Non, Je ne regrette rien…

… sauf que je ne peux pas parler une langue étrangère. * translation a the end for those who need it.

I’ve been reading through various website recently and have noticed that there are some things going on:

  1. English teenagers and young adults have poor literacy skills.
  2. Universities are reducing language courses.
  3. Children who fall behind in their reading skills by age seven will struggle to keep up.
  4. Fewer children read in their spare time or for enjoyment. 

I’ve been quite lucky, I don’t have dyslexia as many people in my family do, I’ve always been pretty good at English and I was forced to take a Modern Foreign Language (MFL) at GCSE.  Hang on, why does that make me lucky? I didn’t particularly enjoy doing it, many of my classmates hated it, but I think that studying French for 5 (sort of 7, but I’ll get to that) years improved my English.

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How do you measure, measure a year?

Five hundred, twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes.  Thanks to Jonathan Larson I know how many minutes there are in a year.

So as I’m writing this it’s now been five hundred, twenty five thousand, six hundred and sixty minutes since Dad died.  It’s odd, to be able to know that.  I won’t again, counting in minutes would be silly, it’s back to years and months after this.  But it’s a number that fits snuggly into the musical phrase that was designed around it.

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