I’m an immigrant. English is not even my second or third language. It is my fourth language! My teachers learnt me to speak and write reasonably well, but you know what’s most difficult to get right? The idioms! Those wonderful, shorthand expressions which capture the spirit of a culture so well.I know, to you Americans it seems as easy as cake. Piece of pie, right? Not to me. I still feel like a baby in the woods.
But please, don’t correct me. It would be like putting pepper in the wound. Adding oil to the fire! Sometimes I finally get it right, and that makes me so happy, I feel I am on cloud seven. In ninth heaven, really (or is it the other way around?)
I just flew back across the lake. Spent a month in Europe. When I fly, I like to chew the meat with the person sitting next to me. You know, time flees, when you’re having a toast. Although sometimes I get cold toes, if the person next to me seems unfriendly. Of course, occasionally the chairs are turned, and I am the one who turns someone the cold elbow.
I was really frugal in Europe, you know. I spent very little. I lived on a shoelace. I have always believed that a dollar saved is a dollar earned. As Benjamin Franklin said, an idiot and his money are soon departed. I don’t believe in living high on the pig. But sometimes it’s a Catch 32. Sometimes you see things that sell like hot pies ( or is it hot cookies?) and you just want to take the steer by the horns and spend money like a marine. After all, you can’t carry it with you!
I realize that talking is cheap, and sometimes I want to have my pie and eat it too. I guess it’s best to let sleeping cats lie, and not to let the dog out of the bag. Believe me, I’ll leave no moss unturned in order to get this ape off my back!
But I suppose I shouldn’t sweat the little stuff. It’s not a large deal. I shouldn’t put all my eggs in one pot, or compare apples and pears. After all, laughter is the best medication.leave comment here
