Begging, Borrowing and.... School?

Its around that time again in America when the kidlets go back to school after having done pretty much nothing the whole summer. Bad news for me - I don’t have any children at school anymore, but my journey to work will be lengthened by at least 25 minutes. Parents here don’t walk. It seems like every child, no matter how close to the school they live, will get a lift from their parents who dutifully queue in their cars so their bundles of joy can be dropped exactly in front of the gate. It makes for a long journey to work, especially if you have to pass more than one school. And it doesn’t matter if it’s an infants school or a high school – its all the same!

Every year at this time the shops are just crazy with parents running around trying to get ready for the first day of school. Not only do you have to buy a whole new wardrobe because there are no uniforms unless you pay for your kids to go to a fancy schmancy private school, but you also have to buy school supplies! Now I was under the impression that America was one of the richest countries in the world, but apparently not rich enough to provide schools with what they need.

Not content with having you provide your own paper, pens, pencils, crayons, rulers, folders and sometimes even books, on that first day you get a "wish list" of what the teacher would like the class to bring in which can be anything from tissues to hand sanitizer. I’ve even heard of one school asking for copy paper and printer cartridges, which is a bit bloody cheeky if you ask me.

A bit cheeky?

Then, about a week later the fundraiser packets will start to arrive – sent home as ‘homework.’ Not content with the handouts for the teacher, you now have to raise money for the school, whether by selling magazine subscriptions, cookie dough or wrapping paper. Each child is expected to sell as much as possible. To top it off, they have an assembly where they are told if they sell a certain number of items or dollar amount, there will be prizes involved. Yes, prizes - talk about motivation! Not only that, they bring in the 'prizes' to show off so each child can really see what they’ll be missing out on if they don't sell anything. Mind control at it’s very best! (And yes, there was that one year I had to buy enough items myself so my daughter could become the proud owner of a Razor scooter).

Oh how I miss the English way of fundraising…. The wonderful school fete! Parents donate a tin of spaghetti hoops for the tombola and that’s the end of it. No begging your family to buy some really expensive wrapping paper they will never use or some overpriced piece of junk that looks good in a catalogue, but never works how it’s supposed to. 

But then again, as someone mentioned the other day – there are only thirteen (yes 13) weekends until Christmas…. Better get buying some pressies.

Hold on, I know someone with a kid who’s fundraising!!!! J

Nooo......

Holiday Photos

I've been away on holiday for a couple of weeks, so haven't been able to post for a while.  Not because I didn't have access to a computer or internet, but because I went "home" and there was just too much joy in my life for me to be able to think about anything else.  There were also many, many pork pies, sausage rolls, Marmite flavour Crisps, Mini Cheddars, Flakes and Lucozades to be consumed.  Well, pretty much anything I hadn't seen in the last few years was up for noshing.  I don't think there was anything I didn't eat, to be honest!

 

I'm back now and have been a bit busy the last couple of days.  Not lazy, busy.  I have not got jetlag, no I don't (no really, I don't).  *smile*

 

So because you might have been missing me... here's a few holiday photos.  Did I say I was acting like a tourist while I was there?  Yup - totally touristy and brilliant.  The weather was even lovely and I am not joking about that - it was hot!  (and very, very muggy and sweaty - but who cares, eh?)

 

 

The Shard

Yes, sunny Brighton Beach!

 

 

Quintissential London Phone Box



 

Does it look touristy enough?  I was with my American fiance who's never been to England, so I could endulge in all of the tourist stuff without looking like a muppet!  It was the best time - I just wish I didn't have to come back.  (But here I am)

A Little Etiquette Please

I have often wondered why Americans don’t use knives when eating.  Having been brought up to eat properly with a knife in the right hand, fork in the left, it continues to amaze me when I see people trying to actually cut their food with a fork.  Go to any restaurant and you will see it all the time. 

But what’s even more hilarious is watching them when they actually try and use both utensils.  Totally the wrong way round, they might as well be wearing boxing gloves!  The fork is always upside down and the knife, well, don’t even ask what they’re doing with the knife.  It looks a bit dangerous, as if the food is about to shoot off the plate at any minute.  You can watch this for agonizing minutes and then once the “cutting” is over, they go back to eating all their bite size pieces with only a fork, which they have switched back to the other hand.  A bit like cutting food up for your baby.



Right?

Wrong?

I have often sat and watched Dave try and cut a juicy steak with his fork, leaned over and said “You do have a knife you know, wouldn’t that be easier?”  I get “the look.”  Now I’m not saying it’s the wrong way to eat (it is), but it is just so, well, awkward and looks like a a lot of hard work. 

Here’s a short and possibly quite possibly ‘politically incorrect’ lesson in using a knife and fork the Downton Abbey way. 

 

 

I find it very peculiar and funny to watch the Americans, but I will admit I get funny looks when I’m eating Pizza and fried chicken (not at the same meal) with a knife and fork. I am told “That’s what your hands are for.” But it doesn’t feel right to eat with my hands.   That'll be my "stodgy" British upbringing. 

Oh and one more thing, when you’ve finished, America, please put your knife and fork together in middle of the plate. Thank you. That’s all.

 

 

Charlie Bit Me!

We have Dave's grandchilden staying with us this week (Dave being my fiancé -  I thought I better give him a name, he was feeling  a bit left out) and it's, well, an experience.  *smile*

Our dog is Charlie and he just love, love, loves little children.  Not to eat, of course, but then he is a pitbull type of dog (okay he is a whole pitbull) but he loves to play and tends to get excited and nip at clothes and sometimes gets your skin.  So this morning I hear "Charlie bit me!" and a bit of a sob.  As I run into the kitchen Charlie is sitting looking at me as if to say "What did I do?"  And the little'un says again "Charlie bit me!" Which, of course, reminded me of this video, a classic from England.  I just had to take a look again - it's so lovely and British.  How can you not smile?  This is actually where Charlie got his name.

The thing is, it just doesn't sound quite the same in an American accent!

This is Charlie

The Two Fingered Salute

Being English I do love a good hand gesture. 

 

Unfortunately most of them don’t translate over the pond.  On a few occasions, I have given other drivers the fist shaking, circled thumb and forefinger sign (known as the ‘tosser’ or ‘wanker’ sign anywhere in Britain).  This rarely gets a reaction from an American driver – they just think you are shaking your fist at them.  I tried to elaborate by sticking my tongue in my cheek at the same time, but that just makes me look strange and feel a bit stupid, if truth be known.

I have now taken to using the middle finger or “flipping the bird” as it’s called.  I have no idea why it’s called the bird – I have done extensive research (i.e. I Googled it) and couldn’t find any answers.  It’s supposed to represent a phallus, so the bird doesn’t make sense to me.  But that gesture is now my go-to hand signal while driving.  Not that I’m driving and flipping people off all the time, but there are moments when you just need to express your opinion or distaste for others' driving habits.

 

People who know I’m English do still get the ‘V’ sign.  It’s so much nicer than that solitary middle finger.  And it has a great history.  Also known as “the two fingered salute,” “The Longbowman Salute,” “The Agincourt Salute,” “the Rods” or a number of other names, it's believed to have originated during the Hundred Years War at the Battle of Agincourt when the longbowmen used the gesture towards the French, showing they still had their bow fingers and could still shoot arrows.  It is said the French would cut those fingers off any captured Brits.   This may not actually be true, but in good English tradition, it sounds brilliant so we’re keeping the story.

Oops Mr. Churchill - wrong way round!

It just feels so nice to shake the good old ‘V’ sign with both hands now and then that I just don’t want to give it up.  So whether anyone understands it or not, I won’t stop!

What's on the Telly?

Am I wrong, should I be so excited?  They’re making a Paddington Bear film and I can’t wait.  I remember back in the day sitting with my children watching Paddington on the telly every afternoon.  It seems though that most American’s have no idea who he is.  How cruel.

The film is due to be released in England in November.  I wonder if it will reach the USA?

 

 

And this made me wonder how many brilliant children’s tv programmes never made it across the pond.  It seems as if they always travel the other way and we got American shows.  How can I forget Scooby Doo and Little House on the Prairie (we called it crying day because it was always so sad).

My son was a huge Thomas the Tank Engine fan.  He had all the videos and books with cassettes and he knew all the words. (yes, it was a while ago)  Ringo Starr was his friend.  That one did make it over, but it annoys me that everyone calls it Thomas the Train.  But nobody seems to have heard of Thunderbirds and I was so sure it was an American programme.  Didn’t they all have American accents and names?  I had a huge crush on Virgil.  Oh dear my first love was a puppet!

Good grief - look at those eyebrows!
Thunderbirds are Go!

I could watch forever

While flicking through the tv guide recently, I found Charlie and Lola.  Although made for toddlers it made me stop and watch because I just can’t get enough of those English accents.  I never realized before just how wonderful English children sound.  It’s just so… well, cute!  (Arghh, an Americanism)

They say such wonderful things as "I'm really everso not well."  Perfect!

 

Nothing makes me more homesick than listening to English children.

 

Be My Guest

I was recently asked to do a guest blog for http://ukdesperatehousewifeusa.com.  I had contacted Claire to let her know how much I liked her blog and how I had been through the same learning curve - although it seems like ages ago now. 

I'm loving the stories about her son and can remember quite clearly when my son, after his first day in Third Grade, came home and disgustedly informed me he didn't want to go to school here because "They can't even find England on a map"

Oh joy!

Oh, there we are!

Beside the Seaside

Photo Courtesy: Tony Ray-Jones

When I was growing up, to go to the seaside was a major adventure.  Although it was only about 40 miles or so, it would seem to take hours to get there.  We would pack sandwiches and a flask of coffee for the journey.  And on a Bank Holiday, forget it - it would feel like days of sitting in traffic.  When you got there, it was cold!! 

We always had to look for that one particular parking space which was close to the beach, close to the shops and of course close to the funfair or the pier.  We were so excited to get onto the beach.  The wonderful beach – ahh those perfectly formed round pebbles in every size, some big enough to stand on, while others were just the right size to get into your shoe or between your toes to create the most pain.



Get to the Water Dance!

Children learn to run to the water and into the waves to find that illusive bit of sand so you can actually stand still for a while.  Everyone else does the “Get to the Water Dance”… arms out to the side, elbows pumping, knees jerking up and down, eeks and ahhs squealed.  Hilarious to watch, but we all do it! You get to the water and stand for just a moment before your legs go numb from the cold… and then the dance begins again, back to your spot (if you can find it).  And you shiver, wrapped in a towel behind your windbreak, on your rented deck chair, eating cheese sandwiches which somehow manage to have sand in – although you couldn’t find any sand on the beach if you tried.  Where does it come from?

IF you can find your spot!

Every trip ends with a walk along the pier and a stick of rock – or my favourite, a seashell full of sweets in the shape of pebbles. Oh those were the days…..








And now, here I am living in sunny California. To go to the beach is a spur of the moment thing. Grab a towel, jump in the car and head west for about 40 minutes (or less). When you get there you sink your feet into the golden sand and “walk” to the water, which is warm! Pure bliss!!

I just wish I could find a stick of rock!

Gor Blimey Guv'nor

I’ve been here quite a long time now and I am still managing to keep my English accent – kind of.  According to relatives back home, I sound like a “bloody Yank!” 

During the first few years it was a struggle – especially on the phone.  While working my first job, I’m not sure I should have been the receptionist.  Typical telephone conversations would sound like this:

 

How do you do?

            “Hello, Law Office…”
                        “Hi, Can I get your address”
            “Certainly, It’s  (blah, blah) Road, Suite K”
                        “What”
            “Suite K”
                        “A?”
            “No, K”
                        “What did you say?
            “K, for Kettle”
                        “What?”
            “K.. for Kettle….. Oh never mind, hold on…”

I also try to avoid drive-throughs, ordering over the phone or putting my name on the list in a restaurant.  Something definitely gets lost in the translation.  I stopped giving my name as I would get Sherry, Shary, Sean, Karen … nope – it’s none of those!  So I tried Dave… easy, you would think.  Um.. not so much – now its DIVE… even when I spell it out.   Oh dear…

But it seems everyone in America, no matter who or where, loves the English accent.  Even though there’s quite a lot of them who have absolutely no idea where I come from.  Over the years, I have been asked if I was from “the South,” Texas, Scotland (close, but not really), South Africa, France (wait, what?) and of course…. Australia!  Everybody thinks I’m Australian!  *rolls eyes*

Now don’t get me wrong, I have absolutely nothing against Australia – but it gets really annoying to be mistaken for an Australian all…the…time.

And the worst thing ever (and it happens on an extremely regular basis) – talking to someone and having them mimic your accent in the most god awful Dick van Dyke-ish London accent. 

 

Stop it!  Stop it now!!! Please……

 

 

Nice Weather for Ducks

Rain… it’s piddling down, it’s raining cats and dogs, it’s drizzling, pouring, bucketing down, pissing down, spitting… I think us English have about the same amount of words for rain as Eskimos have for snow.  But then we are used to the rain, it’s a way of life for us.  It could be lovely when you leave home, but you better take your brolly as it could tip down any minute.  Arrange a BBQ?  Better make alternative plans – just in case.

So when it comes to rain anywhere else, it’s quite funny to see the reaction, especially in sunny southern California.  Oh dear – it’s a disaster – Storm Watch 2014!!

I’m driving on the freeway, well not actually driving, just basically sitting because it’s raining.  No, not pouring, not piddling, not even spitting, it’s just a little bit of hazy, drizzling rain and the freeway has ground to a halt!  I know California is the land of never ending sunshine, but really.  The tiniest little drop of rain and every head automatically goes up a bum.  There are two classes of people – the “Oh no, I must drive really, really slowly in case I have an accident” and then there’s the “Oh, I better drive really, really fast because I’m a California speed racer and I know how to drive in the rain.”  WRONG!  And accidents abound.

Tsk, tsk California.  I would really like to see how all these people would cope having to stand at a bus stop for 30 minutes in the rain, getting soaked to the skin.  We do it, we have to and we all complain about the weather, we are English after all – it’s a national pastime.  But of course we do have that stiff upper lip which prevents us from being too outspoken.  We just mumble “bloody weather” and get on with it.

But I do have one question.  When did rain change it’s name?  Why is it that every weather forecaster now calls rain “precipitation?”  “There’s a bit of precipitation coming in the next few days…”  Is it supposed to make us feel better, give us a sense of security that actually, you don’t have to be an idiot on the freeway because it’s precipitation and not the dreaded R word…. R-A-I-N!

Where I come from, rain is rain!  No fancy names, just Rain!

 

What Happened to 'U'?

How do you attempt to get a job in a new country?  That was my dilemma.  I knew I could do it, but it was so incredibly frightening.  What if I can’t?  What if they don’t like me?  What if I screw up so badly that I will never get a job?  Can I go home…. Please??  (*sad face*)  After a fruitless couple of months looking, one thing was becoming exceedingly clear to me – Americans LOVE the English accent!  Every person I spoke to, every interview I went to, everyone - without fail - said “I just love your accent”…. Oh joy!   

So, I was finally able to convince someone to give me a job.  And then a whole new frustration started.  New country, new job, new …. Language?  What the?  American English is not English English.  I had to learn to spell all over again.  It seemed like every single word had a different spelling than I was used to.  We all know the “U” is missing from almost every word in the US.  In fact, the American keyboard only has 61 keys instead of the 62 on a UK one.  I presume it’s because the U is hardly ever used. 

‘Our” becomes ‘or’; “re” becomes “er”; “ogue” becomes “og”; double “L” becomes single; or then again single “L” becomes double; “ise” becomes “ize”; “ce” sometimes becomes “se”….good grief.  And on top of all that, the bloody keyboard is arranged differently.  What is a girl to do? 

SPELL CHECK – Spell Check is Your Friend.

That was my mantra for at least a couple of years.
 

I think I’ve got it now, although for my own purposes I still use all the “U’s” I can.  I refuse to conform. I will not write American English.  So there Noah Webster, you and your silly new fangled American spelling dictionary!  Trying to get us all to change because you were too lazy to write the whole word!

 

Hello New World

 

August 12, 1994…. That fateful day when we (the family) boarded a plane at Heathrow Airport and started on our journey to our new life in California, where the streets were paved in gold…. Or so we had heard. It’s been nearly 20 years and I still haven’t found those pavements, but I’m still looking!

 

It was weird, that first year. Moving from a fairly busy town in South London to, basically, the middle of the desert. For a while we were living in the 'high desert,' on a two mile dirt road with no television and just, well dirt…. What a culture shock! It didn’t take long for us to look for the nearest civilization and get the heck out of that dust basin. We moved down the hill –that’s it, not far, but you wouldn’t believe the difference – oh joy, actual grass, no horses, no dust!

 

I could have done with this for the first two years!

The biggest hurdle? Trying to remember to drive on the wrong side of the road. Now, I’m not saying I’m a brilliant driver (I am), but I do have a problem with my right and left. Tell me to go right and I will invariably go left – I’m sure I’m not the only one with this problem, but try getting into a car and driving on the “other” side of the road, especially when there are no lines down the middle. A couple of near misses didn’t even phase me, I still managed to get it wrong. I think over time I’ve been quite successful.

 

However, there are still times I get in the wrong side of the car… try driving off when you realize you’re sitting in the passenger seat.

 

And I would like to ask WHY? Why America do you need to drive on the wrong side – this isn’t Europe. There’s no need to be fancy. I can understand the French wanting to confuse us, but aren’t England and the US supposed to be related, cousins or something… now that’s a dysfunctional family - stop being mean to us.

 

Oh well, I’m here and it looks like it’s for the long haul, so I had better just get used to it. Oh if only I could….