whispering about forty feet away, and my comprehension of the grammar draining out of me till all I'm doing is translating word-by-word...
That last thirty minutes has me wanting to stab the dictionary. Tipping point much?