Here are a couple more pictures. One shows the kind of funny, but kind of sweet vignettes the landlady has created in the unusable space where the eaves meet the floor. The other shows my closet and in the foreground (which has now been rearranged to make it work better) the table that Sister Rose and I use for our homework. Which we do faithfully every night, normally ending up laughing hilariously about something.
What do we laugh about? Well, here is just a small example. In our test last week we had to write an essay describing a trip in our own country for French visitors who might want to come there. To make a long story short, I wrote about the Peabody Essex Museum and my vocabulary was stretched. I wrote about whaling, which I translated as chasse du balleine (literally hunt of whale). And I described scrimshaw, saying that the whalers cut designs on the bones of whales and rubbed ink in them. So far so good, mostly. But whalers was the sticking point. I decided to use the logical chasseurs du baleines - hunters of whales.
However, that afternoon I had one of those waves of anxiety when I suddenly thought that instead of "chasseurs", I might have written 'chaussures du baleines', which would translate as 'whale shoes'.
For two days, until the test was returned, Rose and I laughed hilariously everytime we thought about whale shoes. As it turns out I had stumbled on the right terms and hadn't written whale shoes.
I was glad, of course, that my nightmarish vision of my teacher laughing hysterically and showing my paper to all the other teachers, who also laughed uproariously etc. wasn't true.
However, in the future, I may be forced to claim that I actually did make this mistake because it's so funny.