It’s been 11 months since we returned to the UK. You can call me a math/maths genius if you like, but I figure that’s nearly a whole year. And repatriation is complete (apart from calling a ‘take-away’ a ‘take-out’ today, but these things will crop up every now and then….. 😉 ).
It’s been a while since my last post, and stuff sure has happened, like British politics went into meltdown, I went back to America-land for a week, Andy Murray won the tennis, I got annoyed about the small UK parking spaces, we encountered half term M5 traffic to Cornwall, the England football team confirmed they were shite, we watched outdoor Shakespeare covered in blankets, and it rained quite a bit.
So, yes, I took a trip back to America-land. I wanted to do it before that looney-toon Trump got his hands on it and I had to give a stool/hair/saliva sample before I entered the country to prove I was not a terrorist or related to one or about to give birth to one or whatever.
Anyway, the whole week was hot, fun and American. That’s how I’ll remember a lot of my experience in the USofA. The travel, the people, the endless cultural experiences, turning right on red, and tipping extortionately 😉 . America captured my heart and there is so much of it yet unseen; so many roadtrips and experiences for us still to have in the States – I’m not done with you get, Uncle Sam! Mark my words!
Baltimore – a city I am incredibly fond of
Back at the pool of dreams
And back in the UK, life moves on with pace and Britishness. I remember thinking when I left America I wouldn’t be able to capture the essence of all that I had done and achieved out there. But, I was wrong. America taught me many things, and one of those was to not be afraid, to chase that dream, to make it happen, to open your eyes and your heart to new experiences, and to bloody well get on with it. Nuff said.
And are there things that still baffle me about being back in England?
Of course. Things like this…..
The M5. Why does everyone go on it at the same time? Annoying.
Pasties. Cornwall or Devon?
Sunday closing for shops. 4pm. Is that still church rules?
England football team. Why?
British politics. WTF?
Trains to London from the West Country take forever. Rubbish.
And there are things I love about the UK like this…..
The NHS
British schooling
Eavesdropping in Waitrose
Wimbledon (the only reason I will ever sit inside on a sunny day)
British humour
Tea. Tea. Tea
And there are things I miss from the USA like this……
Old Bay Seasoning
Thanksgiving dinner/piss up
Eating out with your kids in the evening and not being frowned at
The pools
The big roads
Turning right on red
The heat
People commenting on how much they love my accent
My Americana buddies!
But, the repatriation is complete. When there is no more culture shock, no more truly comparing and contrasting the cultural differences, then you know you’re back in it. And really that’s all this UK Desperate Housewife from the USA to the UK has to say about that!
It’s been a joy to share my journey there and back again. Thanks for reading.
I admit, I’ve been thinking a lot about America recently. I even specifically watched a bunch of American film clips so that I could see the landscape and the cities, and all that jazz that I love, the other week.
But, no denying, there’s a touch of Spring in the English air and that means the flowers are a’blooming, and the land is looking very green and very pleasant indeed. Not being one to turn down an invitation to visit a new place, Harry and I merrily turned up at the Rococo Gardens near Painswick in Gloucestershire with a spring in our step and a wish of wonderment.
If you didn’t know (and I didn’t, really) rococo is a style of art and architecture originating in in France and Italy in the early 1700s. The Hyett family who owned the very British Painswick House and the gardens translated that into a vision in this rather amazing garden. It’s all fabulously fanciful, with breathtaking views, a kitchen garden, secret buildings, mazes and winding paths. And people flock here for the bluebells in Bluebell Walk and the snowdrops in Snowdrop Grove.
Harry declared it ‘delightful’. I thought it wonderous, captivating, enchanting.
Snowdrop Grove
The daffs are out!
Capturing the European essence
Delightful!
Tree carvings
‘I love this land’
I think I might ask to take up residence here and write my Gothic/romantic novel. It’s such a unique, extravagant, pure setting – all rolled into one experience. One moment you’re in the heart of nature looking at a sea of snowdrops, the next you’re weaving your way through a sculpted maze. It’s an eclectic mix of ostentatiousness with its frivolous buildings, alongside the wonder of nature with its careful planting bringing attention to the resident trees and flowers.
Look through the flamboyance of it all and the views are incredible. Harry muttered ‘I love this land’ as he breathed in the vista from the top of the garden.
Yes, England, you are magnificent. And it still surprises me how many people in Gloucestershire have yet to visit these things so close to home. ‘I keep meaning to go there…’. I hear that a lot. Don’t say it, don’t procrastinate peeps. Do it. And definitely go and visit Rococo Gardens, because your heart will leap with joy at this fascinating spectacle right on your doorstep.
And for those Americans, or Brits in America, who keep asking for more photos of special places such as this in the UK – it’s my pleasure 😉
This is my third installment in Cheltenham. It was the year of 2000 when we first landed in Cheltenham for my [then-boyfriend-now-husband’s] work. Â Sixteen years on, I am slowly beginning to understand this town, and, happily, to enjoy it. Woohoo!
We were young and slightly confused in 2000 – that is, confused about what we were supposed to do here, and who we were. We found ourselves at that awkward stage between being university students still and playing being grown up, and not actually knowing what ‘being grown ups’ meant. Oddly, I think we both thought it predominantly meant we should enjoy DIY. Truth is we didn’t, and we were also utterly crap at it!
Cheltenham town – it is kinda pretty ain’t it though?!
Anyway, the point is that we arrived in Cheltenham not very sure about who we were, nor what this provincial town had to offer. Coming from a diverse area of London, I was pretty blown away by the causal racism that was openly offered to me on my first night out. ‘Oh you’re from London. Lots of black people there. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not that I’m racist. It’s just we really don’t want them living here….’
This was 2000. Cheltenham was, I think, pretty pants then. I never really understood the place, and we never really connected. The town didn’t really know if it was a high street, a place to eat, a cultural venue, or a racing town. In turn, I had no idea what I was doing with my life. I immersed myself in the local theatre scene, made some friends through work, and plotted my escape. We returned to London in 2004.
In 2007 we came back to the Cotswolds, avec baby. This time around, Cheltenham offered me new things and I was more in tune with my headspace. Things were-a-changing in Cheltenham, and I was glad to be along for the ride. It was cool, we had a good time, met some great people, and I played netball. We had grown up, and so had Cheltenham.
Then, boom! Off to the USA we decided to go. I get itchy feet and I needed to walk on some different grass for a while, and so three years in the States happened, and we relished every moment. How on earth would I cope coming back to suburban England? And, more specifically, back to Cheltenham….? I felt very, very apprehensive about coming back to the same place for the third time…..
Did I mention I loved living in the USA?!! 😉
But here now, in 2016, I think Cheltenham and I are in a good place together. We’ve matured, neither particularly gracefully, but we’ve found ourselves, and this time we’re connecting. I’m lucky to have work that allows me to socialise with diverse groups of people. I’m finding things out that I never knew existed and am part of networks that are welcoming and supportive. Cheltenham has grown culturally, and is, thankfully, much more diverse in its outlook. It’s definitely more exciting, more developed, more socially aware, and more socially responsible. And I’m beginning to enjoy rocking it in Cheltenham.
Rocking it in the Cotswolds this week are…..
Juicing in Cheltenham
One of my favourite things about the States were the juice bars. Oh yes, they were a ‘thing’ and were aplenty! However, I wondered if I would find somewhere to replicate my love of juicing, which, as you might know, is ultra-trendy for detoxing purposes.
Thankfully, smashing chap Dan Fivey owns a juice bar Not Just Juice in the lower high street in Cheltenham (more on that area of town in my next installment!) where you can order 1, 2 or 3 days of juicing online. I opted for two days of juices with the intention of flushing out the new year excesses.
Dan’s juices are designed to supercharge your body. You drink four juices a day and  you can choose from, amongst others,  Chunky Monkey: peanut butter and banana; Do the Splits: banana and strawberry; and Very Berry: blueberry, raspberry, strawberry. Delicious and delightful, and very detoxifying.
Juices!
I, for one, am very glad there’s access to juicing here in Cheltenham. That’s progression, folks!
The Cotswolds Countryside
Ah, the English countryside in the Cheltenham/Cotswolds area! How do we love thee…?! Er, like loads!
These pics say it all!
Devil’s Chimney, Cheltenham
British boy in the British countryside
Closeness to Oxford
Oxford: possibly my most favourite town in the whole of the UK and only 50 mins from Cheltenham (note to hubby – yes, I’d like to live in Oxford one day!).
British things are all around me! I’m in the land of Englishness! And what kind of things have been totally British recently?
Well, loads of Americana chums have asked for pictures of old English-y stuff. You got it peeps!
Tewkesbury Abbey. It’s like super old.
An ice cream van selling Mr Whippy. In January. 🙂
A ha-ha wall. Cos when you fall off it and everyone goes ‘ha-ha’ 😉
An old pub. This doesn’t have TVs in the bar. Imagine that! 😉
Sticky toffee pudding – or stoffee ticky pudding as we call it 🙂
You are welcome, my friends!
I particularly hope this amuses my American and my British friends who are still snowed in in Maryland because of the snowstorm Jonas. Now that was a snow dump! We got the tail end of it today in the Cotswolds, apparently. But when it came to us, it was just rain. Lots of rain, naturally!
Whilst the genius that was David Bowie was referencing America in a different context in his iconic song, I can’t get this lyric out of my head. It’s a blend of his Britishness, his love of NYC, and his many references to America in his songs that have caught my imagination and perhaps inspired this essay. (You might need a cuppa for this one – it’s long, and slightly contentious!!)
Yep, this is UK that I am living in again and this is definitely not America.
And, during my time back in the UK I’ve noticed and listened to many British comments that make direct reference to the fact that they’re very happy that this country is not America. Whilst I’ve always acknowledged many of America’s failings that I experienced or was aware of, and alluded to some of its more odd, amusing or problematic characteristics through my blogDesperate English Housewife in Washingtonduring my three years there, I am still stunned when I hear Brits let rip at the USA and Americans.
Over the past five months I’ve heard many Brits comment with real negativity about the country and its people. Yes, there is a slightly racist brush which we Brits feel it’s okay to sweep across America.
Oh, I get how the brashness and the commercialism and the bright lights and the fear of those middle States taking over the politics might be a cause for concern, or how ripe certain topics are for scrutiny and that these naturally and legitimately can bear the brunt of our very British wit and sarcasm, but there is also often a real condescending, superior tone from many Brits which I’ve witnessed, especially when I say I used to live in the USA.
You know, that tone. The one that’s saved for looking down on someone who you think has got it wrong, someone who isn’t very classy, someone who doesn’t live up to your standards, someone who you think is dumb, or inferior. You know, that bullying tone.
And whilst it is very clear that, when America sticks its head above the parapet and does make great big dickhead mistakes, or is unjustly arrogant, or there are issues that we feel need to be resolved faster and with more balls – the gun issue, gay rights, race issues, or abortion (for instance) – the country does lend itself to general piss taking or mocking, or is a cause for concern in our modern society.
But, otherwise, what I hear is just bullying.
Yes, yes, I know the USA has positioned itself as a super power and is one of the wealthiest countries in the world and should take it all on the chin, but behind that facade, there are deep-rooted issues and vulnerability. But we Brits like to bring people down. It’s part of us, we say – that’s how we roll. Or is just tiresome and slightly xenophobic? Think about the most successful person on TV, or in your life, that you know – as a Brit, don’t you just love to bring them down? We don’t big them up, we don’t often say ‘you’re amazing, carry on being amazing!’. No, we don’t do that – or, at least, not enough. I bet many a Brit would be loathe to admit that they secretly don’t want that successful person to succeed. We naturally support the underdog – that’s the way we’re inclined. And America is not, nor would it want to be, the underdog.
Are we slightly jealous that once upon a time there was us, the British Empire, and then, well, there wasn’t….? Maybe that’s just history. But our relationship with America is complicated. We’re kind of cool to have you on our side and all that, but we laugh at your commercialism, and your CocaCola, and your obesity problem (Britain – we have one too, you know!), and your guns, and your ‘uneducated’ states in the middle that we don’t really know the names of but mock anyway. Yes, the sweeping stereotypes we like to place on America.
We Brits, with our heritage and culture and etiquette and constant nod to the age of ‘better days gone by’, do we see America as that ‘new money’ place? Is that how this one goes? Silly, immature America that got the money and built the big house, but which will never quite shape up to the expectation of our esteemed order, because it doesn’t ‘have history’ (I beg to differ), and it doesn’t, quite simply, have class (again, I beg to differ).
Don’t get me wrong, I love Britain and am very proud to be British. I love British culture, theatre, our sense of humour, popular music, art, London, the general cultural vibe – that’s my favourite thing about Britain. And I love America. I love its different cultures in one country, its embracing of arts, its genuine desire to better itself, its sense of politics, its new-worldness.  And I love the two countries’ differences and their similarities, and I recognise both of their flaws. What I don’t love sometimes – and it really does grate – is the attitude that some Brits have to the USA and Americans, because it does reveal an exaggerated sense of one’s own importance.
There is a perception that all Americans are ill-informed about anything outside their own country, and pretty ignorant of where other countries are, and any facts about them. Of course this is going to be true in some areas – I liked to share facts about Europe and the UK in general with these peeps who didn’t have a vast knowledge. But, in truth, my knowledge about the USA was pretty minimal when I went there. I mean, it was mostly based on West Side Story, Fame!, The Wire,Dallas and Deperate Housewives, for goodness sake.
America is a big old country, and it still makes me smile when I hear the NATIONAL travel news on Radio 2 in the morning here in the UK, whilst in the States my Baltimore radio station would only do the traffic report for a certain length of the I95 (which goes from NYC to Florida) based in their immediate area. That’s just how it works. It’s a big place!
The American people that I met and hung out with on the East Coast were warm, friendly, very very smart, progressive, classy, educated, open-minded and intuitive. They created a fantastically spiritual, welcoming, intelligent environment for me to live in and I thrived on that.
Some of the comments that I’ve heard recently left my jaw hanging slightly. Yes, the crass open-gobness of a Brit who’s obviously been injected with some American non-culture. That’s me!
Many of the comments I’ve heard have been based upon media perceptions and ignorance, and possibly a mix of fear and snobbery.
‘Oh I don’t think I could cope with living in America.’
‘Have you ever been there?’
‘No, but I wouldn’t want to.’
‘Why’s that? I had a great time.’
‘I think it would be….too “American” for me….’Â
Who said ‘people fear what they don’t understand’?
They were right.
Some Brits actually appear quite horrified that I enjoyed living in America so much. In fact, they seem slightly disappointed and mortified that a fellow Brit feels this way, and no doubt come to the conclusion that I must have been taken there without consent and consequently brainwashed by some American cult. 😉
One fundamental difference about being there in the States and being back in the UK is realising just how much Americans love us Brits. They do. They flippin’ love us (most of them, anyway!). My American friends were always wanting to know more about Britain. Americans I met found us intriguing, they were always asking questions about us and about our culture (and not just Downton Abbey and One Direction and the Royal family!). The Americans I got to know welcomed me, brought me into their community, they were warm and friendly, and they made me feel I belonged. And, honestly, they made me feel special. Do we do this to Americans, British people – do we? Do we see or hear an American in our community and make them feel special? If not, we should.
David Bowie was right: this is not America. Right on. And you also know what, America is not Britain. And that’s why I was so very glad to live in America for a while.  But now I really am glad to be back – and in part due to the fact that the positivity I enjoyed over there in the States is actually happening right here, right now, in my little bit of the world in Cheltenham, The Cotswolds. You see, much of the work ethic and philosophy that I’m experiencing in the business community in Gloucestershire, of which I am now part, is based on many very American sentiments. It’s all about making the change happen, living and fulfilling your dream, overcoming the hurdles, bigging up people and supporting their success, not drowning  yourself and others in criticism, and networking and embracing new people and new ideas.
So, I’m glad to be back in the UK at what is a very positive, driven time – and it appears there has been an injection of American culture that’s making its mark in the UK, and, whether folks like it or not, I get the impression it is here to stay for a while!
Finally – don’t we tell ourselves, like we tell our kids, to accept everyone; that one way is not right and the other way is not wrong, but that they are just different…….? I like the sentiment about taking a moment to appreciate each other and our differences. We should do it more.
Well, certainly not the grumpy bloke at Cheltenham railway station who should so not be in customer service, that’s for sure. Or the old dude who thought that it was okay to tell me that anyone young/not white/has tattoos/ etc is not fit to be part of the British community, and that all Americans are fat and stupid, whilst in the Waitrose coffee line…..argh!
But, reassuringly, this week I’ve found some of the great Great British peeps who don’t use passive aggressiveness or rudeness as a communications tool. Yes, that really is a Very British Thing. 😉
The top banana peeps
I met a taxi driver in London who was so funny and friendly, I wanted to do another 40 minute trip in rush hour London traffic. Yes, really.
I met a bunch of women who didn’t care about material things and were bored to tears by Black Friday nonsense. Hallelujah to that!
I met a gentleman who was a poet, leukemia sufferer and all-round go-getter of life. He struck up conversation with me, which, let’s face it, Brits, is v v v unusual! It rather took me pleasantly by surprise 🙂
I met working women who are strong and fierce and work hard and want to do different things with their lives. They rock.
I met people who laughed and smiled and joked in the great British way I remember. We need more of that!
And I work with truly inspiring British people who love all things British and are as supportive and innovative as it gets. That’s a huge bonus 🙂
Talking repat language
I also met a British expat who had lived in the States for 8 years and was now back in the Cotswolds and was having a hard time adjusting to the British way of life again.
She spoke a language I understood. We spoke of the ‘grieving process’ of repatriating, the difficulty with friends whose lives have just gone on, the British reserve, the way kids are NOT accepted in social situations / restaurants, and how the mindset and lifestyle is totally different when you’re living in the USA.
Sigh, I can’t waffle on about this for too much longer, but it’s true, and there it is. The repatriation is still tough to get to grips with and it’s hard to always be positive, but I refuse to miss Uncle Sam and my life there too much!
Very British Christmas
Some friends in the States have asked me to share very British Christmas things.
So, here you go……
To be clear – none of the above is happening now! It’s basically just raining now. Grey skies and all that! But, British people are looking forward to this, and yes, it does look charming and idyllic, but if you followed my Desperate English Housewife in Washington blog you’ll know that snow totally messes with my head, so I’ll stick with the incessant rain for now!
Gordon Bennett, I’ve had enough of Britain’s attempt at Black Friday nonsense already and the date isn’t even here yet.
Why have we even got Black Friday here anyway? Asda brought it to the UK a few years ago (aren’t they the UK sister of Wal-Mart in the States?) and everyone went nuts for cheap TVs and DVD players and smacked each other round the chops to get hold of stuff and caused a right old scene? I’m glad Asda’s had the sense to get rid of it this year. Good call!
Nonsense!
Black Friday comes the day after Thanksgiving in the USA. We don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving in the UK, so why the foofing heck have we got Black Friday?
“What’s this all about anyway?” asked a British friend of mine.
“Well,” replied I, avec my British tongue firmly in cheek, “Americans get together on the Thursday and say how thankful and grateful for all that they have, and then the next day they go out and buy loads of crap they don’t need.” 🙂
Halloween and Bonfire Night
I don’t care what some of my British friends say, Halloween ain’t NUFFINK like it is in the States. Not a patch on it. As Harry declared sadly, ‘It’s not like in America.’
Case in point:
America
Britain
I am sad to report that we did not do Bonfire Night/Guy Fawkes night this year, despite it being Harry’s first memorable one. I blame the rain. There was loads of it.
However, Harry’s learned all about it: ‘Guy Fawkes tried to blow up the Houses of Parly-ament and now we burn him to death every year.’
🙂
Waitrose coffee – a revelation!
Waitrose is, dear American friends, the most middle class of all our British supermarkets. When I returned to this very country I was told with much glee by my Brit chums that Waitrose give away ‘free coffee’! To needy middle class people!
Amazing.
Still, I thought it would be rude not to partake. But I did the American thing and walked around the shop with mine, to many disapproving British middle class looks. ‘You should have got a tea and sat down with it, That’s the thing to do’ said my chums. Nah. I wanted to create an interesting juxtaposition of cultural wotnot. It worked.
Walking round the store wiv me coffee. God forbid!!
Here’s a truth: my three months repatriating back in Britain-land has been tough. I’ve not really connected with my home country and I couldn’t really put my finger on why that was. And then it clicked – I hadn’t really taken my own advice as Desperate English Housewife in Washington and I hadn’t really opened my eyes and mind and appreciated it. More fool me.
For the first couple of months I felt trapped, suffocated and very out of place, like I don’t really belong and also like I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to belong. That’s the repatriation / reverse culture shock way for some, apparently. I didn’t even feel I had much to blog about, because I wasn’t doing anything special or unusual. It just felt mundane, and I couldn’t summon the energy or enthusiasm to write anything.
But that’s no way to live! So I made a conscious decision to get involved in my community in Cheltenham, The Cotswolds, England, and have gone about making some changes to ensure I can inject some life into my life!
Today I am having a Very British Day. I went for a walk in the rain (I had my umbrella in my bag, naturally, as all prepared Brits do) and had a lovely cup of tea out of a teapot whilst reading The Times. Totes British!
So British!
And later today I’m chatting onBBC Radio Gloucestershire about British things like words of the year chosen by the Oxford English Dictionary and the now annual new John Lewis advert (yes, I cried!).
So, with all this in mind, I have written this breaking up/love letter to America…
Dear, darling America-land
America, I love you very, very much. It’s a love I didn’t know was possible. But I’ve decided that, since it’s been three months that we’ve been separated, and whilst you will have a large, warm, slightly drunken place in my heart forever, and I can’t stop thinking about my amazing life and travels in Columbia, Maryland, Nashville, Memphis, California, NYC, Galtinburg, the Smokies, Savannah, Charleston and New Orleans, I have to focus on rekindling my love for your cousin over the pond, Britain.
Britain keeps trying to pull me in and whilst I have resisted thus far, I cannot get on with my life if I keep hankering back to my Americana days of fun and frivolity. I need to make things happen here and I intend to use all that I learned whilst I was with you about life, spirit and joy. You gave me that and I shall be forever grateful.
So, let’s keep in touch (like EVERY DAY!) and I will be visiting really/real soon. We can make sure that special thing we had happens again when we’re together. It’s a thing like no other. And look after everyone I love there, and make sure they still call me in an inebriated fashion at 4am my time because it does make me smile.
You captured my heart and my mind, but I have to move on.
America, it’s not you, it’s me.
Yours with love forever,
Claire
PS. Don’t even think about electing that Trump guy! Honestly, I would be very disappointed with you! 😉
So, this week it’s all about British/ American differences in eating habits and at school.
Eating etiquette
First up, the Guardian published an article about the different ways of eating in the UK and the USA. You can read it here…
It basically says ‘Lots of American customs have invaded British culture over the past few decades, but I wouldn’t have bet on this one: apparently, British people have begun to brandish their forks in the American fashion.’
I was brought up using the method of cutting with my knife and keeping the fork in the left hand (as I’m right handed). I never adopted the ‘cut and switch’ method of many Americans, but I did enjoy certain meals, like salads, where I could just eat with my fork in my right hand not have to cut at all. It’s more relaxed. Prior to my American experience I wouldn’t have dreamed of eating like that (yes, the wrath of my Very British father played heavily upon my table manners!).
In the States I became a bit fascinated by how people cut/ate their food. I would watch to see how they held their knives and forks and sometimes try it their way to see if worked for me. It didn’t. I have a dinner party tonight here in the UK and I bet everyone just eats ‘the British way’. Simples.
But let’s not get to the stage where we judge people on how they hold their cutlery, shall we? Rather, let’s enjoy their company and the conversation and the food. After all, many cultures prefer to eat with their hands. Personally, I think it’s just darn wrong to eat a pizza with a knife and fork – pick up that slice and whop the bugger in yer gob before it all flops off! That’s how to eat pizza!
School’s out
In the States we could take Harry out of school whenever we jolly well pleased for our roadtrips and wotnot. And we did. We probably did it a little too much, but when you ‘visilive’ somewhere it’s going to be that way to make the most of it.
In the UK you can get fined lots of dosh for taking your nippers out of school and have to get sign off for attendance at funerals and the like, and they restrict the number of days they can be off.  That bit annoys me. Close family member dies: have one day off to attend the funeral only, if you please. If you breach this in anyway you get fined and then the Daily Mail runs a story about you heading off to Malaga for a beach holibobs with your kids in school time (bad) or the Guardian runs a story about you taking the kids out for an educational trip to the Galapagos Islands (good).
What do I think? I think a few days out of school for kids, especially for emotional reasons, or highly educational reasons, isn’t going to damage them. To be honest, Harry learned a lot more in historic Savannah, the Cherokee reservations, and watching elephant seals in California than he would have at school for those days. Fact.
Savannah!
We are now constricted to school holidays for our vacations in the UK and that’s been a hard adjustment, but it’s the law innit, and I don’t really want to end up in the Daily Mail just yet. 😉
Happy pussies
Interestingly my cats are infinitely happier here than they were in the USA. It might be the weather was too hot or too cold there; it might be they just love being in the house they grew up in, but it’s defo true to say my cats are totes British!
She might not look happy, but she is actually v v happy!
Gawd love the interweb
When your hilarious drunk American friends phone you via interweb technology at 630am British time on a Saturday you know they’re missing you. And boy do I miss them. Like oodles. Like so much I never realised that it’s possible to miss people this much. So many memories, so many laughs, so much joy. When people ask if I miss the States, of course I do, but really I miss the people the most.
James Bond fever!
Well it’s all about James Bond here in the UK. How proud we are of him! How British we are when we talk about him! How much my dad looks like Roger Moore! How much do I think of Russ Abbot’s take on it and Miss FunnyFanny from the 1980s?!
Anyhow, here are some delightful Bond facts for you so you can be all smart and smug about Bond at your next dinner party. You’re welcome!
Battle of the Bonds: Kisses, Cocktails, Kills, Cars & Cash – An infographic by the team at GB Show Plates
When I first went into my little British house last week I was shocked by how small it was. Small and narrow. After a few days it just felt totally normal. And actually rather nice. It was the one bit of coming back to the UK that I was not really looking forward to and now it makes me smile.
But, of course, everything is pretty good in our little house. Our small loo, our small sitting room, our small bedrooms. We managed before and we’ll manage again. And it made me realise that, whilst everything is much bigger in the USA, size really isn’t everything (and many previous boyfriends had told me that in the past…).
Typical British house!
Admittedly we’re on suitcase rations at the moment, since our shipping has yet to arrive, and I’m sure when I encounter frustrating storage issues I’ll be thinking entirely differently, but right now I’m at peace with my little British house.
Our American house was almost too big. We had to yell to each other to communicate in the house, I could never close a door downstairs and have some space to myself, and it was a frigging nightmare to clean (so I basically didn’t – I know, dirty British housewife!!).
With smaller British roads, I’m re-learning driving etiquette and the courtesy of ‘giving way’. How cute –Â everyone gives that ‘thanks’ wave!
Cheering enthusiastically
That heading should read NOT cheering enthusiastically. It’s become very apparent that the wooping and cheering between Brits and Americans extends to many things. Like Americans do it for everything and Brits do it for bugger all.
Like at Zumba class: ‘How are you all?’ says the British instructor to the British Zumba class. No one replies or they stare at their feet and hands or they just mumble and hope she doesn’t ask them directly. The awkwardness of it all!
However, if this question was asked by an American instructor to an American Zumba group, it would actually be kind of shouted with an expectation of a response, like this: “Woooooooo! How y’all doing’?!? Yeah!’ And then the enthusiastic group of folks would woop and cheer back and perhaps hug or high five one another in a frenzy of anticipation.
Americans love to cheer!
I like the frenzy. I almost shouted “Good thanks, woohoo!’ at Zumba last night, but I would just have looked like a knob, and even though I really wanted to do it in order to show them it can done, I just couldn’t do it in the end. Shame on me!
Desperate Housewife: From America to England 