Although language skills develop through the years, some just develop quicker than others. Accents also vary tremendously, yet provide a great conversation starter. Fred's News was located in the village of Baltic, Connecticut, where the French Canadian heritage is as "tick as da fog, dat lay on da rivair" (thick as the fog that lays on the river). Moving from the small town of Franklin to MY first home ten minutes away in the Village of Baltic was very much a culture shock. First, I'd never experienced village life, where people actually sat on there front steps, porch or in lawn chairs out in the yard. Yes, my parents always sat outside but neighbors very rarely walked by. We lived in "the country". Occasionally a bike would pedal by or perhaps a neighbor from up the road a piece would venture out on a warm summer eve, but basically, it was nature that we listened to or enjoyed watching. So, as a young Mom I enjoyed strolling through the village with my young son, quickly learning every one's name. What I particularly enjoyed, the older French Canadian ladies. They very much reminded me of my Memere and her sisters. Although Memere vowed never to talk like "she'd just came down from Canada", her sisters did. Always such a sweet sound, listening to these older ladies fuss over my infant son, was so peaceful.
In later years we would purchase Fred's News, many of the older folks no longer around, yet some of the accents remained. Although, I hadn't really listened to anyone speak French Canadian in ages, there were bits and pieces that allowed me to get the gist of some of the conversations, while still remaining undetected. Amazing some of the conversations I heard, at times wanting to correct the speaker but yet enjoying the eavesdropping. Listening to the variety of languages spoken by the young female students at the Academy of the Holy Family also intrigued me. Spanish, seemed so complicated yet as I listened, asked questioned and listened more, familiar phases repeated, eventually I was bound to pick up some of it. I thought it a very fast language...although between myself and Patty O. were can spiel a sentence in English at lightening speed.
Some languages are so romantic, Parisian-French is such a language. Although I cannot remember the exact year, the World Special Olympics came to Connecticut, each Town sponsoring a team from another country. Mrs. G headed up the committee for the Town of Sprague. Sponsor homes needed to found, interpreters, transportation and many other needs had to be met. Sprague sponsored the African nation of Gabon where French is the predominate language. The children that arrived, adorable, some quite shy, others, not so much. Breakfast at Fred's News, part of their itinerary. With the entourage of people that followed the group, Fred's News filled up fast, some of our regulars, helping as servers and crowd control, Thanks Glenn! These children...lovable, excited eager to tell stories, what they had seen on their daily excursions, what they had done and how they had fared in the competitions. As the interpreters explained to all the curious onlookers what each child said, I listened to the language, so romantic, so beautiful, it flowed from their precious lips. I did not understand much, they spoke fast adding the excitement and pitch to their voices, made it all the more difficult. Yet, one word and one word only not only caught my attention but of most of the onlookers, reminding us of the commercial "when E.F. Hutton speaks" there was total silence, one could hear the "proverbial pin drop". Phoque, the French word for the adorable sleek skinned animal, known as a SEAL, was the show stopper. Phoque pronounced f*#k, grabbed EVERY ONE'S attention. With only a few select people understanding the child's story, one can only imagine what the rest of the onlookers though had just been blurted from this innocent child's precious lips God love the child! Please forgive those that thought otherwise!
In later years we would purchase Fred's News, many of the older folks no longer around, yet some of the accents remained. Although, I hadn't really listened to anyone speak French Canadian in ages, there were bits and pieces that allowed me to get the gist of some of the conversations, while still remaining undetected. Amazing some of the conversations I heard, at times wanting to correct the speaker but yet enjoying the eavesdropping. Listening to the variety of languages spoken by the young female students at the Academy of the Holy Family also intrigued me. Spanish, seemed so complicated yet as I listened, asked questioned and listened more, familiar phases repeated, eventually I was bound to pick up some of it. I thought it a very fast language...although between myself and Patty O. were can spiel a sentence in English at lightening speed.
Some languages are so romantic, Parisian-French is such a language. Although I cannot remember the exact year, the World Special Olympics came to Connecticut, each Town sponsoring a team from another country. Mrs. G headed up the committee for the Town of Sprague. Sponsor homes needed to found, interpreters, transportation and many other needs had to be met. Sprague sponsored the African nation of Gabon where French is the predominate language. The children that arrived, adorable, some quite shy, others, not so much. Breakfast at Fred's News, part of their itinerary. With the entourage of people that followed the group, Fred's News filled up fast, some of our regulars, helping as servers and crowd control, Thanks Glenn! These children...lovable, excited eager to tell stories, what they had seen on their daily excursions, what they had done and how they had fared in the competitions. As the interpreters explained to all the curious onlookers what each child said, I listened to the language, so romantic, so beautiful, it flowed from their precious lips. I did not understand much, they spoke fast adding the excitement and pitch to their voices, made it all the more difficult. Yet, one word and one word only not only caught my attention but of most of the onlookers, reminding us of the commercial "when E.F. Hutton speaks" there was total silence, one could hear the "proverbial pin drop". Phoque, the French word for the adorable sleek skinned animal, known as a SEAL, was the show stopper. Phoque pronounced f*#k, grabbed EVERY ONE'S attention. With only a few select people understanding the child's story, one can only imagine what the rest of the onlookers though had just been blurted from this innocent child's precious lips God love the child! Please forgive those that thought otherwise!
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