Thanks for Staying Scotland!

IT'S A NO!!  

In my last post, I said I didn't think men in kilts were at all sexy and they should wear trousers in Scotland from now on.  However, doing a bit of a Google search, my attitude may have changed just a tad when I found these pictures.  (Men, you might want to look away now)

Phwaaar!

So, I would emphatically like to say THANKS FOR STAYING SCOTLAND  *swoon*

Unfortunately, in my experience, when you actually meet a man in a kilt, he tends to look like this:

Oh, and I'm also glad we don't have to change the flag.

Scotland, Are You Really Leaving?

What with all the talk of Scotland's independence going around at the moment, I thought I would put in my tuppence…. I am not at all politically interested in anything (true story) so I’ve really only been reading the headlines.  But as with anything there are pro’s and con’s and I thought I would make my list.  So here goes

PRO'S

Bagpipes

I know there are a lot of people out there who absolutely love them, but to me, the bagpipes sound like someone trying to strangle a cat.  It’s like nails on a blackboard to me – makes me cringe.  So maybe England can ban them?  Please.....?

Oh look - bagpipes!

Trafalgar Square

When England play Scotland at Wembley, the English would be able to sing and dance in the fountains at Trafalgar Square.  Up until now, the Scottish take over and you can’t get anywhere near the bloody things.  Mind you, it’s not that England supporters ever have anything to sing and dance about.

Can we have a go please?

Men in Skirts

I don’t know about you, but to me a man in a skirt is just not sexy and it seems that those bloomin’ Scots always want to show you what’s underneath and it’s usually nothing!! Please, please don’t do that….. Good old English trousers please!

I don't really need to see this, thank you.

CON'S

Passports

You might have to show a passport to get into Scotland from England.  I’m not sure this is actually a con for me, seeing as I’ve never actually been to Scotland – the furthest north I’ve been is Newcastle and although they talk incredibly funny there, I don’t think it’s actually Scotland.

Biscuits

Walker’s Shortbread, who doesn't love it?  I love the stuff dipped in a nice cuppa.  Every Christmas I buy a big tin of Walkers. I won't be able to live without it.  (Well, I probably could, but I don't want to).  Will Scotland stop us being able to buy some?

I'm going to miss this

The Union Jack

This has got to be the biggest 'con' of the lot.. what will happen to our wonderful flag?  Am I going to have to throw away all my union jack emblazoned items.  Do I need to take my flag off my car?  It will look really odd (and a bit anaemic) without the blue.  And yes, I have just managed to make the Scottish independence debate all about myself.

Stay with us Scotland... we need your blue bit!

But I suppose we will all have to wait until tomorrow to find out what happens.  I'm a bit of a traditionalist and although Scotland already have their own Parliament, their own money and their own flippin' language, I just don't want them to go.  It will be like having your upstairs neighbours move out and although you've never actually talked to them, you're used to them because they were always there.  It's all a bit sad really.

The County Fair Experience

Something we don't have in England, which apparently happens all over America is the County Fair.  I think there are even State Fairs, but I'm not sure what the difference is - can anyone tell me?

Our local County Fair always opens on Labor Day weekend and we always manage to go that first weekend.

Now these Fairs are nothing like any fair ever in England.  They are massive and while ‘fair’ in England usually means a few rides (the Waltzer, Octopus and Big Wheel to recall a few) and some sideshows (darts, goldfish and ducks on hooks come to mind) on a muddy common in the summer, in America it means a total over indulgence of everything.  As we know, they like to do everything BIGGER here, including the Fair.

From the moment you walk through the gate your senses are assaulted from all side with smells, colours, noise….. Buildings are chockablock with people selling anything from Shamwow’s and sewing machines to solar panels and shower heads.  You name it, you can probably find it for sale here.  (In our experience some good, some, well… not so good)

It's hard to describe what it actually is - is it a market or shopping experience?

Maybe it's a circus

Maybe it's a funfair as we know it

 

Oh, no thank you!

And again I say, No thank you!

Or whatever the heck this is:

What the??

But after all that, you get to the main event, the part which everyone, apparently, is here for.  It’s a non-stop party of alcohol and food.  Yes you can walk around drinking beer and cocktails (and who wouldn’t, quite honestly).  But the biggest and some say best part of the fair is the gastronomical delight of fried food.  Absolutely anything you can think of can be, and will be, deep fried.  I heard a rumour there would be deep fried Doritos this year, but I didn’t find any.  Deep fried fried foods… wow! 

Drinkies - don't mind if I do!

Start off slowly - vegetables first (ignore the cheescake)

Bacon and more bacon - I sense a theme...

If you can leave the Fair without being sick in a bin, then you are a brilliantly fantastic person, with a stomach of iron.  I'm not saying I've ever been sick in a bin, (well not at the Fair anyway) but I have gone home with my jeans undone once or twice.



Marmite - Love It (or hate it)

Marmite, as the tag line goes, you either love it or hate it.  Well, I bloody love it!!

In fact, I love it so much I have a Saturday morning ritual of a bit of a lay in, while watching Eastenders and having a few slices of Marmite on toast and a cup of tea.  Every. Blooming. Week!!  Heaven.  It’s my one morning of total Englishness.

I rely on family visiting from Blighty to supply me with my Marmite rations.  You can buy it here in the US, but it is extremely expensive and you can’t get the mahoosive jar, only the small ones.  So obviously, when I was back in England last month I found the biggest jar I could to bring back with me.   Yes – 500g of lovely, yeasty goodness.

Who wants the weenie one?  Much too small

That was all very well and good until I started to pack my suitcase to come back.  How do you fit all the clothes your brought with you, the souvenirs you're taking back, 7 Double Decker bars, 10 Curlywurlys, 5 Fudge bars, 12 penguins (not the bird), a packet of Club bars, 2 packs of choccie bickies, Chewits, two six packs of Crisps, a jar of Picallilli, various other food items which you just cannot live without - AND your massive Marmite - in your case.  Well, that was a problem and I made a terrible, terrible (in hindsight) decision to put my Marmite in my carry on luggage.  *sad face*

No sooner had I got to security at Heathrow and put my bag through the scanner thingy than the bells went off.  This huge wailing sound as my case was unceremoniously pushed to one side and I was asked to step around… Oh dear, I’m British you know, please, please don’t single me out, especially in front of strangers.  Oh the horror, oh the embarrassment.  But, that was nothing compared to what happened next.

Oh no, not content to point me out to about 1000 people, (it was probably more like 50, but felt like 1000) I was then made to undo my bag (which was pretty much packed to the gills with more food items) and I had to watch in utter despair as every single item was taken out, held up as if he was showing it to the crowd, and then put back down again.  But then he got to my Marmite.  I saw his face, and knew instantly he was a hater, not a lover.  He held the jar up with a kind of screwed up nose and then let it go, dropping it into a bin – a metal bin, no less – and I still hear that clanging sound as it hit the bottom and rolled around a bit.  He even made eye contact with me as he was doing it - the bugger!!  My heart dropped and I worried all the way back to America that someone was going to take it out of the bin and take it home!  How very dare they.
 

 

But then there's this:

Ha, so there M. airport security man, you didn't get all my Marmite goodies.  My yummy crisps were still in (bascially) one piece by the time I got home!  And you can bet I will enjoy every crumb!

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......

That's a Bit Different - USA v. UK (Part 2)

A few more eye openers from while I was back in Blighty.

Sales Tax

I love the fact that in England the price you see is the price you pay for anything.  I remember when I first got to the US I would go shopping and at the cash register, have the exact amount of change in my hand only to be surprised when the tax was added and I had to dig around in my bag for more money.  It's very inconvenient, not to mention a bit bloody annoying.  I like to see what I’m paying straight away, not have to get out the calculator to work out the tax (which tends to be different in every city). 

 

Shopping is supposed to be fun and not include maths (which is not fun - at all).

 

Air Conditioning

 

While we were in England, it just so happened that it was one of the hottest times of the year so far.  My American fiancé kept commenting that it was hot and stuffy in the house and he didn’t understand why nobody had air conditioning.  Well, it just seems a bit expensive and a waste of money to have air conditioning that you will only use maybe once or twice a year, doesn’t it?  
 

Not so in America where every house, car, shop, office, petrol station, restaurant and possibly dog kennel has air conditioning.  You just can’t get away from it.  My main complaint about this though is that it’s always set so flamin’ low, it's absolutely freezing.  I sit at my desk at work with a heater and a thick cardi to keep me warm.  The hotter is it outside, the colder it is inside.  Sometimes I think I can actually see my breath.  And as for going to a restaurant in a t-shirt, you can forget that.  Every flippin’ restaurant has the coldest of cold air and it’s just not very comfortable or easy to eat when you’re wearing a parka and mittens.        

 

This is me at work

Although having travelled on the tube a lot during the time we were there, I must say it would be nice if there was at least a little air conditioning in the trains and I am sure my daughter would agree seeing as she nearly fainted from the heat while we were on a broken down train on the circle line!

 

Tipping

 

Ahh… this is the very best thing about eating out in London.  You don’t have to tip if you don’t want to.  There is no set rule that you must and the waiter will not chase you down the street if you don’t (yes, this has happened to a friend).  To just pay and walk out without feeling guilty that you might not have left enough tip is a wonderful feeling. 

 

I’m not saying I’m a stingy tipper or that I don't tip, but it just irks me a bit when you're expected to leave a tip, no matter what kind of service you get.  My daughter works as a server (which is just a fancy name for a waitress) and I know how hard she works, but she's good at what she does.  Sometimes the waiters are just crap and don’t deserve to be tipped.  One day, I would like to leave a little note saying “Wear a hat when it’s raining!”  That’s the only kind of tip some of them deserve.  
 

Apparently, the English have been there

Shouty Newsreaders

I actually thought I was going deaf the first few days I was back in England.  While watching the news,  I noticed you really had to listen because the news readers spoke in their normal voices.   I’m not saying the ones in the US use Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck voices, but they SHOUT.  Literally, sometimes you have to turn the telly down because they are shouting so loudly.

 

I really do miss the subtlety, Britishness and professionalism of Angela Rippon!

 

Angela Rippon - First ever lady newsreader

That's a Bit Different - USA v. UK (Part 1)

While I was back in England, I realized there were a few things I had actually forgotten all about or things that I really, really like. Here’s a few:

Ice

Now I know every American tourist complains about the lack of ice in drinks and warm beer, but I had totally forgotten that when you order an alcoholic beverage in a pub, not only is it in a tiny little glass, you only get one or two ice cubes. It threw me for a minute. Then I realized that although my glass was tiny, I still had the same amount of alcohol, minus the half a glass of ice you get everywhere in America. There are two upsides to this: your drink doesn’t get watered down so fast (if at all) and you can actually drink more (*smile*). Although this will tend to cost you more, but hey.

As for going out to dinner, there was never a time when someone just dumped a huge glass of ice water in front of me without even asking. I never drink water with my meals, let alone a frosty one and it annoys me that waiters just assume I want it. What a waste. Anyway, back to my point, when you did have water with your meal, it had no ice and that was really nice (for me anyway).

No Ice Please

Serviettes (or should I say Napkins?)

I don’t think I am a messy eater, but having lived in the good ole USA for 20 years, I’m apparently rather used to the overabundance of serviettes everywhere.  You go for a meal and the waiters are continually bringing you new 'napkins,' go for a burger and you get about ten in your bag.  Even at home, I am now used to using a bit of kitchen roll while I’m eating.  (I don’t think of myself as posh enough to use serviettes – kitchen roll is perfect for the job).
 

You can only have ONE!

So when going out to eat in England, I realized you only get ONE serviette – and not a very big one at that.  You better not order anything messy, because you will regret it later when you have dirty hand prints on your clothes from wiping your hands.  (I find it’s a bit rude to use the table cloth).  Even when eating at home (my sister’s house) I found myself getting a bit of kitchen roll.  I’m not sure what’s happened to me that all of a sudden I am a sloppy eater who needs to wipe her face and hands all throughout a meal.  Nobody else seemed to have a problem.  I think I’ve become brain washed by American-eze.

Toilet Roll

Ahh, what a lovely surprise when I walked into my mum’s bathroom and saw green toilet roll!  Yes, green!  Oh hello coloured loo roll, how I have missed you.  When we went to the supermarket, I even stood in the tissue aisle for a while gazing in wonder at all the lovely colours: peach, blue, green, yellow…..I have become so used to only having boring old white.  What is that all about?  Why does America only use white toilet roll?  I Googled it (obviously) and the only definitive answer was that apparently white was more popular (oh, and apparently the dye might cause irritation or bladder infections to the overly anxious Americans)  Hmm…. okay.  Maybe I should have brought some coloured stuff home with me. 

Although, I did find out that National Toilet Paper Day is on August 26 and there’s something I never knew.

Give me some colour

 To be continued.......