And it’s goodbye from me…..

Watcha folks!

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.

Peace out peeps. 

 

 

The Green and Pleasant Land

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 😉

A little piece of America on the Cheltenham stage….

Of Mice and Men Review

[SLIGHT SPOILER ALERT!!]

When I first read John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men it was about 1989 and I was aware only of an America that was relentlessly feeding me the likes of Dynasty, the A Team and Baywatch. This novel was an eye- and mind-opening antidote to all that nonsensical wotnot.

This was the real America that I held in my hands, and this book, along with To Kill a Mockingbird, truly opened my eyes not only to a culture and history that fascinated me, but they both also allowed me to have an opinion about stuff. I was given free rein to discuss racism, women’s roles in society, and the nature of humankind. Wow, this was all the stuff that I wasn’t allowed to discuss at meal times at home and I flippin’ well loved it. My brain was in overdrive with this book, as I lapped up the American scenery of North California, the American colloquialisms, and the pursuit of the American dream.

So, when this show appeared at the Everyman in Cheltenham I just had to go and see it, to find out if the novel I loved could be translated into a stage play and still have the same impact on me. This adaptation of Of Mice and Men did not disappoint.

George and Lenny

Having returned from my own modern-day pursuit of the American dream, I was keen to hear American accents again, and I wanted to feel for a few hours like I was back in the USA, albeit in a 1930s California in the midst of the depression. Gosh I miss America, and to hear the opening bluegrass music elevated my soul, placing me right where I wanted to be. A simple, but evocative set, it was the backdrop for a 2 hour journey of emotions.

The moment those two guys come on stage, you’re pulled in by George and Lenny. I think we all know must have come across or known a Lenny at some point in our lives. I bet every single person in that audience was recollecting how they treated their own Lenny…

And that’s the beauty of The Touring Consortium Theatre Company and Birmingham Repertory Theatre’s stage play, directed by Roxana Silbert. It’s simple, uncomplicated acting presenting the words and narrative that John Steinbeck created, pushing you gently at first to engage and make assumptions, and then to have those assumptions pulled away from under you.  It makes you think and we all need to do that at some point.

I tried not to assess the play as a GCSE student, but since half the audience were teenage kids who were obviously all studying the book, I began to wonder how they were interpreting the themes.  I remember from those hazy GCSE days that the theme of loneliness was key, as well as vulnerability. I began to remember my thoughts from then….how does George treat Lenny, really? The commentary on these intertwined roles is complex throughout the performance, with moments of compassion and frustration, bullying and responsibility from George and such fascinating innocence from Lenny. The actors handled the relationship superbly.

I wish I had not known the ending [SPOILER ALERT]. I was more acutely aware of lines such as ‘you broke it by petting it’ and ‘I just want to feel her dress’. The foreshadowing in Steinbeck’s words were lingering in the audience by those who knew what was to occur, but we all were captivated, perhaps holding out hope that the ending had changed. FYI, it hadn’t.

I totally bought into George and Lenny’s dream. The more they said it, the more I believed it could be true. It’s like the stuff all the success coaches will tell you – if you visualise it, it will happen. Except, it also might not….

One of the lines that resonated with me was George’s ‘You feel free when you ain’t got a job and you ain’t hungry’. I thought about this for a long time after. How is that possible? It must be possible for someone. Then I realised my focus was also on how much I love an American double negative. Only cowboys and Elvis can really get away with them, and they absolutely work in this play because of the true-to-form American dialect, so don’t nobody say otherwise….. [see what I did there?!] It’s still uncomfortable to hear the N word, though. That will never sit right.

I love an orchestrated and choreographed set change by the cast to music and I nearly had to applaud how expertly this was done. It was a joy to see Dudley Sutton (yes, Tinker from Lovejoy!) cast as old Candy. He’s almost as old as his dog, wonderfully played by the grey-muzzled Bentley, a local dog who had to audition for the role. We melted as he sniffed out the snacks in the audience and cried our hearts out when he left.

Now, let’s talk American accents, and I have no legs to stand on here, because my American friends all said that my accent tended to travel from the Deep South, all the way up to Boston, and settle drunkenly in Philly. I was not consistent, unlike these cast members. Lenny’s (Kristian Phillips) was spot on and George’s (William Rodell) didn’t falter (once he’d got his tongue round those tricky vowel pronunciations), but Curly appeared to have spent some time in the Bronx. He was bringing on the gangster somewhat, but it kind of worked for the role of the absolute terror that Curly is. Candy might also have lost his accent slightly somewhere in the Atlantic, but who cares –it’s flippin’ Tinker!

Dudley Sutton as Tinker

And back for a moment to my audience. There’s nothing more amusing than seeing a bunch of British teenage boys blush and flick their hair and snigger in embarrassment at the line about Curly’s hand staying soft in his glove of Vaseline for his wife’s sake. Gotta love that line, unless you’re a 15 year old boy at the theatre with your teacher….

George and Lenny is like a bromance of sorts. God love those boys! You know it’s all going to go haywire when it is declared the ranch they get to ‘ain’t no good place’. But, selfishly hooray for me, there are cowboys! And I am a sucker for a cowboy. Slim got my vote as the hot one on the ranch – he can buck his barley in my direction anytime. 😉

But here I am using my coarse English humour to avoid the matter at hand. And that matter is those boys, and especially that big guy and ‘nice fella’ Lenny who just wants to live off the fat off the land and tend to his rabbits. Gawd, the dream speech got me with its beautiful simplicity. It’s the American optimism that I love to hear, just woefully and tragically misplaced, and sensitively performed, in this play.

The issue of women is a tough one in Of Mice and Men.  Initially, we view Curly’s wife as a bad person and a tart – in fact, we are told as much. But the truth is much deeper than that. Like Lenny, like George, like Crooks, she is lonely – in fact the loneliest of all, potentially. They are all rejects in their own way, and this is illustrated and performed in a spiritual way by each character. I struggle with the role of women in what I call the ‘olden days’. What kind of life did women have back then? It angers me, and saddens me, but Saoirse-Monica Jackson brought some much-needed depth to the unnamed character of Curly’s wife. So significant that she has no name, and yet she has such a big, American, Hollywood dream that lies unfulfilled.

Curly’s wife

And then Crooks, showcasing the racism of the time through his being ostracised from the men’s quarters. But he’s reading. Note that he’s reading – a subtle nod to how smart Crooks (Dave Fishley) is. A fella who’s pushed out of the society he lives in, but who has got his wits about him, I adored this performance, and his accent was like honey on pancakes. It’s he who is effectively at the bottom on the heap in this play, but he’s learned to manage his status. Society ranks those that it casts out – Crooks, Curly’s wife, Lenny, George are all in this jumbled pyramid of outcasts.

My view is that every child and every adult in every land should read this book and see this magnificent stage play. It should be law. Read it, see it, think about it. What would you do? How could you apply the positive leaning from it in every facet of your life and grow a better, more tolerant, appreciative, understanding society?  How and why do we judge so and from where is hatred born?

Of Mice and Men show is powerful, and tear jerking, and all credit to the cast for evoking such emotion. Those were real tears on stage and in the audience. Yes, be warned, there will not be a dry eye in the house.

The show runs in Cheltenham at the Everyman Theatre till 27 February and is then on tour across the UK. Spread the word #miceandmentour @TCTcompany @theatrecloud

Turn off the TV and go and see this show, wherever you are.

Pictures credited to Shaun Webb 🙂

 

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! 😉

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!

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.