Wednesday, 3 December 2014

My spelling mistakes are typos, not spelling.

It was my turn to write the argomento for today's Italian class. I wrote on the subject of oratory, having been so deeply moved by Noel Pearson's wonderful tribute to Gough Whitlam.

Notwithstanding my diligent efforts,  I made many mistakes. You would think I would learn. I have just finished writing my bit for my other Italian class tomorrow. It probably contains just as many errors, if not more.  My learning curve is worsening. However, at least I know the difference between adjectives and adverbs, unlike Christopher Pyne, the Minister for Education, who this evening, in the course of defending his cuts to the education budget, twice used adjectives instead of adverbs. And a double comparative. How can he hold up his head? I dashed off a Letter to the Editor, but I bet it will not be published.

There were wild storms this evening, and I had to run around putting towels to soak up the water which was driven under the doors. The storms seem to come from the west. My area, generally, seldom seems badly affected.

There was a minor disaster. The garage truck has hit and broken a part of my brick garage wall, so I have had to ring the local council, to get them to make the garbage contractor fix it up. The garbage collectors damaged the wall in February this year, and I think twice a year is twice too many. Alas and woe.

In moves to keep myself in top of things I have booked my flights so as to attend the family gathering, arranged to see an old friend, and made an appointment to get my tax return done. And I have gone through the bookshelves again, and am discarding old books which I would probably never get around to reading. Such as novels by Evelyn Waugh. There are so many more recent books piling up, and it seems that these days I read more history and biography than fiction. And I am chucking out much of the blank writing pads which Dr P had, so old that they are foolscap and not A4. There is thus a little more shelf space available.

 I am reminded of the doleful and depressing advice given by Prince Albert, the Prince Consort, to his son, the Prince of Wales. "Life is composed of diuties... " he intoned. Bertie thought otherwise, and so do I.

3 comments:

Elephant's Child said...

Christopher Pyne is a sterling example of why we need more education, not less. Never less.
Shudder on the tax front. An after Christmas chore.
And yay for more fun and less duty.

Stomper Girl said...

May I have the Evelyn Waughs please?

Isabelle said...

Oh, life is indeed composed of duties but frankly it would be boring if we could just please ourselves the whole time. I think.