Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Being English

I don't know if it is just me, but there comes a time in an expat's life when you begin to long for anything from home - no matter what it is.

I can spot a Union Jack or a St. George's cross from a mile away and usually, I must have it. Needless to say, my house is gradually becoming "English."  Much to the dismay of the Mr.  His house, when I moved into it just over ten years ago, was a totally manly, Harley Davidson shrine with motorcycle pictures, American Indian stuff and even a bloody Jackalope [don't ask].

I began very subtly replacing his stuff with mine.  He didn't notice at first, you know, as men don't tend to, but one day, he looked around and mumbled, "What the bloody hell happened here?"  (Yes, he's even picked up a few of my quaint English terms).  He stood in front of this wall and just groaned.

And then there's the kitchen cupboard which he never, ever opens.  I think mainly because it has so much Marmite, Oxo and curry in there and he's just a little bit scared!  It looks like this:
That's a LOT of Marmite!
But it doesn't stop there.  It's not just pictures and food, it's flipping everything!  For example, there are cup and saucer sets, brollies, mugs and picture frames.  Not forgetting the cupboard full of sweets and then there’s the 100 t-shirts that I can’t seem to walk past in a shop without buying.  [I might be exaggerating a bit on the number of shirts, but not by much, unfortunately.]  Oh, and don't forget the tea bags! There's absolutely no way you can walk past an unexpected shelf of PG Tips and not buy at least three boxes!

Shirts???
My most recent acquisition?  This absolutely brilliant St. George’s Cross shot glass.   Do I drink shots on a regular basis, nope, not really (no, really I don't), but who doesn’t need one of these?  It's not often you find something with a St. Georges Cross, so obviously I.had.to.have.it!

Drinks anyone?
I know if I still lived in England, I wouldn’t have half of this stuff because really, who wants to live in a fake British Pub.  Plus you would look a bit naff walking around in Union Jacks all the time, but being here, it tends to make it okay. (*shame face*)

So I think I will begin introducing myself by saying  "Hello, my name is Sharon and I'm a Union Jack Hoarder"

1 comment:

  1. This made me laugh out loud! Love it :) Although my husband and I moved here together, so he understands the hoarding of tea bags, bisto and chocolate. It's our new American friends that find it a little odd :)

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