Scenes from the U.K.

Aquasphering...coming to a hillside near you....

2010-12-13T00:40:00.000-08:00

(Apologies...the posts from her on are quite out of date and should have been posted earlier this year....reasons are beyond my desire to explain...)
I think the video can speak for itself. England never fails to have great, fun adventures to seek out. Although only lasting a few moments.....this was the most fun I ever had in such a short time. No kidding....

Up and away they say..

2009-10-24T07:55:00.000-07:00

My fantastic hubby had given me the gift of a hot air balloon ride....in May of 2008 for my birthday! After what was to be several cancellations, the event was finally to occur! It was a gorgeous day in late September. We had a long drive from home to Lincolnshire, roughly 2 hours away. Due to a freak traffic jam in the small town we were to arrive just outside of, it may have been a little beyond that! Only in England! Anyway, after a couple of phone calls and missing the balloon prep, that all involved assist with, I 'ran' to the balloon like a child approaching Disneyland. There was no time to get nervous or change my mind. They were saying....get in, this side...Now! I sat down in the huge basket...squeezed in like a sardine, grabbed the straps in front of me...looked around and said hi to my fellow flyers....in a bit of glee and anxiety.

Before I knew it we were airborne. It seemed like seconds. He told us to stand and there we were looking down at our family and a few vehicles, that were getting smaller and smaller.....Soon we were at 3,000 feet. I suddenly felt my hands begin to sweat. I was afraid to move for several minutes. My mind was working overtime. The air was cool, but warm due to the occasional rush of the flames and gas a few feet above my head. Making me jump everytime it happened....thinking that would be the flame that would make the balloon go up in flames...like a mini-Hindenburg. Funny how our minds do that. It was very hazy, making me realize just how high we were. Like being in the clouds. Freaky...yet, so quiet. Completely silent if nobody was speaking. Just the air and swoosh of the flames above us. Meditative.

Once the initial shock wore off, I just took to trying to take pictures and breathe the fresh air. Slowly, if nothing else, to compose my nerves. It worked. The land looked like a patchwork. Sheep dotting the landscape like little white flies. The big buildings. Turning in the basket, like a figurine on a display case. I was intrigued by how the pilot just used the gas and flames to do what he was doing....turning, ascending, descending...incredible. Several of the passengers, well above 50, seemed quite at home. No one seemed distressed or alarmed. At least, like me, they weren't showing it.

We stayed at a great height for what seemed like ages, just hovering, floating. Peaceful.

We made a bit of a descent and he brought down a camera that hovered before us to snap the picture of a lifetime. (Only topped by my little brother's and his fiance's skydiving shots....how'd they do that..? :) All smiling, all blissed out and exhilarated.

The best for me was to come. We traveled for several miles floating above the treetops at about 10mph. The leaves turning, dogs barking, kids calling out to us. A herd of deer raced across a near field, rabbits on the run...even a fox retreated from the sounds of the flames. Matt chased us in the car like some crazed storm chaser. Bless his heart. Capturing my exciting adventure for future reference. It was glorious! Like flying. I could have floated at that height forever and never tired of it.

But, it wasn't to last. The sun was dropping and evening was approaching. We were heading to a large reaped farm field. Apparently, the farmers don't mind as long as it is reaped. I can't help but wonder if they don't stop by the farmer's place and pop a check in the mail slot....hmm. I couldn't see that happening in the USA really. Just plopping down in some farmer's field without hell to pay or a call from some lawyer! Unfortunate. Maybe I just read the news too much....

Pilot tells us....prepare for landing. Ok, I missed that bit, but just do like my neighbors. Sit, grab the straps and look out the little open window next to me. The basket top too high to see above. I see the Earth coming up rather quickly through my little window at my side....bracing for landing. Now....being a balloon, one would expect a soft-as-a-pillow sort of landing, right? WRONG! We hit with a jarring jolt, only to be lifted momentarily to be pulled down to the ground again. We then skidded for what seemed like ages until 2 fellas were instructed to "jump out, grab those ropes and run like hell in the opposite direction.." Yikes. It worked though. We eventually stopped and flopped onto our side. Sitting on the bench, horizontal like someone kicked our chair over. The poor folks on the other side facing down towards the ground inhaling fertilizer and dried weeds. What a ride! I was ecstatic! Like a kid that had just been on the first rollercoaster ride of her life. Cool.

We piled out as instructed and stumbled onto the field. Looking at each other wild-eyed and thrilled. The sun setting, the moon hanging in the sky....it doesn't get much better.

Time to roll up the balloon. Many of us piled on and tried to force the air out....rolling like logs if needed. I put my heart into it having missed the preparation before lift off. It is a process indeed. We all lifted the balloon assembly line formation and helped to put the balloon into the large, gray, motorized cart that it was to be stored in. It wwas 'driven' into the back of the van, the basket was loaded onto the trailer. Matt even helped with the production. Few stood around, most were put to work. The crew was an obnoxious pair of brothers..a fun Cockney pair.

Work aside, we were treated to champagne...in a barren field...out in the English countryside. If someone would have told me 10 years ago that was to happen, I would have laughed heartily. Here I was, 10 years later... laughing heartily...and the champagne doesn't hurt either. As always...life is pretty damn good. *sigh*

WOMAD

2009-08-13T12:14:00.000-07:00

In my youth....I had a vision of what a 'festival' experience should be. I have experienced a few in my time....some good, some ok....some not worth time or money (which is rare). Depending on the state of mind, expectations and personality...it usually is at the very least...an 'experience'.

Recently, I had noticed on Peter Gabriel's website, an ad for WOMAD (World of Music, Art and Dance) festival. I have known about this for quite sometime, but never thought I would get to one or have the opportunity. I sent the note to Matt via email just to 'put a bug in his ear'. Due to recent expenses, an unexpected trip stateside and a planned trip to India....I never gave it much thought. I should have known better. Matt was on it. We ended up with an all day ticket on Saturday...after a bit of research on his part. There are packages to camp....a bit pricey of course, but well worth the money, I'm sure. We opted for the day out.

This all took place south of here roughly 2 hours or less away in Malmsbury, Wiltshire at Chelton Park. The festival dubbed WOMUD because of the routine occurance of rain. I'm sure we would see our share of 'wellies'. Rainboots to the knee of all colors and designs. Pink swirls, yellow stars and yes... even green clovers.

We (or Matt, I should say...)packed up our napsack with goodies and sandwiches, cameras in tow....and set out at the crack of about 10am. (Intentions good...but sleep is better...) The day started out questionably....ok, with a bit of cloud cover. A nice ride down with a stop for a bit in Cirencester http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cirencester An old Roman town lying near the Cotswold Hills. Nice, albeit a bit of a touristy market village. A pleasant stopover to rest our legs for a bit.

A bit later we are on the road to the festival....off on a country road...out in the sticks....big field....I love it already! To be expected....field after field of cars, vans, trucks. After leaving the car and tromping out towards the festivites on foot....we come into a huge field of tents, nearly resting on top of one another...(maybe we didn't want to camp next time....)After that...a huge field of large white teepees...nearly on top of one another. One thing I have discovered time and time again....there is little concept of privacy or 'personal space' over here. People just accept it...not much choice I suppose.

The music that we heard briefly from the car...was now becoming clearer each step. Reggae perhaps....African....Asian...? Hmm...not quite sure yet. The vendors are scattered through the woods. Iron sculpture, yard and patio hangings of all sorts, wooden sculpture....many wares to peddle. Art of all shapes and designs.
Then, we came across a large double-decker bus....converted to a Tea Room. Cool. Next...a small tent-like underground Japanese restaurant...(please remover your shoes at the door :)

Beyond the few vendors we came out of the clearing and into the midway. It was quite impressive. 3-4 stages on opposite ends, vendors selling everything from hats to recycled clothing to Mexican hammocks. That didn't include the hundreds of food vendors as well. Food of every culture you can imagine. Fantastic. It was a beautiful sunny day and the smells hovered in the air.Actually, one of the first things one couldn't help but notice were the MANY flags. Tall and colorful. Mostly rose and grey, all different shapes and sizes. All impressive. After that...it was the bubbles. Small, medium and huge. One small booth was selling items that created bubbles exclusively. Needless to say, that was where all the children were hanging out. Myself included. That until I was drawn to the smell of the most exquisite incense I had ever smelled. The young man with the golden-haired dreads was all too happy to help us. In my infinite wisdom, I only purchased the charcoal which burns the incense...and not the incense itself. Silly me.
Matt was drawn to a circle of men, woman and children of all ages and sizes, drumming. It was quite an attraction. There were many such circles around the entire grounds. I tried to persuade Matt to join in and get his chance, but it seemed to be quite a wait. Another time.
There was not a shortage of people either for certain. Thousands. Many waiting in line for the porta-loo. I was not impressed due to the lack of toilet paper...so I bided my time and we cam upon an 'eco loo' complete with cups for wood chips to aid covering that familiar stench. Only a pound....they had paper...worth a pound to me!

Yet, it was a calm and peaceful atmosphere. I couldn't help but think that the type of crowd there would not have tolerated any less. Nice, mellow and just there to enjoy the day. My kind of people. Enjoying music from all corners of the world....Portugal, Brazil, India, Ireland, and so many others. Regarding myself as quite a hippy by nature...I felt quite at home.

The weather turned rainy for only about an hour and cleared for the highlight of our trip. Peter Gabriel. I have been a fan since my high school days and this was a real thrill. I admired him not only for his music and art, but for his humanitarianism.

It was a gorgeous evening and the show was fantastic...even if hampered at times by the taller crowd in front of me. He played a nice variety of old and new and a nice remix "Boy in the Bubble" by Paul Simon. Ending the show with what was no surprise.... "Biko". The true reason why he created WOMAD with his small group of mates. I left that night better for a great day out and thrilled AGAIN to see another idol of mine. *sigh* It's all good.

Jon Anderson

2009-07-08T11:11:00.000-07:00

My wonderful husband feels like I do about music and especially about the band Yes. I am thankful. I have been known to listen to them exclusively on long trips, hours on end. He never complains, he welcomes it. This year, I have just recently had the tremendous pleasure of seeing Jon Anderson live solo. All true Yes fans know that he IS Yes. The voice, the lyricist...so much of the essense.
A few miles from our home, he performed at a small club we enjoy, called the Robin2. The same club Steve Howe of Yes performed at awhile back to my joy and thrill.
It was a gorgeous Friday evening, warm and lovely. We caught a quick Balti at a nearby Pakistani place that was delicious and we were set.
Jon came onstage at around 8:30. He was accompanied by his wife Jane who sat happily off to the side not so far from him. The bond is apparent. He dedicated a song or 2 to her and glanced at her, blowing a kiss nearly after each one. A bit much some might say, but considering that she cared for him in the past year with complete devotion when he was near death, not so much, I think.
The entire show was accoustic. Matt nor I realized that he played guitar so well. He did much of his own work, and of course did softer versions of some of the more popular Yes tunes, as well as, the not so popular, for us 'real' fans.
It was an intimate affair. A few hundered of us packed in to the heavily warm room. Camera phones blazing. It eventually became a sing a-long involving what seemed to be the entire place. Old songs, Jon's or Yes', no matter..most knew all of the words. He came out for 2 ancores and if we would have had our way, it would have been more.
What a wonderful way for a fan to see an idol. A close, small pub, only a few that really appreciate his art. It brought me back to childhood. The endless hours of listening to music that sounded like what would be in dreams. Peaceful escapism. He looks frail now. Tired. Age has crept up on him and his health is not so good. Sad. Yet, it is obvious that his life is and has been so rich and complete. I am grateful for the music. It has played in the background of my life for as long as I can recall and will as long as I am able to listen.

Newquay, Cornwall

2009-07-08T09:00:00.000-07:00

After returning from the USA on what was, as usual, a quick and exhausting trip, I went to North Cornwall with friends. This trip had been planned for several months and I actually was really looking forward to it.

The drive is never great: Lightening speeds on the motorway (without me driving), traffic and just general jetlag was to play a part this time. Not a bad run...some rain, some shine...a 20 minute stop at a 'rest area' inundated with people from all over the country. I had forgotten that the Glastonbury Festival was the same weekend and surely most of the youngsters were heading there. Trust me, if you ever plan a weekend outing in the U.K., pack your own provisions. Sure beats waiting in line 1/2 hour for what ends up being a $8 sandwich.
We were going to a caravan. Here, a caravan is another name for a camper basically. I never questioned someone on how to pack....summer duds, toiletries, socks. Camping stuff really. Wrong. We were in a trailer park near the sea. A trailer/mobile home for the not-so-outdoorsy types...unlike me. I must say, it was nice....even if the shower went from scalding hot to ice frigid every 10 seconds or less the entire time...(for me as little time as I could muster). Can't have it all I supppose. We otherwise could have been down the road in the "camping" section. Hundreds of tents already lined up in rows ready to roll. Looked like a boot camp to me. No thanks.I travelled and roomed with 5 other ladies that packed for a 2 week stay in the best motel in the country. Hairdryers, straightening irons, clothing iron, phone chargers...most any electrical beauty necessity needed. Thank goodness...for I packed set for the outback. All those years of tents, pop-ups and pull-alongs. No good here.

The place was a haven for children. I love kids, but do I want to spend the weekend with them in all their napless, overtired glory? Uh, NO. No mind, at least the evenings they went in to mommy and daddy leaving us with much needed silence. Even the middle of the main service area was a huge play area for children complete with closed-down water slide....(figures, I would have fought the little blessings for that...) Of course, the chippy and pub were around the corner...either for parents or childless adults, like us...so few as they were.

First night, fish and chips....no vinegar thanks. After I peel off the inch of breading..not bad. A quiet evening in...the ladies are tired. Well...who was the last one up? The one that had just spent 2 rushed weeks in the states...me. Hmmm. Once a nightowl, always a night owl...especially when I am still on midwest USA time.

Next morning the early to slumber arose with much bang at roughly 6-7am. Oh joy. I was still on holiday...so I wasn't fussed. I was the resident latte maker since I was the one who brought the coffee and espresso pot. I wouldn't have left without that! Saturday started gray and quickly became bright and WARM. The breakfast at the site's "cafe" was one of the worst yet...(the ladies would agree on this one). We hopped a bus into Newquay and suffered winding English roads for nearly 45 minutes. My seat partner and I a bit green upon arrival into town. Into the shops we go. Tourist heaven. Keychains, fudge and t-shirts of every size, shape and color. I'm not an avid shopper...but, if it's small shops on the street, I can occupy myself.

After an ice cream break, we headed to Fistral Beach...supposedly an international surfing capitol. Maybe the waves appear at some point. Not a bad beach though. The sun was out, I was pleased. People here swarm beaches in the warm sun, due to it's lack of showing. I think some hide in their homes because they are allergic to heat or sunshine. Anyway....I got a bit too much sun...most of us did. We went back so that 1/4 of us might shower and get ready (again..) for the evening. My vote was for Mexican food. Mistake it was. I keep forgetting where I am and the how bad that cuisine is here. I have tried MANY with no luck. All dressed up and poor food, tired women and me jetlagged, sure to be up to watch the sunrise. Not quite. We headed back, I sat with a magazine catching glimses of Glastonbury on television....the ladies all fast asleep. Tom Jones...hmm...haven't seen him for awhile...wait...at Glastionbury.....? Surreal...

Sunday we returned to Newquay for the day. Hazy, Rain....town clustered with people. I splurged and had a true Cornish pasty. Yummy... close to how mom used to make.

I fancied time alone and walked the town looking for tshirts for my best friend's kids....the girls leaving me behind to return to Fistral. I needed a walk anyway. I'd forgotten how much I enjoy rambling into the little novelty shops all alone. Browsing on my own time...something I used to enjoy at times over the years.

Again, back to the 'camper' for showers and beautifying. Tonight's choice was a local pub, a carvery. The girls rejoiced. I just shrugged, knowing quite well that a cavery is not my first choice. Buffet type food, usually 2 or 3 meat choices, tons of vegetables, a type of potato, perhaps a yorkshire pudding all swimming in a bath of gravy. Usually canned or fake gravy...ugh. The carvery was sold out...no more meat! The girls sighed in disappointed. I rejoiced....privately. We drove to the next pub and ventured in. They had meals, but no carvery. Hunger won and we stayed. Best choice of the weekend. We all had roasted chicken that was to die for. I would even say perhaps the best I have ever had. It WAS that good.

Another relaxing evening in our haven and we would be off to an early start in the morning. The long drive back to Birmingham in nearly 90 degree heat. Roadside cafes LOADED with Glastonbury recoverers. Good on ya kids....bet you stayed up past 11!

All-in-all, a nice trip. Good company and good times. I returned not so much rested, but happy. My bag full of magnets and Newquay rock. :)

Black Country Museum

2009-07-04T08:02:00.000-07:00

The Black Country is located in the West Midlands of England and is considered the area that birthed the industrial revolution. The name, it is said, comes from the mass amounts of coal that actually made the soil black. Others believe it arose from the industrial filth and pollution that filled the area at the Victorian period. JRR Tolkien being one of those, supposedly basing Mordor on the desecration of the area at that time. Not a great claim to fame. We owe much that we have today on this revolution, good, bad or otherwise.
One gorgeous Sunday morning we met with friends Lynda and Nigel at the museum that tells the Black Country story. Us, and about 100 boy and girl scouts aged 4-10 roughly. Plus the occasional family and elderly couple. A mixed bag, really.

We started with a cable bus ride into industrial heart of the area. Smokestacks and canals complete with canal boat remnants. Within a short time, after a morning cuppa, we watched a blacksmith make chain link, one link at a time. Ugh. I thought I had a mundane job. Everyone in the time took part, women and even children made the smalled links. Payments was by length of links or chain. Metal working I could watch for hours, but it was time to move on.

The remade classic village was coming to life and the tourists were invading. The corner hardware store, the 'supermarket' (a shop the size of your kitchen that sells everything from groceries to hats), bakery, and candy store. Musn't forget the pub and cinema. The cast of characters are volunteers from the older population. I was chastized by the woman in the general store for not wearing my bonnet, and amused by the jovial policeman walking the beat. I could have watched him for hours. This area has a destinct accent like all of England. It never ceases to amaze me how such small areas can have so many different dialects and accents. I have gotten much better now decifering what is being said...although still a challenge, especially with some of the older folks. Babby is Baby, bostin is good, gob is mouth...more of this fun can be found on the site I have listed at the end or countless other online sites.

Nigel talked us into a canal boat tour (I am not a fan of damp, dark old places...especially those dripping with age old limestone) and a walk in the mines. I quibble at the darkness, lack of light and air. Imagine those of years ago, working in these places for hours on end. Many of them children. Small crawlspaces by candlelight, if lucky. Minimal air circulation, dangerous conditions, the stuff nightmares are made of... in my book.
The canals all man-made....propelled in tunnels by children or men lying on thier backs 'walking' the wall or ceiling. Creepy. All in the name of progress. Interesting to most...disturbing to myself. Looking around the place, thankful for the time and age that I live in. What we take for granted.

Considering the size of this country, the events and inventions that have occured here are quite staggering really. The creation of the steam engine included. Ingenious lot these Brits.
After stopping at the pub for a pint of ale and chippy for a bit of chips (no vinegar or crackling for me thanks...crackling being deep fried pork fat or breading bits....cholesterol be damned....) we venture to the garage to see the vehicles of an earlier time. Firetrucks, motorcycles, cars. I like that bit best I think. Being a bit of a motormonger as I am.
We end the day ambling through the museum. All of the Black Country history on walls and behind glass cases. The who's who and where's where. I fancied the blurb about Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin and Judas Priest....no surprise there.

The day and the company was very enjoyable and fascinating. Good weather, good company and good history can only make for a perfect day.

http://www.sedgleymanor.com/dictionaries/dialect.html

Stokeday Castle/Manor House and Long Mynd

2009-06-06T08:24:00.000-07:00

Another balloon trip cancelled....windy. Doesn't seem windy to me....sunny day, gorgeous. Drat! We are now in Shropshire county near Ludlow....about 1 1/2 to 2 hours from where we live. Mind you..this might annoy some people...but I LOVE Shropshire county. I feel it is the most stunning county in all of England. Rolling hills...lovely little villages....peaceful. My husband is a clever man...he always finds a little quiet area where we can enjoy the English countryside without the MASS amounts of people. I love him for that.

We stopped in the sleepy little village of Cleobury Mortimer for sandwiches and killer bakery. Down to the pub for a pint in the sunny beer garden. Clean, peaceful, quaint shops...I could live there. Yet, I say that about most villages that are not Birmingham.

This day it would be a drive to Stokesay Castle and Manor House. By the time we arrived, the castle (tourist trap) was closing. No bother to us....the grounds were fun and interesting. Church and cemetary nearby...what more would I want? How about a flowery country road with a pond full of swans and a cat to accompany us that just wandered by....perfect. Plus, anywhere that's located in a place called Craven Arms has to be impressive...at least I think so.Stokesay Castle dates back to the 13th century....full history and some great shots can be found here: http://www.castlewales.com/stokesay.html Near the site is a nice little country road complete with ponds, flowers and livestock. Difficult to go to the countryside and not encounter sheep. We even had the pleasure of seeing a small kid (goat)frolicking in the field...too cute. The road led to a nice trial uphill overlooking the area. We even spied several small bunnies crossing the trail to avoid us. I had more than a healthy dose of small cute fuzzies that day...I couldn't complain.
The day didn't end there. We drove over near Shrewsbury to Long Mynd. More than I could detail is elaborated upon on WIKI: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Long_Mynd It was nearing sunset as we arrived and it was gorgeous! Matt is not one who favors heights in any fashion. I, am not troubled by them, and felt at ease and relaxed. He relaxed after a bit. It is almost an alien landscape compared to most of England that I have seen. It could resemble areas of eastern Montana...desolate and open. Impressive indeed.

On the way home, in the village of Rushbury were the largest display of scarecrows I have ever seen. In front of every home, on every street corner. Apparently a Flower Festival that weekend. A bit surreal...like going from Montana to the cornfields of Iowa. Never a dull moment.

Happiness is a warm gun...

2009-06-06T06:57:00.000-07:00

Last year for a birthday gift, I decided to give Matt a Clay Pigeon shoot outing for his birthday. Matt had never shot a gun before that time. Now remember, this IS England. Guns are quite a rare site. This has it's benefits. Although the police force may beg to differ.
The day, after all this time, was finally a do. (Not like the balloon ride that I have had cancelled 5 times in the last year....oh well....) This was to take place near Essex, a bit East of London. Hours of driving and trying to find it's whereabouts...(only 15 minutes late....not bad for us...) We arrived. A small wooded area that appeared to be out in the back 40. A bit of a clearing in the woods.

No time for the instruction, briefing or any details. Get your bullets, wait your turn. I guess for me, it worked out to my advantage.....sick puppy that I am. No warning of the 'nice' little kick that a shotgun can provide. I'm sure the wide-eyed look I couldn't see was well worth it. *snicker* (I know....) Been there...

There were 2 instructors, one middle aged man and an older chap. Both excellent cheerleader in their own right. "Well done!" "Cracking shot!" "Brilliant!" Each shooter gets one or two boxes of bullets and a turn when someone else has had theirs. Roughly about 6 people in all waiting. Bright red-orange earphones all around. I forget how loud those things are. Maybe I'm just getting old...

I wondered about the set up....in between the trees...like being in a tree tunnel. Perhaps it was more intentional....shoot before it falls beneath the treetops, avoid the little creature or passerbys out for the daily stroll.

Matt really seemed to enjoy himself. The initial apprehension surpassed by that lovely adrenelin rush. Great stuff. He reported how it almost seems automatic after time. Just point up that way and when the object flies into view, just shoot it into clay crumbs. I noticed the instructors occasionally just give the shooter's gun just a little nudge and a perfect shot every time. Any of you that are avid shootists may know the secret of this. I know I would likely not be too thrilled that someone was interfering with my shots...but I'm stubborn that way.

As most good things, time went by far too quickly, and soon all 60 shots had been taken. At least Matt enjoyed himself...not the bruising that was to follow in the days to come...but sometimes the adventuresome must pay a little....

Sorry honey....I shouldn't have snickered....

St. Kenelm

2009-04-25T15:22:00.001-07:00

As many of you know, I am not a city girl. I need a place to go that is close to home and a source of comfort and peace. That place has become St. Kenelm church. The church is in a minimally populated area called Romsley. I love all of it. The small paved entryway off of the road,the arch and wooden carving on it as you enter the grounds are just the beginning. The small church is in a sideways view from the entryway. The grass high above the cement on both sides as you enter.

St. Kenelm is a saint by legend, murdered at the site of this church by a jealous sister that wanted to succeed him as as monarch... legend states that he was only a boy of 7 or 8. Pilgrims used to visit the site when it was a spring only in the hopes of miracles and cures for all sorts of ills. The church was financed by one of the pilgrims of higher standard that claimed was cured of illness. St Kenelm is mentioned in the Canterbury Tales....we've all read that haven't we? I did...so many years ago.

The grounds are medeival and evocative. Behind the church are trails that have been managed and renovated, but still hold a kind of magic that I can't explain. Alongside the trail near the church are wooden carved plaques of sorts with the names of Kenelm and his father KIng Kenulph carved in them. They are rather haunting, as are the swashes of clothing tied to a small area of trees nearby. Matt finds them troubling, I find them fascinating and somehow comforting. Apparently, JRR Tolkien found it comforting here as well as he recovered from a war injury in the Black Country. I only discovered that today...I'm not surprised.
The St. Kenelm trail is some 60 to 80 odd miles in total starting from this church and including the Clent Hills...another stunning place...also medieval and magical. We have yet to do even a good portion of the trial...but I hope to soon. The area is peaceful and solitary....that which is a pleasure to come by here. I feel overwhelmed by the noise and amounts of people here and find it unsettling. Perhaps that has brought into light my being drawn to church and of all things, graveyards. Peace, silence. That which I am used to. That which I miss. Inside of the church is an Anglo carving above the doorway. It is over 800 years old.

The interior simple, understated, calming. We had the pleasure of getting the grand tour by 2 elderly gents that knew all there was to know about the church. Whether we wanted to know or not....bless them. We were all too happy to listen and learn.

Some of the greatest escapes are so close to home. Perhaps a home so close to home. At least, where i feel at home.

London. 3rd time's the charm.

2009-04-25T13:34:00.000-07:00

Recently had my third trip to London. My trips there never last long and this time was no exception. We went for the day. Intentions of getting up and driving there at 5am and arriving at 7am fell by the wayside as expected. It was a good decision. By the time we got there, the fog was lifting and rain clearing. We arrived around 10am...by noon, it was a sunny nearly 70 degrees. A gorgeous day. Backpack packed with snacks, we parked the car and decided to walk the city. Our adventure started near Hyde Park..(lovely with all the trees and flowers in bloom) and brought us to the trendy Hard Rock Cafe...(complete with Japanese tourists...hard to see a historical or popular area without one...(no offense to anyone!) Matt had his coffee...he was happy.

Moving along...we went through yet another park...(the name escapes me..) complete with men in suits, ladies in skirts and striped lounge chairs standing alone in the wide open..curious. A faint haze above all. Big Ben off in the distance...as it will stay...been there..no time for him today. Off to other spots.

First stop, Buckingham Palace. My first thought....."Is that it?" The 'palace' itself stands alone, rather lonely surrounded by what has to be one of the tackiest gates I've ever seen. (Sorry Mum...) Although, I did see a police officer with a gun...now THAT is a rare sight here. Whether that is good or bad is up for debate...I will reserve my opinion and spare everyone!
After looking around the place a bit and meshing with the tourists from near and far, we moved on to where the Queen's guards stand. They are as stoic as many have seen on the telly. I was thankful they were not wearing the bear fur hats...i'm rather funny that way. Their horses were gorgeous creatures. Many little children felt the need to attempt to pet them, to what appeared to be dismay of the the guards on them. Or maybe it was just the heat....and the crowd.

Next in toward the heart of London and Trafalgar Square...Where the big lions lay. Huge lions with children and adults slopping themselves all over them. I do like Trafalgar, it's a bit like Europe....no...Brits, don't consider themselves part of Europe from my understanding. Dunno...they even maintained their monetary system for the moment. Good for them! ANYWAY.....I'll get by that....

London really is a gorgeous city. Clean (I REALLY appreciate clean), interesting and architecturally significant.

We continue to wander after stopping to feed my now trembling-with-hunger husband. Sandwiches in the pack save us a hefty bill in a cafe....it is London, after all. Matt makes a better sandwich anyway...

Continuing on, we make our way across the Thames working towards our favorite market near London Bridge. Passing Shakespeare's Round theatre...(quaint..) we finally, after what seems like ages get to the market and wouldn't you know it....they are closed or closing for the day....DRAT! No olives, bread or cheeses to bring home. We move on hanging our heads only momentarily. Time to reach and cross Tower Bridge. A huge tourist draw. Not too bad today....not quiet enough to interest me in paying a fee to go up and get a better view of the harbour..not today. Walking across is rather fun in itself...it IS a handsome bridge.

Not far from it is a foot bridge that crosses the Thames towards St. Paul's Cathdral...looked new and interesting. I couldn't have dragged my partner across with a gun or sedative. Foiled again. Oh well....keep walking we do towards The Tower of London. A place with significant and notorious history.....and TOURISTS! There will be no tour for us today...no pictures with a Beefeater, no Crown Jewels, or Dungeon tour. We both have a near meltdown in the gift shop due to the lack of ability to navigate or breath adequately due to the masses of people...the tower will not happen today....we haven't the time anyway. Whew. Shame...will have to see it one day from the inside...

Time to catch the Underground (tube) and head back to the car. Matt, nor I, are big fans of the 'tube', but it sure beats sitting on a bus for an hour during rush hour...I'll take my chances. Not even time for a quick pub stop...this one looked like a winner...next time.

Matt has an evening planned for us at the Royal Albert Hall. Another new landmark to see. Gotta love that. After a quick coffee and lovely French pastry, at a nice little cafe...it's to the car and a freshen up. Change of clothes, wash up, we feel like new!

Off to the Royal Albert Hall! This hall was developed by Prince Albert as a dedication to his beloved Queen Victoria...sadly, he passed before it's completion in 1871. I love this building!

The outside is striking and prominant. the inside comfortable and not too elaborate. The acoustics are amazing. We saw The Fellowship of the Ring film with the actual symphony playing the soundtrack. Fantastic. The choir was especially notable in this building. The place definitely made for the human voice. I imagine operas there are amazing. Howard Shore, the trilogy's composer spoke before the event. *COOL* I have the best husband EVER!

Thanks honey. :) xx

Ironbridge

2009-04-25T12:20:00.000-07:00

Having lived in England for nearly 2 years now, I have not seen even a morsel of what is in this country....small as it is. I must admit though, I have come to love certain areas more than others...even if I haven't seen very many. I have come to adore another small village in our travels.
Probably because it is in my favorite area...Shropshire. There is something so familiar and comfortable about it there. Perhaps because it was one of the first areas I experienced, perhaps because my in-laws are there...who knows?

Recently, Matt took me to the village of Ironbridge. This is the birthplace of the Industrial Revolution. In my mind, not an outstanding claim to fame, but it is not at all what that name states. THE Ironbridge was the first arch bridge made of cast iron in the world. any interest can be found here or elsewhere: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Iron_Bridge

It is a lovely, sleepy little town Such a pristine area, the River Severn, trees, parks....and 4 huge, ominous cooling towers. Matt thought they were 'cool'..(no pun intended)...I felt them to be 'eerie'. In the nuclear meltdown at Chernobyl sense. My mind works a bit heavily at times. Coal processing for electricity makes it the second biggest polluter in Great Britain...though walking through this beautiful area, you would never know it. Even the park near the towers is glorious and clean...complete with flowered arch as you enter. How quaint....and surreal....

Nevermind...the shops are cute, the streets and walkways pleasant. Well...any town with a big bear dressed as a Beef Eater has to be good right?

On yer bike....

2009-03-14T07:46:00.000-07:00

I like that. Quick and gets the point across. At least here, it is a way to tell someone to take a hike, go away, take a long walk off a....you get it. Just a little quip to introduce my new hobby. Cycling. Well...I hope to develop it into a serious way to stay fit anyway. Now....I have not really even owned a bicycle since childhood...that I can recall anyway. So...after much coersion from my husband, I decided now was the time. Why not? Aside from fear of broken limbs and a serious lack of coordination...I fancied the idea.

I even now have the bike lock, waterproof gear, lights and gel "saddle" as they are called here. If they are an improvement, how did I ever tolerate the other types?? Ah yes...youth and a much smaller rear section would probably be the reason most obvious.

Matt has cycled for a few years off and on and has recently taking to using it as a mode of transpo to work daily to save money on "petrol". He's far more dedicated than I. Needless to say on our first trial run, he is in much better shape as well. Plus, he's a smoker....grrr. I have really let myself go. Near our home there are canals that can take you to most parts of town. Some areas are paved, some grass, some just plain muck. Remember the bikes of yesteryear? I do! I wouldn't have dreamed of attempting an extremely muddy trail...faceplant would be inevitable. Not the bikes of today...at least not mine! I can blaze through damn near anything....I may live to regret just saying that.... anywho....the canals are the way. A small slice of peace in an overpopulated city....birds, trees, railroad tressels, litter infested canal water (can't have it all...)

Our first day was entirely trail riding and me realizing that I: 1) Still can keep a bike standing while I peddle it...hey, I did wonder.. and 2) MAN, I am really out of shape. I saw my youth and days of effortless workouts flash before my eyes as I whined and cussed the entire ride back home. Matt will attest to that....that is when he was close enough to earshot and not meters ahead of me.....grrr.

That evening, thought maybe I had fallen off of the bike and hit pavement or turf several times without recollection for the pain I was feeling. Or perhaps I actually thought I was still 16 while leaving the bikeshop in my giddy glory with my new found toy. Sure Jule....

What was a pleasant surprise is that the following morning the feeling had passed, I no longer felt that I had been mercilessly beaten. That was encouraging. Albeit, not enough so to make me hop on the bike at 6am Monday morning to pedal to work. haha PLEASE! *sigh* I'll get there.

I found myself making excuses daily....."it's far too windy or rainy", "my trick knee is playing up", " i think I have to vomit"....well...maybe not that desperate. I figured I would just walk home to make up for my sins. Drat....that takes me an hour on a good day...1 & 1/2 on a bad one. I surely can't keep that up for lack of patience, especially in the rain. As my friend Tracy says: "If you wait for the wind or rain to stop, or otherwise have decent weather to bike....haha...you won't use it much..." haha....hush up Tracy....even if you are right!

So...I got my duds on today, being a Saturday and relatively nice day (for England) and did a canal pedal. It was only a couple of miles....but I did it and conquered the somewhat meager hills without quitting, without whining. I even had to tell Matt when I got home. "Ah..oh..that's nice love.." Back to his puttering.... Yet, I felt good and positive, thinking about future trips to the countryside the two of us cycling for miles, battling the elements in our spandex and raingear. Yes....the thought passed. Oh well...it's a start. Plus, I wouldn't subject the masses to me in spandex....I'll just leave it at that...

Stonehenge

2009-01-31T09:19:00.000-08:00

Finally got to Stonehenge last month. Even though quite a mecca for tourists, I found it an amazing piece of history.

We started our day out by visiting the small community of Avebury. A lovely village in the countryside. We took a stroll down the only street admiring a small local church and the thatched roof homes. I, of course, had to stop in the small eclectic New Age gift shop. The stones are the longest stone circle in the world....over 1400 ft in diameter and covers roughly 28 acres. Some of the stones have their own names...Barber Stone (a skeleton with small belongings was found beneath it dated 14th century), Swindon Stone (the largest, about 60 tons) and Devil's Chair (a popular with those wanting to dabble in the black arts, legends say)...among others. These are not stacked or "dressed". They stand alone, those that are left, after flooding and other natural occurances. It is rather an amazing circle and sometimes not seen for those that only find interest in Stonehenge. Shame. I found it more powerful and magical. Perhaps due to the lower amount of tourists and lack of admission fee. These stones have been cleaned at occasions due to the appearance of graffiti. Kids. Go figure.

Then we were off to Stonehenge. I have longed most of my life to see these stones and they are quite a sight I will agree. They can be seen somewhat from the road...if you can see beyond the fence and clusters of amateur and semi-pro photographers. The fee, a measley 7 pounds (about $11.50) to see something that is admired and a vision of awe around the world. The area is fenced and roped. By my ears, the majority of the tourists Eastern European or North American (Canadian or American...never assume...the Canadians hate that)....a few Asians thrown in for good measure with the even more occasional Brit. One can never get close to the stones, and must be content with getting "close enough" and "enjoying" the audible tour guide you wear strapped around your neck. The stones are not as massive as I had envisioned, but incredible in any case. We were lucky enough to be there as the sun was lowering in the sky. It is quite a site indeed. I was impressed and glad to have made the trip.

The drive away and into Salisbury was through winding countryside with the sun setting. Glorious. Matt knows that I have an overwhelming urge to visit cathedrals all over the country. The night was unreasonably cold...even for a Yooper such as myself. The cathedral (although one side almost entirely covered with scaffolding) was a sight to behold. Lit up and brilliant in the night sky. The inside was peaceful and uncrowded (hallelujah). We were just in time for Evensong and politely directed to sit for the service and not be wandering about. We chose to sit under the unreachable ceiling and not with the choir as we could have (the inner chapel's seating area has one on each side of the wall facing each other...not the standard all-facing- front style...reminds me of Parliament actually). The choir and ministers walked in procession style and stood around a very large, realistic display of Christ's manger. I don't know if any of you have been fortunate enough to visit a cathedral during mass or Evensong...it is worth even staying for a moment or two. The environment, accoustics and singing can move one to tears. Even one of no religious affiliation or belief such as myself. It is an amazing experience.

I am thankful for days like these...they make me realize where I am and what is really important in life. Moments.

Time to rest...

2009-01-31T06:14:00.000-08:00

I recently had the honor of attending the funeral of our dear old neighbor Jess. Jess was in his late 70s, a right ornery old cuss with family, loved by most others in the community. A true "Black Country chap". It was not my first funeral in England, but was the most traditional in most respects. Not as traditional as some have been, and still are...no horse drawn hearse...but more traditional than I know. Yet, I was not family. Nonetheless, I felt it was a calming experience for all in attendance. Many of you may have attended such occasions, but for all of my years, I had not.

A large hearse arrived on our street, full of windows and the casket in full view. All the attendees stood along the street to watch it pull up in front of the family home. A young woman emerged in a smart black suitdress complete with cane, hair pulled into a ponytail with a top hat on. She approached the door, removing her hat, knocked on the door and escorted Jess' wife June to a limosine behind the hearse.The male staff then removed what seemed like 20 or better bunches of flowers that were placed on the casket or tied down to the top of the car upon a rack. A few were the letters...Dad...Uncle and others. The immediate family rides in the limo and others follow in cars. The procession went a mile or two down a busy street midweek.
The graveyard had a small hall that seated very few...many of us stood...not a problem. Cat Stevens "Father and Son" piped in outside and in as we entered. Who knew he was a fan? The minister was a young man (40 tops) with spiked hair and piercings. He oversees the "church" near our home. He and his wife have a youth group for teens several nights a week...this country needs more like him. He stated a few words, those from family and his own, then a prayer. Short and appropriate. "How Can I Tell You", another Cat Stevens song playing as we exited the building.

We went to the grave and he was laid to rest. A very lovely tribute to a life. Even the gathering after was very understated and pleasant. Rest easy Jess.

Lately, I have noticed that motorcycle funerals are quite popular here. The English love their motorcycles as much, if not more than Americans. I am sure that they have been done many times over in the states, but I had never seen a bike procession or least of all a bike hearse before. Fitting for those who spend most or all of their time on 2 wheels rather than 4.

Friends Make the Stay

2009-01-14T16:37:00.000-08:00

There have been many months of darkness and cold. The trips and weekends away have been few. This has not been easy for me...since this house is small and the neighbors cannot breathe without my knowing of it. Winter is never a great time for me.

One aspect of the time here in the last year gone that has kept my sanity in place many times over, is the friendships that I have made along my way. There are some that know exactly what I am going through, for they experience it themselves everyday. That would be my 3 dear friends, Maria, Tracy and Julie....( all of whom I feel I've known for years and have only known about a year and 1/2). I am blessed to have the support and encouragement of these ladies that are American Expats as I am. Our get-togethers can be a bit infrequent at times, but when we do meet up (which was twice this month...I am happy to say!), we just pick up where we left off...(yet, we do keep in touch by email normally..modern technology!) Plus, they like the coffee places as much as I do...:))! Starbucks is usually our place of choice...the familarity and all...(yes...they are taking over England too....) I don't care what anyone says...Starbucks is like a slice of home...(even if they won't take our group picture for us...right ladies..? Well...whatever! We make do....:) These girls have helped me through many a rough time....and I am grateful

I also have friends that I work with that are from many places.... Nigeria, India, Jamaica, Pakistan, Malaysia, Phillipines, China, and here in the Black country. Some here to stay...some passing through as I am and also trying to find their place far from home. I have been so fortunate to find such kind people that offer support and understanding daily.

My first job in England (thanks to my brother-in-law Nick :), also was marked by working with kind and special people that I still remain in contact with. We recently had a bowling day out on a Sunday that we hope to repeat again very soon. Along with the occasional night out for dancing and a few pints, they are the sort that are thought of with good memories and the hope to catch up with them soon...good Black Country folks. Down-to-Earth, caring and sincere. The English yooper, if you will. :)

Matt also has some really great friends that we spend time with as well...although not as often as we would like to. One couple in particular, we frequent what is now our favorite Balti house near home with them. They are fun and caring people, dedicated to their children and each other. The sort of people you feel better just being in their company. That means a lot. When one is far from what they know, they come to realize that it isn't where you are, but who your surround yourself with. Even though I am far from home, because of the friendships I have made, I feel closer to home in a way. As I always say....I really am blessed.

Give me water

2008-09-24T20:07:00.000-07:00

One profound notion I have come to realize being here, is that I miss water. That may sound quite laughable...especially to those of you that live here. It rains here pretty much most of the time or at least once a day it seems. We are here are on a large island , meaning it is quite moist most of the time. Not nice, tropical moist like Hawaii or New Zealand....no....wet, gray and most days.....damn cold. The funny thing is that a lot of the British films I have seen usually show the bright sunny days....but rarely are the characters without jackets of some sort. Reality in being here I have seen that on some of the coldest days....many remain scantily clad. Not always only teenage girls...although that is a good majority.

Anyway...off track once again.....i do miss water. My husband was ever-so-sweet once again to bring me to the Southwest coast last weekend. Battling many hours of traffic (another usual) just to get there. I find difficulty in being in some coastal cities/towns. Weston-Super-Mare was pretty much one of them. That odd sense of inbreeding afoot. Every other person walking near the beach...although few actually on sand...carrying a bag/box of chips or eating ice cream. Many around the lower part of the Pier...(the "true" end of the pier having burned up) wandering the tacky souvenir shops and arcades. The rest of the population across the road from the beach at one of the many pubs or cafes lining the roadway. We, fortunetly, not those people. We had a nice motel room with a view of the water...a large busload of Welsh elderly singing in the pub in the late hours. This after going further into town and having a nice Greek meal. Cool. I miss the home feeling of walking the beach. The smell of salt water and seaweed. The rocks and sand. The sunsets on the beach are like no others. The colors and the peacefulness of it all. One has to experience it to really know it. It's beyond description. Magical.

The particular beach we visited the Sunday before returning to the nauseum of the city, was scattered with what was mostly couples. I think we were the only people who did not have a dog with us. There were so many different types of dogs...it was fun to watch. I have discovered in England that the primary dogs of choice are West Highland and Jack Russell. No offense to those of you who have them...but PASS on both. That day...we saw all sorts from Labradors to Goldens.
I fancy myself as a definite cat person...but dogs have a certain way about them that is fascinating and enviable..to be in the moment...and to be in joy while in it. How we all need to do the same.

Every dog had to chase their object of choice...preferably into the water...after being thrown by the "owner". Stick or ball...no matter.....as long as it was being done...over and over and over......I even had the pleasure of having a little fella come over and drop his tennis ball at my feet. He wasn't partial....me or mom...no matter...."just throw it...pullleeaasseee!!!" I was all too happy to oblige. Made me feel a part of the beach group. It was as though he knew that and came over. "This lady really wants to throw a ball for one of us....I can't pass her by...I have to help." What a thoughtful little hound.

Growing up in the U.P., I always dreamed of getting away from there and seeing all the world...especially the cities. Now that I live in the city, my one BIG goal is to get away from it. Return to the water...the country....the woods. Thank goodness I have a wonderful husband who appreciates that as much as I do.

I haven't discussed food??

2008-07-25T13:45:00.000-07:00

I was amazed by reading back on my entries and noted not one dedicated exclusively to my favorite subject.....FOOD. England has been heckled for years...(primarily by the French...la-dee-da) for their "poor" or inadequate-to-satisfy-the-palate food. I must say...it is what you make of it. Although some items I will never attempt or adjust to.....(LAMB....ugh..never had it, never will...or Faggots....organ meats ground up into a meatball with gravy...just say LIVER....again....UGH) Chips here are "crisps" and the flavors are not of the familiar variety for an American girl raised on plain, BBQ and Sour cream and onion. No...here you will find: Prawn Cocktail, Turkey with stuffing, Baked Chicken, Indian Chilli and yes the favorite...Salt and VINEGAR. I'm sure I am only listing a few.

They have the usual fare....Yorkshire Pudding..(which is to be honest, is hard for me to describe...it's not bad...just hard to describe), bubble and squeak, toad-in-the-hole and of course, fish and chips (I'll pass....will take the chips...with curry sauce on the side...pure evil....) Years ago, Brits must have had little time to eat...because most of the meals favored can fill you up for days. Try not filling up on Bangers and Mash....sure....

What I can't understand is what is with the beans on toast?? Everyone here...damn near...raves and practically lives on them..it. I tried it twice and loathed it both....(with and without cheese...even all the Worchestershire Sauce (just say Wooster...) in the world can't help. Beyond me. Also...gravy. Few Brits I've met can have a meal without slathering nasty out-of-a-jar made gravy on everything. Even their vegetables!! In a country of butter, cheese and dairy devotion...I rarely see anyone slather butter on anything...even toast. That calls for Marmite or it's beef cousin Bovrille. I swore I would never take a fancy to Marmite....now i confess to the late night toast with a smear. Picture a spreadable boullion...that's what it is...at least I think so. Lightly with the smear or you will be drinking water to wash the sodium out of your mouth for the next decade. I'm sure many a Brit has allowed the silly American to do just that if only to see the look of horror desend upon his/her face. Cheeky buggers.Think Americans love breakfast(?).....a full English breakfast will put all that to rest. Eggs, bacon, blood sausage (yes...I agree...yikes...), potatoes, baked beans, tomatoes, mushrooms and god only knows what else. Tried one once....one of the bigger mistakes of my life.
The sandwich (or "Sarnie") of British choice would likely be: Tuna and sweetcorn, Ploughmans (thick cheese and lettuce with a nasty chutney on it....or type of pickle some say...don't taste like any pickle I have ever had!), Cheese and onion...(yes..I am serious..) Prawn and mayo...(holy gross) or another bizarre assortment of meats with cucumbers and onions on them. I make mine at home thanks.

I am being sarcastic...(albeit honest really). It isn't all that bad. I do enjoy certain things:

Jacket Potatoes....ok, these are just baked potatoes. Sadly, many put beans on them with cheese AND mayo....(ok..that's just wrong...beans....i don't get it..never thought anyone could desecrate a baked spud..I was wrong) I have become quite in love with the tuna and sweetcorn myself...never imagined...but it is SCRUMMY (borrowing this one...)

Cornish pasty....the REAL ones...like mom and granny used to make. No carrots thank you!!! Great to be somewhere that truly loves and appreciates pasty. Created here and treasured here.

Chips!! (fries...the big dinner ones mom gave as a treat when I was a kid) As I stated...curry sauce can be quite good...but just a bit of ketchup works....keep the vinegar. While I'm on THAT.....what is it with the vinegar?? It is pretty much in everything here...(I like that as much as salad cream....yikes!) Half the population is likely pickled by now and that being without the ale.

Sweets...........I have had some of the best desserts here and chocolate. Brits LOVE their sweeties, cakes and biscuits...(cookies). Some not for the faint of heart...(Eccles Cakes....sugar coated donut-ish biscquit stuffed with raisins...you've been warned....that would have to surpass the Christmas pudding...that is nasty beyond definition...no offense all you lovers of the stuff..) I believe this one is "borrowed" from the French..but who cares right? Profiteroles...(mini creme puffs covered in chocolate sitting in chocolate pudding and usually also covered with chocolate sauce.....my mouth is watering too...) Scottish shortbread....(man, I love that stuff...) Digestive biscquits with chocolate frosting....(like a shortbread cookie of sorts with chocolate....or HOBNOBS if you prefer oatmeal...ME!) Flapjacks (speaking of oatmeal..) with or without chocolate. Top of my list has to be scones with clotted cream and jam. Clotted cream is the decadent cream of heaven. Rich and heavy...oh so good. Have with tea and call it cream tea. Whatever...I still prefer coffee.

Sainsbury's Organic Honey Popcorn...I have ALWAYS loved popcorn..but usually only the salted variety...I have since changed...there is something still comforting and not-so-decadent about it with a touch of sweetness...not missing the salt fried tongue for hours after. This stuff is SOOO good.

Of course...there is always Indian food nearby...which i also LOVE...(but it doesn't love me...) or Chinese or Greek or Spanish or whatever culture you can practically think of. One of the benefits of living in a multicultural area. Naan bread at my beck and call....(luckily, I practice restraint...) Enjoyed an Indian meal last night at the "Balty Towers". Honestly. Fans of British telly must love that name. One of the few places I have eaten at in England where the service was as good as that food. Rare in these parts.

I, like, my other half, tend to be a creature of habit and frequent the same places. That must change...there is likely many great stops on the road I have missed.....so much to try. Some good, some not so good....sometimes the best food is just pub food. Actually that is serious business over here...not the beer nuts or jerky of the USA. This is usually really good food. Serious about drinking AND eating.

Goodbye Charley Zen cat

2008-07-15T15:37:00.000-07:00

Another loss of a dear furry friend occured yesterday. This time it was Charley. This was a shock and hurts to the core. It is beyond the weep until your head hurts into the just sitting in silence, unable to face the thought of not seeing a little face again. I know that many of you are cat lovers such as myself and know the pain of loss. This was not my "pet" so to speak....but spent so much time here that he felt like ours in a way. The neighbors all around us and our complex knew him too. He had that way. The gentle Zen way that brought you peace and a good feeling to be around. A ray of sunshine in this frequently gray, rainy place. He had a look. A look that could melt your heart in an instant. So calm, almost caring. He even cared for his roommate and companion, Dido...sometimes playing the brutal older brother...just to keep her in check. Never forgetting to show his care for her.

I had only really known him for nearly a year now and it hurts like I had known him forever. My husband has known him for quite sometime and did the honor of burying him under the tree in the backyard for the neighbor and her daughter...he's a good man. He and Charley had an understanding...a great friendship.

He was only 10 and had severe diaphragmatic herniation... apparently for some time unnoticed. It had caught up with him and even with surgery, did not survive for long after he came out of anesthesia. We had so much hope. Hope that we would continue to have our visitor for an occasional cuddle, his comforting purr and soft gaze of reassurance. Never foul, never at odds...only to walk away or turn his back when he'd had enough coddling.

When Matt and I got home tonight, we both felt such sadness because Charley didn't run out to greet us and follow us in for a brief visit. Funny the little things we take for granted when they are no longer with us. This cool, damp house will be even more so this winter when he is no longer lying by the fire. I miss him so already...and I know that I am certainly not the only one. I could only wish for such reserve and courage in what he endured....he brought more comfort than he could ever know. Maybe he really did know.

It's the 4th..?

2008-07-08T13:18:00.000-07:00

The 4th of July has come and gone with barely a whisper. Something I found quite funny was that co-workers off and on through the day would pass by and say...."Oh...Happy Independance Day....by the way...". I don't believe I have really ever had a person wish me such. It is especially odd coming from persons that we are celebrating our freedom from. I even had some say, "Gee...why aren't you wearing red, white and blue or something with your flag on it??" Funny...I never even wore that when I was in the USA for the holiday.
I wonder if any Canadians got wished a Happy 4th over here...chuckle....(it is well known that asking a Canadian if they are American is the verbal equivalent of kicking them in the groin....I've asked people here on occasion if they were American and was looked upon as if I had slapped them in the face...didn't know those Canooks were so sensitive....)

Anyway...as you gathered, my day into evening was spent at work. Done at 7pm. Any other year, to be working only until 7pm...? I would have been glad for not having to work until or at 11pm. Matt and I went to a local biker bar for a grand opening. The performer (Ian the Goat) supposed to be a Black Sabbath tribute....was anything but.....i even recall a Tom Jones song in there. Ugh. On the 4th no less....that's just not right. I think we were home near midnight. Sad, but true. No fireworks, no bonfire, no mass quantities of alcohol...(that was the only good part...)

The following day we met with American and British friends for an afternoon BBQ and fireworks. In true England fashion, we sat out of doors only temporarily due to a downpour. No fireworks that night either with the exception of a few sparklers on what seemed to be a Pavlova of some type that tasted on Brandy....(no idea...) Bless Julie...she tried! Yet the company was wonderful and I am thankful for these friends that I have made here. They keep a little bit of home here for me....as we all do for each other. Otherwise leaving behind that feeling of lonliness and sadness for being so far away from home. Thank God for friends!

Santana

2008-06-21T12:42:00.001-07:00

Last night, I had the pleasure of witnessing a true legend in action. Carlos Santana. I have been a follower of their/his music for as long as I can remember. How can someone not love music that appeals to your senses and makes you just want to move....period.

I find that shows in England are not all too different....but there are a few. To start, you can walk into a venue and take damn near anything with you. No frisking at the door...no checking bags or turning you away with a camera case. This I forget too many times and enter without filming material of any kind. Conditioning from living in the states. I could have gotten the entire show on film without any problem. Damn. Next time.

The band started with one of my favorites from their first LP (remember those?) "Jingo". That was at leat 15-20 minutes in length. Jamming for everyone! I was in rhythmic heaven. (barring the Amazon behind me that thought she should screech every chord Carlos played....wanting for a dirty sock or any item to stuff into her huge mouth would have been a gift...) The play list consisted of primarily classic Santana tunes and for that, I am eternally grateful. I know he tries to keep up with the current affairs and music tastes...but I say...if it ain't broke...don't fix it. I think hearing "Smooth" more than once is too many times.....yes...they played it.

Carlos...in his true-to-himself fashion gave the rowdy crowd a 5-10 minute speel on sprituality and God. In England....that left the crowd a bit quiet. Oh well....go Carlos...after 40 years of this...you've earned it.

Thank heaven for modern technology and the huge screen behind the stage...for all to see! Amen sisters and brothers! The band playing and images of Carlos over the years....(obviously I am not the only one who sees him as a legend....he does too!!) Nonetheless....one of the brightest concert moments in my many long years. Good music...good fun. Rock on Carlos and God bless you for it!

Boring Old Farts

2008-06-21T07:03:00.000-07:00

I had the pleasure last weekend to experience my first motorcycle rally in England. A friend's sister is a biker and in a great group of folks....BOF (boring old farts...which are anything but). Ever see an old Scottish biker in a leather kilt...with a long grey mohawk? I didn't either til last weekend..:) Impressive. It was a nice English day...(partly cloudy...one minute jacket..next minute sleeveless shirt...weather..) It was as usual...set in an open field with tents all around.....bikes scattered and people standing in groups with glasses of beer. Some things never change.

There were merchants with clothing....and of all things....fudge. Yes fudge and the best damn stuff i have ever tasted mind you! Most people had curries for lunch. Ok...maybe you would never see that in the states...but they did sell burgers and chips (....uh...fries..) Nothing like a cold ale and a plate of hot curry....try it sometime....

The games were the usual...blindfolded wheelbarrow racing, balloon popping, and the yard of ale. The equivalent of chugging a yard of ale from the coolest glass you will ever see. I guess the trick is a good swallow and twist....won't touch that one. Nor did i attempt it. One of the top finishers was a woman though....no surprise there.....won't touch that one either.

There were children everywhere....another thing one would not see at a rally in the states...to my knowledge....Brits have no qualms about drinking in front of little Bobby or Suzie....(see my pub blog for elaboration)

There was live music as well as there usually is in the states.....this band was a young supposed tribute band to Zeppelin that played all from Zep to old Fleetwood Mac. Impressive.

The highlights had to be the bullride and the inflatable mat with platforms for 2....complete with helmets and large stuffed rods geared to pummel each other with. No...Matt and I did not attempt this either.....(though the thought had probably crossed his mind....) Fun for all the kids and adults....(adults that are still really big kids or just like to beat each other with large stuffed items) Also the appearance of Batman and Robin in cosumes straight out of a British show called "Only Fools and Horses" (you'd have to be there...I don't get it either...) Batman pushing Robin in a wheelbarrow blinded is quite funny though...I must say...(again...you'd have to be there)

One thing missing was the bikes. I really look to those to see all the dressed out bikes and admire what I don't have. Not that it was REALLY missed. These folks love to ride...but love to get together and enjoy each other's even company more. No fawning over polished Harleys or showing up the neighbor. Just a group of good folk out for fun. I was glad to be a part of it. Sun, fun and a relaxing day in the fresh air.....right Freddie??

Bye bye Daisy

2008-06-09T14:43:00.000-07:00

Today our neighbor's cat Daisy was hit by a car and killed. I did not see it and I am thankful...i got the play by play a bit from the neighbor's daughter...who is close to my age. I guess they have had their fair share of cat burials in the backyard. I cried like I had just lost my best friend. I had only known her a year or so. She was a lovely little being. So sweet and so kind in nature. I recall one perfect photo opportunity when she was nestled in on Matt's lap kneading her paws...(making the bread..) like she always did...drooling like nothing I'd ever seen....(a truly happy cat) Matt was asleep and I thought how I really should have gotten my camera for that moment and didn't want to wake him. Assuming that the opportunity would come again sometime. We always think that...don't we? Next time.

We'll miss her cuddles and her cute little face. Bye Daisy... what a precious little gift you were.

A sunny day out....

2008-06-08T15:41:00.000-07:00

My darling, observant husband, knowing that I feel like a rat in a cage most days, took me to the East Midlands today. It was one of the nicest days I've seen here yet....around 70 degrees or better...(don't ask me what that is in Celsius...) Lately, the lack of sun, the job and other things have really gotten the best of me....a sunny drive out was exactly what I needed. He avoided the motorways...(interstates...) and took the scenic and winding road....thank goodness. Such a gorgeous ride. Slowly coming out of the city limits and entering the country has never had the profound effect on me that it does now. I can instantly feel the calm wash over me. Peace and calm.

The roads wind and turn. The fences return to the rustic stone that I have come to associate with being away from the cities here...and there are sometimes miles of them...connecting and intertwined. Along the hillsides, they sometimes look like light dominoes...perfect and in alignment. Most of them having been here and only mended in spots for far longer than I can think. Most often...within these such fences that mark property lines...there are livestock grazing...that would predominantly be sheep. That is the only part that marrs the drives slightly for me....especially being that the lamb frolick in the fields and are a HUGE part of the diet here. At least they are running the fields and not stuffed in some warehouse/battery farm. Ok.....back to the subject.....just gets me every time.

We drove about 1 hour out of town up through Lichfield and into Hope and Castleton. Yes...there is a castle there. At least...what is left of one. Sitting on top of the most lovely village...rustic and cozy. I have fallen in love with yet another English village. These places keep me sane over here...trust me. Anyway....it is a bit of a walk up the hillside...but was worth every step....even if some of the sheep along the hillside begged to differ.

Later, after leaving the hilltop castle and finding Matt some chips at a basic chippy at the bottom of the hill...we opted to walk a bit. We wandered up to a cave-like area and met a kindly 3 legged cat who was the "greeter" at the entance to a tunnel of sorts that led to a beautiful small gorge beneath where the castle stands. I have never walked in such an area and enjoyed the rare fresh air and verdant hillsides. I marvel at the beauty in this country at such times. Plus the added bonus of having basically the entire area to ourselves....which is virtually a miracle in this country I believe.

Back to reality now and home again. Yet much more content and thankful that I have had the opportunity to live if even for a short time in a place of such beauty and history. Now if I could only think like this on the bus tomorrow after work........

annigonol ydy un iaith / dyw un iaith byth yn ddigon

2008-04-05T11:18:00.000-07:00

No. My keypad hasn't jammed...I'm not intoxicated. That is the Welsh phrase for "one language is never enough". I don't know Welsh either. I don't know any other language save for a few words here in there. Just as anyone. The usual, Spanish and French. Ok...maybe a few Finnish words too....likely dont' say them right...but I try on occasion.

To the subject....took a recent trip to Wales for the weekend. I must say I was not sure what to expect and had heard that it is a pretty country. I was not disappointed. Brought me back to driving through parts of Montana and Idaho. Rolling hills and mountains, valley streams, brisk and powerful seaside. I took roughly 500 pictures with my camera if that gives any indication. Picturesque.Wales has a high number of castles as well. Being American....how can I not be fascinated by them? The old churches that I love to search out...(not religious pilgrimage...merely fascination) are sometimes dated back to the 6th century. Read that again.....Can you conceive of how old that is? I can't. I bet there were a lot less people around. Refreshing. Unfortunetly, you can be out in the middle of the week, in the pouring rain AND cold....no matter. Harry and the little Mrs will have themselves and their 5 children out for family day at the local castle. Much to my dismay. I don't hate children or parents...just don't care to be around most of them. Not on my day out!

Nonetheless....I managed to enjoy the Welsh countryside very much so. One town in particular, Llandudno...the ultimate tourist trap-complete with Grand Hotel and pier...reminded me greatly of Mackinaw Island with cars. Like going back home for a day...at least close to home. Even found Seattle's Best coffee.....it is a small world after all.

Matt states he didn't hear any Welsh spoken...even away from all the tourists. I thought I did....yet in my naivete...could have been French...Dutch...Italian. Would I know the difference at this point? No. I never even realized until I moved to England that the Welsh actually still spoke Welsh...or that the longest town name in Europe and one of the longest in the world is in Wales. Not the worldly girl I thought i was.

Amazing thing is that all of it is only a few hours away....maybe even two. It takes a couple of hours to drive into another country....which may be true for many in America living close to Mexico or Canada. This country is yet considered "British"....much to it's inhabitants dismay i understand. I also have to remember that Great Britain's inhabitants don't consider themselves part of Europe either. To this day...they are fighting the Euro monetary system tooth and nail. Funny how so many Englanders make fun of Wales or even The Republic of Ireland for maintaining their identity, when they indeed are attempting to do the very same.

Off subject again.... I met my goal of seeing all the castles of Northern Wales and ancient churches that I possibly could. Nothing beats the great outdoors....except perhaps getting a history lesson in the process. THAT is a real bonus.

Can we get much more complicated?

2008-03-21T10:18:00.000-07:00

Last week, one of my "chores" to do was to get fingerprinted for my employer. It is a necessary evil to do an FBI background check in the USA. I didn't realize what I was getting myself into. I have come to learn living over here that anything that would "normally" take 5 minutes takes at least 20 in the UK....or more. Finding the site online...it stated that fingerprints would be necessary to do the criminal background check. Actually, I think it would be easier to commit a crime here and get it done more timely. I went to 2 local police stations...the response. "We don't do those here". Hmm...I might have known. Bet they have tea though.

I then had to go into Birmingham City to attempt it. Attempt a good word of choice. The station that does the printing stated that I needed a receipt of payment which I must obtain from a DIFFERENT station up the street. THIS message delivered by 2 young ladies from "upstairs" that joined us after the older gentleman at the desk "found out" what department did them. I would like to be joking...but I am not.

After going up the street...the "other" station stated that I must have a letter or form from my employer stating a request for fingerprinting to be done here as request for background check. *sigh* This gets better.

I returned to work and investigated this through "human resources". The majority of the day in my calls or visits to certain offices...I was met with a most curious look or tone. " I have never heard of such a thing being done here" (!?) Finally reaching the right person...she stated..."Oh yes..we would like that done please....but since it is short notice...we will have to reimburse you." This, mind you, is occuring nearly 1 month already into my employment. I am already working! Yet luckily...she produced a letter for me that day of my appointment...I was impressed!

So...back to Birmingham city i go.....(one short bus ride from work mind you....although the wind and rain was beyond ridiculous) I entered the appropriate station...even 15 minutes early....not much of a line ("Q" the Brits call them...I won't bother to try to spell it) I present my note and am given ANOTHER form to complete....as I am filling in the lines...i hear...."Wait....don't bother completing that form....this isn't acceptable" She states from behind the glass. I only look up with what was probably a look of pure hate. "Excuse me?" I say. "This says you need a CRB...not one word about fingerprints." I actually start laughing rudely and ask her if she is joking. I can see by the look on her stoic face that she most certainly is not. At this point I just turn and walk out....mumbling and good thing i was...or I would probably been fingerprinted if an officer would have overheard me. My mother would not have been proud. I attempted to call the office that had provided me with the letter only to get a student on the phone who has NO idea what I need or who to let me talk to in order to get an answer. The actual letter blows out of my hands out into the busy street. Rather than let it go....I wait patiently for all traffic to go by and trod across the street in the rain to retrieve it. All distraught for what has transpired. Until I realize while walking that this is not my problem....they should have had this rubbish dealt with before I got the job....not 1 month after. Maybe I will get them...maybe I won't. I know that I have no record in the US....they will just have to wait to find out. Of course...now having been here 8 months....I realize....waiting is what is done here.

I'm getting there...

2008-02-19T17:28:00.000-08:00

Today was a good day. The sun was shining, for starters. That in itself is a wonder in February, right? I took the bus into City Hospital to give them all of my personal and vital information, before staring my new job. They were kind and chipper. I jumped on what I thought was the same bus to get home and it was the "wrong" number 88. My poor husband really stresses over this one and knows not how it can be! It is honey...it really is so. The kindly bus driver gave me back £1.10 to catch the next bus...which i found VERY unusual...but shouldn't. (Especially cool considering the city had raised bus fare and I gave the wrong change in the morning. The driver had overlooked it, and I gave him the difference before exciting the bus. The look on his face was priceless...he seemed genuinely stunned. To think some people don't believe in karma...) I looked around and decided to walk and enhance my attempts to become fit. (I AM trying...honest...) I wavered a bit and actually decided to trust my instincts and knew it had to be close. I was right. In a city this size to find my way home on foot without asking directions or freaking out was a great feeling. Not that I would have attempted it at night, mind you. I am not yet that brave. Not monumental by any standards...but in my new-found life in England...it feels pretty damn good. As far as the £1.10....I can use it to start a fund in this city to get benches and covers at more bus stops for the elderly. Firmly implanted after speaking with a lovely elderly Welsh woman at my first stop this a.m.(ok...maybe I'll sit or take shelter once in awhile too...)

Time goes by....

2008-02-17T08:24:00.000-08:00

Unfortunetly, the end of January the Thompson family lost Leanne, my-sister-in-law to cancer. She fought bravely for several years. The combination of Chemo and a very aggressive type of the disease finally took it's toll upon her. She left behind 3 small children, a devoted husband and family and many friends of equal devotion. People loved her. She had charm and spark. I selfishly regret that I had such little time to spend with her to get to know her. Fortunetly, she had the opportunity to die peacefully in their home...with Nick at her side. I have seen death many times over in my nursing career. I have never been so honored and humbled before. It was peaceful and dignified. Friends came by to say goodbye and those who loved her could say farewell as she would have wanted. Sadly, those who loved her were left behind to grieve. Having been honest and open with the children, from what I have seen, seemed to provide some, albeit slight comfort. So young, so unfair.

I would discuss any or all that has occurred in the last couple of months...but I believe that in this moment, it isn't necessary...for respect. All else pales.

Twas a Happy Christmas

2008-01-06T10:11:00.000-08:00

Another Christmas has come and gone. Yet not just any Christmas...my first in England. Many things very much the same...a few quite different. My first in quite some time that was looked forward to by family and celebrated in the company of children the entire time. We were invited (or ordered:) to stay at my brother and sister-in-laws home in Alveley. I was more than happy...they have a lovely home in a quiet and pretty community. My other brother-in-law Jeremy and his wife Jackie were there too. Of course, Mum as well. Nick and Leanne have 3 lively children aged 3-7...and they ARE lively. Leanne is quite ill and the opportunity to share the holiday and help in any way was done whole heartedly. She loves Christmas and family...something so many of us take for granted. Life is so unfair at times.

The Eve was spent chatting with family and preparing items for the Christmas meal ahead of time. I assisted with broth and bread sauce. My best skill....kitchen helper. I can fetch spices, utensils and wash dishes like a whiz. I leave the true mixing and concocting to the pros....content to stand back and learn. In the evening, we had a meal of baked salmon and salad...very light and tasty. A lovely quiet eve with a few toddies and relaxation.

Early morning came and the chatter and much-too-loud cantor of small children wafted into the room. Soon they came bounding in all gleeful and merry. Nothing says Christmas like a small child giddy over the gummy eyeballs found in a stocking....yummy. *sigh* To be a kid again.

The day was full of preparation and present opening ... my jolly brother-in-law Nick playing Father Christmas this year....hat and all. I was spoiled rotten.

The meal was lovely and the usual fare....with the exception of a few bits and bobs....bread sauce...bacon wrapped prunes...(yes kids...prunes...) bacon wrapped mini sausages and I can't forget Christmas pudding.....(ok...I must be honest....this stuff is awful....like a soft fruitcake...full of the the taste of ginger, cloves and orange rind...not for the faint of heart...like me....it doesn't matter that they light it on fire before serving.....still tastes a bit much).

After the meal and dessert...there are medium sized tubular wrapped gifts by our plates. Like a large twisted wrapped toilet roll....only frilly. This would be a Christmas cracker....the family crosses arms and holds one end of their own and the one of the person seated next to them. The kids love this....as you can see...displayed by the lovely Victoria, Katherine and Elizabeth... At the count of 3....everyone pulls and the room fills with loud pops/cracks. The inside gifts are revealed...along with a crown and joke that is read aloud by each person. This was fun and different....although I had some silly plastic arrow trick that made no sense to me....my husband was kind enough to give me his silver floating heart...that's my guy. After the meal clean up...by the MEN...(now THAT is REALLY different...) It was an early night for everyone...too much merriment and crown wearing.....

The next day is another holiday here in Blighty....Boxing Day. A day that originated with giving gifts to the underpriveledged and employees. I hear that many years ago...some families didn't open their gifts until then. Pity the folks with children....what a long day Christmas must have been. Now...children aren't used to waiting....what a concept.
This Boxing Day....we attended a pantomime. Now...I had no idea what to expect short of a puppet show. Not exactly. A full stage production that is a cross between a broadway show and vaudeville. Much humor, costumes, and elaborate sets...both for children and adults. The type of adult humor that would NEVER be seen in the USA....shame. Such a need for lightening up. Afterwards a luncheon at N & L's friends' lovely Georgian and Victorian home. Amazing. Lovely and sharing people.

I will treasure the memories made with this holiday season. Friends and family met and made. I am grateful that I have been welcomed into such a grand and wholesome tradition. A Happy Christmas indeed.

I think I'll have another ale....

2007-11-26T12:07:00.001-08:00

Having been here in England for nearly 4 months, I have visited a fair amount of pubs. My husband fancies that his goal is to find the perfect ale. I must say, I think we have a long and daunting task upon our hands. Of all I have stepped into, perhaps 1 or 2 were even worth taking more than 2 drinks from the pint...or half-pint most usually. Remember the Keystone beer commercials of days gone by that make light of "bitter beer face"? For me...it is still going strong here. Ugh. I have never had such a bitter lot in my life. With names such as "Brains Bread of Heaven" or "Angel of the North" one would expect a mix smooth as silk. Wrong. Perhaps the names given of "Brewdog Hop Rocker" or "Frog Island Croak & Stagger" are most fitting indeed. Fortunetly, most barkeeps are kind enough to give you the complementary sip to make sure you haven't ordered a pint of extreme pucker power. Of course...I should be drinking a "lager"....(yeek) or (gulp) a cider. Never one to shy away from a challenge...I will continue to experiment....or get my husband drunk with my shunned leftovers.

I reflect back upon the "bar" names in the states. Simple most days...to the point. Same idea...different country. Particularly in the area that we live in here in the Black Country, Waggon and Horses seems to be the name of choice. Sometimes seen with the rare "Old" thrown in front of it to mix things up a bit. Actually, I am told, "The Red Lion" is the common name of choice. Associating with flags, medieval kings....yadda, yadda. Haven't read up on that one yet. Of course....King /Queen Head is top on the list. Strange as that is. Stranger yet is many of the various other options: "Bull and Bladder" "The Bucket of Blood" "Donkey on Fire" and my personal simple and tasteful choice: "The Cock Inn". I reserve comment on that one. One thing I must note, the food in most pubs in Britain is FANTASTIC. Not the usual pizza and onion rings. I'm talking broiled salmon and garlic potatoes...and the puddings (desserts) are to die for. I would put most any pub's food up against most top notch restaurants in the USA. Brits take their eating VERY seriously....God love them for it. (My waistline hates it...but I'm still "sort of" on vacation.) My sister warned me that the food was awful here! How not so! Damn...it's too good most times.

Probably the reason why you will see several children in pubs here....it's a family affair. Hell...some even have play areas out back for the kids....no joke. Come on out...have a few snorts and drive the kids home...one part sarcasm...one part sad truth. Doesn't seem to pose much problem from what i read and hear. I'm still adjusting to all of it. Another of the many...."I'm not in America anymore" moments.

Also...forget that mandatory cigarette in the pub for all you smokers out there. Hey...no problem...beer "garden" outside (not so fun in winter....yet usually covered anyway...) and if needed...just take your drink outside of the pub and have a smoke. Depending what time of year....walk through town with it. (Many do anyway...especially in the smaller areas....discretion...no problem..) As long as people are having fun and nobody gets hurt...it's all good. It's just that occasional jack-ass that has to bugger it up for everyone else. Yet...no harm there...if the establishment is lucky enough to contact a policeperson....take the git to the cell and let everyone else get on with the merriment. Good and bad in everything. I just do as my age and choice dictates....have a nice pint or two...a great snack/dinner....perhaps a terrific tribute band (or actual popular artist) and get home before the all-too-lively are running the streets. No harm no foul.

Driving...think I'll take a train....

2007-11-17T03:57:00.000-08:00

Anyone who knows me, knows that I have no problem driving. Alone, with a group, major city...I'll do it all. Until now. "Hmmm....drive on the left side, on the right side of the car....and you want me to shift too? That road will allow 2 cars at once, let alone a motorcycle or pedestrian? What's a round-a-bout...is an island the same thing? The light goes to yellow..then green?! You drive Matt....I have a headache...must have been that strong cuppa...." Wow. Yes...that is me now. Worried, nervous....and out of my element. A train or bus will take me where I need to go....well...skip the bus if you're on a schedule.

Don't get me wrong, I have driven a few times. Just ask my husband....or maybe not....he may get that look of terror again....and a small bead of sweat may roll off his cheek...or is that a tear..?? Never mind....

I have the ok to drive for up to a year on my US license without test. At least, they say that. I actually should have a nice big red L in my window to do it right. Honestly. They are everywhere here....(and no it doesn't stand for Loser...unless you are behind me while I am driving...) It means learner...and in Wales, a D...(for Dysgwr....yes, it really is a word....could be dumb or dork...but it means learner...so they say...) After your test, you are supposed to remove the L and use a P......(make up your own...but it SUPPOSEDLY means probation) Takes you back to the days of the Scarlett Letter doesn't it..? Frightening...) Plus...you must learn on a manual transmission...or it really doesn't count for much. Motorcycles are just as trying....or complicated dare I say. In actuality, I imagine that it does make them better drivers somehow....I have yet to see it most days.....(you think the Cabbies are bad in the states....hahaha....small beans..) I think perhaps being a pedestrian should have proper training...wear the big P or letter of choice or color....(hmm...maybe that would just make you an easier target...not sure on that one...)

No worries of getting stopped by a cop for any random reason....much less a good one. They are a rarity in these parts, unless on foot. They have decided to use speed cameras instead. Think of the money we could save in the USA....I won't go there. The cars are quite small in many cases...with "petrol" being at the equivalent of $8.00 a gallon....it's no wonder. No mindless "cruising" here....plus squeezing down a one-lane road with cars parked on both sides might be fun and challenging to some....not this kid. Like I said....I'll just take the train. Sit next to the crew going to the local "football" match and drink a beer on the ride....(yes..that is allowed too sports fans...)

Being the stubborn sort that I am....I will master this driving "thing" as well as I can. To the heavy sigh of relief of my other half....parking lots (if ever empty) and lonely college campuses will have to do for now... So next time you see my hubby and he looks a bit weathered and worn....you'll be clued in. Bless....

Relearning English...

2007-11-05T10:45:00.000-08:00

I am proud of the fact that as time goes on I am getting more adjusted to the "English" language. Yes...you read that right. There appears to be many differences from the American form. I still have to moniter my words to prevent embarrassment to myself and worse yet, my poor husband. Bless him. (or simply "Bless.." as he prefers...:) He is a patient interpreter. Not only are many of the terms and words entirely different, but getting past the dialects is another challenge. One learns to listen very closely....I never imagined I would be on the other end of the polite smile and nod. Yet...I have been....many don't know what the hell I am saying either!! I love it...does that make me a silly cow or git..? Only my husband will really tell me for sure....kindly.

Where shall I begin? It's all good....and fun. Unless you are on a bus and have no idea where you are...in that case you just hope that they speak English in any form!! Yes...I am picking up on many phrases and terms....just to avoid confusion. Must remember....pants mean underwear... if knickers isn't used of course. The bathroom is where you bathe or wash only....toilet or "loo" is preferred for potty....oh and they don't use that one either.

I have always used "nappy" for sleep....not here....that would be the equivalent of diaper...."kip" would be right. Because if you have a kip....you must be knackered or shattered after your evening tea (meal) because you were quite peckish (hungry) and had to murder a chip butty (dinner fries on a cob....uh...bun) and jelly (jello) . Well...you get the point.

IN any case....books have been written on this subject, I'm sure....at least they could be. Yet...they would have to encompass all of Britain....not only British to Irish to Scottish and Welsh..(they probably wouldn't want to be included anyway...plus they still speak Welsh...no....REALLY) but WHERE they are from.....Black Country (yam yams), Geordie, Estuary, Cockney, Cornish...again...you get the point!

The best part is every day I am learning something new and that is the fun in it. Perhaps not to the unfortunate soul on the other end of the conversation. Thank goodness the folks here are more patient than we Americans. Bless.

Random

2007-11-04T03:15:00.000-08:00

As difficult as it is to believe, I have been in England now nearly 3 months. In all honesty, some days it seems much longer! One word of warning if you travel here, my American friends and family....prepare to stand in line! They refer to them as "queues" here...fancy name...same pain. You wait on the phone, you wait in line, you wait in your car.....basically everywhere. My point...if you make your way over....don't hurry!! I could go on about that for a page...but i will spare everyone.
I decided to start a page with photos and notes as a type of diary so all could share the adventure from afar with me. Ok......honestly....I have been very busy lately and writing back sometimes takes me days. I will get back to the letters i receive as I can....so not to worry. It may take time....but i will....I know that most of you are just as busy as me...if not more so....and take time out to send me a note...I am grateful for that. This just enables me to get a general note out every couple of days or sooner, if I have time on my hands, and feel the need to trouble those of you who care to read it! :)

So much to reflect back upon over the last few months. Places I've seen, people I have come to know. I have seen some of the most beautiful cathedrals in the world, the oldest villages, the most famous landmarks. I have driven on the left side of the road on the right side of the car. If you think driving in the USA is scarey...have a go over here....better yet...try to be a pedestrian! Now...THERE is an adventure! I have received a National Insurance Number (so they can't tax the hell out of me more than they already do..), credit & debit card/checking account, National Health Services Medical card...(yes...free health care....don't get excited....it's not very exciting...or great....ask anyone that lives here...or works for the NHS...) I have a job....(I have thus far cheated...my in-laws have employed me...but it's a start!) Quite a lot to process in only 3 months....(she pats herself on the back...since hubby is not here to thank AGAIN). Not too bad. Helps to have a partner who occasionally feels the need to put his foot firmly on my backside when i need the encouragement. I will add photos as I see fit and if anyone has specific requests for such...just mention. I will do my best to accomodate. When you live here....you tend to miss what someone visiting would possible catch. Oh, but believe me....I still notice a great deal! Sometimes all one can say is ..."Wow....they can't say that on US television.." or "Hmm....I forget I'm not in the US anymore..." Whatever the case may be! Cheerio then and as they say here in the Black Country....."Tarah!"