My Pop's God-mother & her husband (my Uncle Nick) were in town for a couple of days. I love this couple; and if I've ever met a story-teller it would be my Uncle Nick. Born in Croatia, he grew up in Northern Ontario mining towns. He spent 41 years underground working in those mines. Despite all these years in Canada he still weaves amazing stories of 'the old country'. (I learned the other night that these stories need not be fueled by home brewed red wine...though they seem a bit warmer after a glass or two).
His story that made me smile so recently has to do with the things people first learn in a new language. Out came the story of Uncle John not knowing the word for toilet on one of his many trips to Croatia. Uncle Nick provides a translation of how villagers refer to visiting the bathroom/washroom/toilet: "I'm going to the place I need to go". I love it- isn't that the perfect conversation stopper.
Brilliant.
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