British history and a Louisiana letter

Right, there’s some stuff that’s working for me back in England right now…and I feel a right lot smarter for knowing it, so I thought I’d share the knowledge and love…

Shepherds’ Huts

Look at this beauty in Somerset. It’s called the Dimpsey Hut (fyi, ‘dimpsey’ is the the time in the evening just before dusk used by folk in the West Country!)

The history lesson

In the olden days (like 150 years ago), before the advent of artificial fertilizers, distant pastures on many mixed Farms would be inaccessible the to the large farm manure wagons bringing manure from the Farm yard. These would have had a visit from the Shepherd and his flock of Sheep. The Sheep were not allowed to wander freely but were kept enclosed behind wooden hurdles.

This process was called ‘folding’. Once the forage crop had been grazed, the Sheep, Shepherd, his dog and mobile home; his Shepherds Hut, would move to pastures new. The land would then be ploughed, returning the nutrients in the droppings to the land. The Hut contained a small stove, a straw bed over a cage where lambs could be kept (known as a Lamb rack) and a simple medicine cupboard containing various potions. This regularly included a bottle of Whisky to revive a sickly lamb (or Shepherd).

British history lesson over. You can actually win a break to stay in this abode! Awesomeballs! Go here to enter…..

I’ve stayed in this Dimpsey Hut and it’s like a small piece of heaven. If you want to get all snuggly and secluded, like I do, then it is perfect. And since the balmy November week we just had has turned to a crazy cold, bitter wind, I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be. Now that’s spot on British!

Miss Gloria in Louisiana

I recently got a few emails from a lovely lady in Louisiana and it warmed me cockles, as we say here in England! This is what she wrote to me and I just had to share her words:

Thanks

Hello there Ms. Claire,

(using our southern manner of address and five months ago)

We are going to miss you when you’ve gone.  Yes we are.  We are going to miss your laughter, your joie de vivre, and your funny (meaning ‘amusing’) writing style.  We will feel a hole in our hearts when you’ve gone.

We will miss you showing us the things, we would never have thought problematic for someone until you (or another expat) pointed them out to us who grew up here. – Gloria

Hello again (Nov 20, 2015)

Have tried to following you through your repat blog.  Have felt your difficulty in adjustment. Just wanted to say how much you have been missed on Am-soil. Wanted to show my appreciation to your past writings before I forget to let you know or am no longer able to.

About me: (I am old, southern, Louisiana-bilingual-bicultural, former teacher, love to read, used to love to write, but never wrote much.  Certainly never published.  Can appreciate good writers, and thus so attached to your writing.

May never read you much again so took this opportunity to wish you luck. (Probably never got over belief in grading someone’s work and letting them know my opinion.)

Hope all your wishes for your work or/and dreams come true.  I wrote a 2nd note and will send it too.  – Gloria

Hello there Ms Claire,

Thank you very much for letting me see my country through  your eyes.  I enjoyed your presence here immensely.  I’ve never enjoyed a blog more.  I always had much to react to positively when reading you but was always too shy to attach it in responses for all the world to see.  And I had once believed I would write.!

Anyhow, just wanted to tell you of my love for what you write, how you write, and how you write it when you write.  Perhaps because there’s a sense of humor (or shall I say humour now that you’ve gone home?) reminiscent of mine.  It has always been difficult for me to enjoy the British humour in films or television but your expressions were different all together. – Gloria 

Wow! Big shout out to Miss Gloria – I love such correspondence and am waving madly and sending British hugs to her from across the pond! I hope that one day we will meet! I hope that it will be in Louisiana, one of my favourite states! And now her lovely words are immortalised in my blog. Awesomeballs.

Stay warm one and all!

 

Black Bloody Friday!

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!!

Off to get one now!

Cheers dudes!

The British countryside and the British class system…

Crickley Hill vs the Grand Canyon

So, here’s the deal…

Young Harry is totally infatuated with Britain. He think the countryside is amazing, he loves school and the education, and talking in a British accent 😉

On a recent trip to one of our old favourite walks nearby in Cheltenham he marvelled at the panorama. ‘That.’ he declared, ‘is a better view than the Grand Canyon.’ I had a sharp intake of breath. Oh my, you mean we went all that way on a frigging coach for 5 hours from Vegas and back again and all he wanted was a view of some sheep, some causal splatterings of cow poo and expansive green fields? Yes, if the truth be told.

Agreed, the view across the Cotswolds was really quite stunning that afternoon.

(Not my photo!)

When I tell people of Gloucestershire this they are delighted to hear it.

School and class

One of the very English (not British, definitely English) things that has been ringing in my ears recently is the school thing. School placement is v different to the States. Basically, you don’t automatically get the school that’s nearest you and sometimes that means you miss out on the school you really, really want for your kid (because you don’t want them to associate with kids who are from a different class, the school reputation isn’t all that or whatever). Every year parents of 4 year olds weep tears via Facebook about not getting their school of choice here in Cheltenham, and to be honest it all gets a bit bleeding heart middle class first world problemy (read as: very annoying).

Harry got placed in a cool school that is considered to be on the ‘wrong side of the tracks’. It was a school that was failing and so they got some superheads in and now it’s awesomeballs now and his teacher is rocking. We didn’t get a choice, but we were pleased he was now getting an education in a British school and we just feel lucky he’s there.

But the class system is rife in Cheltenham, as it is in many places in England. Never has England appeared more class conscious than it has when parents are considering or talking about schools. People move three or four years ahead of time across the town to get into a speficic school. It’s a Very British Problem thing that’s crudely fascinating.

Going Contactless

What is is this ‘contactless’ thing that you can do in British shops with one’s credit/debit card? And when did it happen?! You just place it on the screen? Amazing! Not got my head round it yet. Not sure what the minimum or maximum is, but I’m trying it all the time. It’s very exciting not having to put your card in and then your pin, cos I was messing that up every time I did it, since in the USA you just give them your card and they swipe it.

I’ll get the hang of it, and in time people at the checkouts won’t hear an excited squeal of ‘Oooh, you do contactless, what fun!’

😉

A Love Letter to America

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 on BBC 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! 😉

Bond, pussies and parties. You’re welcome :)

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

Read more at: http://www.gbshowplates.co.uk/battle-of-the-bonds-infographic/

The UK/USA differences become clearer…..

Differences aplently

It’s been two months now since we returned from the USA and the differences between the land I grew up in and the land that I ‘visilived’ in are becoming clearer now. (Visilived is a new verb which I made up just this very moment to describe when you do what we did for three years in another country 😉 )

Halloween

Big difference here. Practically every house in the States is adorned in Halloween garb right now I suspect, or furnished in fall magic. This one house in Ohio blew me away. They said it ‘crossed the line’. They might be right 🙂

However, here in the UK it seems it’s just Tesco that’s got the Halloween vibe.

Grumps

This is a sad difference. I’ve noted a lot of grumpy folk here in the UK recently. There are a lot of happy ones, sure, and I like them a lot, but by Gawd, it appears the colder it gets the UK the more entitled you are to be grumpy. Hang on a minute, that might be me too, cos it is getting colder and I’m not happy about it…..

UK forever?

I’m convinced the UK is not my forever home, since the opportunities to ‘visilive’ in other countries are far too appealing. (See that word does work!)

I took this quiz to find out where I should visilive next….https://www.sellmyhome.co.uk/where-are-you-destined-to-live-quiz

I got Hvar, Croatia. It says ‘As an island just 68 kilometres across, Hvar is not short of beautiful beaches and the nearby Pakleni Islands also offer a number of naturist hotpots, if that’s your thing. Hvar Town has plenty of character, with its traffic-free streets and surrounding 13th century walls, so if you’d prefer a smaller home town, next to crystal clear waters, then Hvar is for you.’ Interesting – a fine place to write my book me thinks!

Travel to open your eyes

The other thing about travelling is the opportunity to open your eyes to others’ lives. This is a curious and fascinating aspect of travelling to me. Today I read this by traveller and writer Cristina Luisa and it struck a chord with me about the way I want to travel in future and how we conduct our lives…..

‘Thinking that luxuries are necessities….When you’re wrapped up in the perspective of your own world, it’s easy to think that you “need” a better car, a new wardrobe, or a drink at the end of a hard day. After you start to travel—especially throughout developing countries—you begin to see how others live, forcing an immediate re-evaluation of what a necessity is. When you see children digging through garbage to find their next meal, families of 10 sharing a one-room shack, people without access to clean water, electricity or education, you just might feel ashamed that you once thought you needed a $350 haircut with highlights.’

True that.

Reality bites and normality bites harder

Not gonna lie, this repat thing is tough.

I’m honest when people ask me. ‘What’s it like being back then?’ they ask. ‘Normal,’ say I.

Then they ask me how my life is different and I reply thus:

‘Well before I was doing all the things I had ever dreamed of doing like travelling and meeting loads of people and hanging out at fabulous parties with fabulous people and going to events and writing and blogging and writing some more and being creative and presenting on TV and doing PR for things I love and being an extra on TV shows and modeling and doing professional theatre and teaching fitness classes and being a nutritionist and having great times with my boys.

Now I get up and go to my job and I go home again.’

All of the stuff I did in the USA was work, but for some reason it didn’t feel like work. It’s a different perspective, I guess.

And I play netball, of course, in England which is the glorious highlight of my week.

That might sound really bloody grumpy and totally negative. But this is the reality and this is normality and it kind of makes me realise that I really am not very good at normality. Sometimes the normality of it all is the hardest thing to adjust to. Back to earth with a bang. That’s reverse culture shock in full swing, I understand.

Anyhow, that thought aside, there are still good and weird and amusing things going on in the merry old land of Eng.

My dual personality Sat Nav

So, I’m currently in much confusion with my Sat Nav. British bought, this Sat Nav has a strange habit and I am sure someone has messed with it in order to mess with my head. The Sat Nav female voice, but every ruddy instruction she gives is given in firstly an American accent and then again in a British accent. It’s freaking bizarre! ‘Fess up, who made this setting on my Sat Nav?!

Festivals UK stylie

This is the truth to date. Festivals in the USA are rocking and mental. The ‘festivals’ we have been to so far in the UK are tame. I am ready to be proved wrong, Britain! I love a festival with balls! Invites accepted!

Pulled Pork

Another truth. Pulled Pork in the UK this summer, apparently, was like this trendy gastro pub gourmet thing on the British BBQ summer circuit. Everyone was raving about this new phenomenon of pulled pork in a bun like it had fallen from heaven. In the States, pulled pork is just a thing that you get wherever, whenever. Funny innit, how we view it. And. even though we all three had a fascination with pulled pork in the USA when we first arrived. it’s like beans on toast now. To be honest, I’ve had enough!

London

I love love love love love London. No denying, that city makes me feel alive. Even being squashed on the smelly old Tube made me smile. Ah, the Big Smoke, j’adore!

Repat confession of the week

Did I really use an American accent on purpose at the Tesco petrol station to hide the fact that I am a Brit who still has no idea how to use the British petrol pumps and can’t work out if you pay first or after or at the pump ….?
Yes, I jolly well did!

A Week in Britannia

Rugger innit

There is one word on everybody’s lips in the UK right now and this is RUGBY.

I’ll be supporting England, naturally, even though I have France in the sweepstakes. The thing about the UK is that there are loads of peeps from England living in Wales and vice versa and sometimes you’re not too sure who’s supporting what. And then she’s married to a South African, or his mother’s Italian. Who knows who to support?!

I might support Tonga for a bit, only because the dudes are hanging around in Cheltenham and training in the fitness arena and parking their bus up my road. They’re playing a bunch of matches in Gloucester bless them 🙂 Have a quick cider when you can. lads.

“A lot’s changed round here”

That’s what my other half said about Cheltenham town today. I think things have stayed the same more than things have changed. I was so hoping I would find the former neglected/then chain store and pound store land of the lower high street here would be some alternative, hipster, kooky place for us to hang out.

Sadly, it’s not that place, though it has potential to be. I like Cheltenham, but it is an extremely polarised place of class and wealth and culture and non culture. I’m still slightly flummoxed by it. That being said, it’s our third time back in this town, and it’s the best shape I’ve found Cheltenham in since 2000.

Driving on the left hand-side

“Gosh mummy, did you know that you’re on the wrong side of the road?” said wee Harry as as I pulled on to the outside lane of a British dual carriage way. Good for him for noticing and for one moment I had to wonder if we were in for a right motoring mess. 🙂

Magpies

I don’t think there are magpies in America. I don’t remember seeing one, ever. But apparently they exist on the West Coast.

Well, I wonder if they salute in superstition as one is inclined to do here in Britannia. I’ve been saluting non-bloody stop since I’ve got back – I’m surprised it’s not a driving offence as you have to take one hand off the wheel every bloody time 😉

Expat to Repat: Challenges and Wot Not

Four weeks in on the repatriation in the UK, folks.

How’s that working for us?

Happy Britain!

So…..in no particular order

1. I think I am addicted to Radio 2. I love it and all its British charm and eclectic music offerings. I tried listening to it in the States on odd occasions, but it just seem misplaced during my time out there. I’m back in the Radio 2 groove along with every other bugger!.
2. The 4 week bit of the repatriation curve is hard. Week 1 is like – ‘ooer, what’s going on here then?’ Week 2 is pretty much spent going ‘oh this is same but different and so much has changed but that’s still the same’; week 3 is mostly spent thinking ‘normality is setting in but I still feel like I’m a bit different and not fully settled……and what the hell is that car doing?! – Oh, Lordy, it’s me supposed to be driving on the left – yikes!’; and week 4 is like ‘oh boy, I miss stuff about Americaland a lot.’ What else is to come?
3. Harry does not know what a pantomime is, and I almost replied it was the British government, but obviously I stopped imposing my own political views on him. 😉 He now is aware of what a pantomime is, but I am sure it will be fascinating watching him watch one.
4. The drinks holders in British cars are tiny because they don’t want you to drink water or whatever in your car ever, cos it’s illegal or something. Fact: my USA water bottle does not fit in my British hole. Fancy that.
5. Car parking spaces here are flipping tiny.
6. Paying for parking everywhere is pain in the arse.
7. It is now Autumn. and it is cold.
8. Harry does not know what a Mars Bar is. British childhood confectionary treat, that’s what son!
9. Rugby is where it’s at for the kiddos here. And Harry, being the expat-repat kid, turns up wearing a Pittsburg Steelers kit, cos that’s how he rocks.
10. People in Tesco wear their pajamas on a Sunday. Much like Walmart, I gather;)

This.

It can’t get anymore British can it?!

British School

This week has been an onslaught of very British things invading my senses. My reaction is more often than not thus: oooh I know that thing, but it feels kind of weird, and yet kind of normal too.

Like school for Harry. Obviously it’s been 30-odd years since I went to primary school so it’s naturally changed oodles, but my comparison is, of course, American schooling from the past three years. Honestly, not too sad to leave that behind. Sorry America, much as I love soooo much about you,  I just couldn’t connect with the American school system.

But let’s start with the British school uniform. Cute, yes. Stripping one’s identity? Slightly, but I totally love the rationale behind school uniforms in the UK. Anyhoo, there it is in all its glory. No tie yet though, thank the Lord. There’s a 4-6 week waiting list for that piece of fun.

According to Harry the best things about British school are, in order: ‘toffee sticky pudding’; the ‘boys’ toilets that hang on the wall’; and his lovely teacher, who I am sure gets a lot of attention from the fathers on parents’ evening 😉

British cricket

I am actually typing this whilst sitting in glorious British sunshine – the warmest day that I’ve experienced since I’ve been back. Yes, I know it’s still 80 degrees and humid in Maryland, and I miss the hocohomos and the pool etc, but my word this current climate is suitably pleasant to have a cup of tea in whilst in yer t-shirt and whilst not having to worry about bikini issues, if you know what I’m saying ladies.

So, with such a fabulous day today, of course it was the coldest day so far yesterday because we spent it outside at a cricket and beer festival with scarves and jackets and thermal ruddy socks on. That is so very, very British 🙂

Still capitalizing on that expat thing….

Yep, I’m still harping on about being an expat in the USA and that will happen for a while, I suspect. I’m not done yet with cultural comparisons.

So, here is a podcast I did last weekend with my old school chum who is right knowledgeable about languages and culture and stuff. It was super fun talking to him, and I natter on for ages, just to warn you!

http://www.100percentbusinessenglish.com/american-and-british-culture-with-claire-mcgill/

I also got a chance to gas on BCC radio here in Gloucestershire last week. I promised the presenter it was only this time on the show that I would use the phrase ‘When I was in America’, cos it gets a tad annoying even to my ears!

Sad sad news

My sad new is this: my glorious American tan that I spent ages cultivating has now faded and I feel all white and puffy, since my abs have also disappeared thanks to excess UK fish and chips and cider. Thank gawd for dry September and St Tropez tanning gel!