Things I’ll never be able to do…

Today Vonnie asked a question: 

Do you speak more than one language?  How did you learn the additional languages?

As I pondered my utter failure to learn any other language anything like well enough to get beyond frustration I realised that there are many things I’ll never be able to do. 

Languages. I passed an O Grade in French and promptly forgot everything I learned… or so I thought. Then when I tried to learn Spanish – living in a Spanish-speaking country and doing lessons wasn’t apparently enough, although I did discover that I hadn’t forgotten all the French as odd words insisted on appearing in the middle of Spanish sentences. So no I can understand some Spanish when it’s spoken and read some French and it’s anyone’s guess what language you’ll get when I try to answer a question. 

Gardening. I mean, really, how hard can it be? Very actually. I have whatever the opposite of green fingers. 


Sketching. I’d love to be able to make a drawing look the way that it looks in my head, but I’ve never managed it. 

Tidiness. Some people create order in their wake… I don’t, but, good grief, I’ve tried. 

Care too much about my appearance. Very very occasionally I’ve tried to be glamorous and ‘well-put-together’ the effort has always been too much to sustain for more than about 10 minutes. 

Follow a recipe. On the face of it, this should be the simplest thing. Just read what it says and follow the instructions. I think I’ve managed it maybe twice and decided it wasn’t worth the discipline. In any case, busking turns out Ok… most of the time. 

Do craft. I hate it all that sticking and gluing and fixing. Makes a mess and never works out. I suppose it’s like following the recipe without the benefit of a bowl to lick. 

Run fast. Just not built for it. 

See the point of oysters. Like snot with grit in it. 

Be ready early. If there’s not a deadline, it won’t happen. And even if it does, it’ll be with moments to spare. 

Remember my own phone number. Really. I’ve had the same mobile number since early 2000 and I still don’t know it off by heart.  

Considering this catalogue of inability and failure – all of which I have comfortably come to terms with, it’s no wonder I’m not a polyglot, or even a duoglot if such a thing existed. Ho hum.