A Mind Like Teflon

I have been going to my Norwegian classes every day, but nothing is sticking in my head. It's like my brain is made of Teflon and every new word slides off. I learned French in high school and it was so easy for me--have I just gotten too old to learn a new language efficiently? Or is it because Norwegian is ridiculously hard? Our teacher was trying to explain the difference in pronounciation of the words "kjott" (meat) and "skjort" (skirt). She earnestly repeated the 2 words over and over, but they both sound just like "shirt" to me. How can a word which starts with a "k" sound at all like a word that starts with an "s"? But they sound exactly alike--I'm sure you can imagine the abysmal score I received on my first spelling test yesterday! And really, I was good at spelling in both French and English...what has happened to my brain?
Actually, I think I know what has happened to my brain--massive head injuries incurred daily due to falling on the ice. Seriously, everything is coated in sheer ice and no one does anything about it. I do think that Americans are a little too frivolous with law suits, but fear of being sued does encourage the average American business owner to keep their sidewalks clear of ice and snow. Occasionally, a kind person will toss a little gravel on top of the ice, but that does very little to make the ice less slippery, and it stings like crazy when you fall over and the gravel gets ground into the palms of your hands! I do remember one important phrase from Norwegian class: "Det er veldig glatt. Var forsiktig!" (It is very slippery. Be careful!)
I talked to Kevin earlier today, and he was so proud to announce that he didn't fall once on his walk to work today. Yesterday he fell once, and the day before he fell twice, so maybe he is getting the hang of skidding around on icy, rocky trails with a heavy backpack over his shoulders. So far, so good for me today too, but yesterday--oof! I was walking the beasts up an icy hill when I lost my footing. I shared some choice English curse words with everyone in the neighborhood as I slid on my stomach and chin all the way down the hill, dragging the poor dogs with me. Good thing I don't know much Norwegian, as I'm sure I'm known as the "crazy American" around town. Oh well, I guess every village needs an idiot, right?