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!

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. peace

 

 

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.

Of Mice and Men - William Rodell as 'George' & Kristian Phillips as 'Lennie' - cShaun Webb

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!

Of Mice and Men - Dudley Sutton as 'Candy'  - cShaun Webb

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.

Of Mice and Men - Saoirse-Monica Jackson as ‘Curley’s Wife’ - cShaun Webb

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 🙂

 

Rocking it back in the Cotswolds

Revisiting Cheltenham

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.  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!

imperial-cheltenham-1600x900

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…..

usa

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.

notjustjuice

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!

20160131_120051

Devil’s Chimney, Cheltenham

 

IMG_20160131_115913

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!).

There is something about being in a university town that I just adore. Plus, in Oxford, when you sit in the University chapel café it’s very much like being on the set of University Challenge. I imagine. Another bonus is that it’s half way for me to meet my London chums!

I love it when a plan comes together!

 

Britain’s Best Fish & Chips (with champers!)

So, one of the things that America loves about Britain – apart from The Queen, One Direction and the way we say ‘brilliant’ – is our good old fish and chips. I’ve seen and tried American variations of this British cuisine, but it never really had an impact on my tastebuds. Plus, fries just ain’t chips!

So, who’d have known that the home of the very best British fish and chips in the whole of the land is right here in little old Cheltenham?! See, I’ve repatriated to a town with a world-class chippy. Can’t beat that!

FishChipAwards2016-5

Simpsons – winners of the v best fish ‘n’ chips, innit!

Simpsons fish-and-chippers Bonny and James Ritchie are the delightful owners who believe that the best fish and chips should consist of good old, no nonsense natural ingredients… fish, potato and batter – that’s it! Their batter has no MSG, salt or bulking agents and absolutely no artificial colours or flavouring. That’s quality fish and chips, folks!

 

haddock-and-chips

Haddock and chips 🙂

On our first weekend back here in Cheltenham our friends had us round for supper and were very excited to share Simpsons fayre with us. And rightly so – as far as fish and chips go, it really is the dog’s bollocks, as we Brits say 🙂 If any of you lovely American peeps ever come to stay, you know you’ll be eating here!

20160129_185400

Chips and champers!

And the cheeky duo Bonny and James have appeared on the other British institution that is GMTV telling their story and sharing their success. Good for them – they’re a big name in town and last night they had a good old knees up in their very lovely chippy (wots been all done up and has a real 50s vibe) with all sorts of fish and chips to nibble on from their menu – and champagne of course, so that was a super special treat.

In fact, fish and chips and champagne needs to be a new British tradition, cos it rocks. 🙂

I declare it so!

 

 

 

You can’t get more British than….

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!

IMG_20160124_213628_resized

Tewkesbury Abbey. It’s like super old.

 

20160124_163644_resized

An ice cream van selling Mr Whippy. In January. 🙂

 

20160124_121237_resized

A ha-ha wall. Cos when you fall off it and everyone goes ‘ha-ha’ 😉

IMG_20160124_115942

An old pub. This doesn’t have TVs in the bar. Imagine that! 😉

 

IMG_20160123_213244

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!

Toodle pip!

 

 

 

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!)

dimpsey2

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…..

dimpseywin

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
louisiana
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 
louisiana12
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!

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

America

Britain

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!!

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!)

(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.

school

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.

contactless

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!

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! 😉

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!

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 is going to happen to me....

This.