It's Not a Hurricane!

I've recently been reading about hurricane Gonzalo which apparently is about to batter the United Kingdom with 70-80mph winds.  It looks like this time people have had a proper warning about what's coming, although the weather maps pretty much look like a normal British summer

This looks normal for this time of year

Which brought me to thinking about that infamous 'hurricane' of 1987.  One of the most famous bloopers ever, if you ask me.  I'm not sure Michael Fish has lived it down to this day.  "There's not a hurricane coming..."  Famous last words and all that.

                     

October 15, 1987 it was.  I saw the weather forecast that night and obviously didn't think anything about it at all.  Since when does England have hurricanes and anyway, we lived in London.  Not much can go wrong there, surely.  Off to bed we went and at some time in the night I was woken up by empty coke cans bouncing down the street.  I didn't bother to get up to see what it was, I just thought it was a bit windy and someone had left an empty can in the road.  How rude!

The next morning rolled around and I wandered into the kitchen to make a cuppa and looked out into the garden.  Well, that was a surprise, I wasn't only looking into the garden, but across the road and down the street too.  My fence was completely gone.  Neighbours were wandering around as if in a daze and I walked out my front door to see the road completely littered with broken roof tiles.  (It apparently wasn't Coke cans I had heard, but roof tiles hitting the floor).  Surprisingly, and much to my relief, not a single tile had landed on our car and how that happened I will never know.  The weirdest thing and something I remember to this day was our big, burley builder neighbour from across the road asking us if we had "lost a bunny" as he was cradling a little white fluffy bundle in his arms - bless.  I never did find out who that rabbit belonged to, or if he had kept it himself - he did seem to be quite taken with it though!

We were actually quite lucky with only having a bit of damage.  Not so, for many other people.  19 died and it was classed as the worst ever storm to hit the south east of England for 300 years. 

They used to be caravans

And poor Michael Fish?  Well, he's still going strong and still works for the Met office.  In later years, he says there was never actually a "woman" who rang the station, but it will still go down in history as a big Ooopsie!  

And there is now a "Michael effect" in weatherman circles whereby British weathermen are now inclined to predict "a worst-case scenario in order to avoid being caught out" [Wikipedia]

Brits In LA

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to see a couple of British singers right here in Los Angeles.

Sam Smith - Greek Theater

I’d never been to the Greek before and it’s quite a small, intimate, open air venue (Oooh, don't I sound like a fancy music critic…?)  Although it's an outdoor arena, considering we are in Los Angeles in September we didn't need any blankets to keep us warm.  In fact, the Margaritas were perfect.  (Oh, that would be $15 Margaritas, by the way).

$15!!!

The opening group were 'Broods' a New Zealand band.  I've never heard of them, I think they might be quite new, but they were okay.  They sang for about half an hour and then the anticipation began ..

When Sam Smith came onto the stage, the crowd erupted and quite frankly, he was bloody brilliant. He has the best voice and it literally sounds like you are listening to a CD when he sings.  

He sang almost all of his songs as well as his Whitney Houston cover, La La La and Latch. (Even though Naughty Boy and Disclosure weren't actually there, you couldn't tell).  All of them sounded exactly like you would hear on the radio.  He sang for over an hour and chatted away to the audience and he seems just so, well, sweet (for want of a better word)

I found out the next day he was actually suffering from laryngitis! You can see why this boy is going to be MASSIVE!

Lily Allen - The Palladium

I thought the Greek was small and intimate – well, it’s flippin' Wembley stadium compared to the Palladium, a standing only venue on Sunset Boulevard.  Although at $15 for a beer, you won’t be getting drunk there any time soon.  We tried, we really did, but it just wasn’t going to happen at that price!

Pretty in Pink

It was all very girlie – the stage lit up in pink and purple and lighted baby bottles everywhere.  I’m not sure if that’s because she’s had a couple of babies or if it was something more subliminal.  Most of the songs were from her new album Sheezus, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t get to hear some of the favourites – LDN (which reminds me of home), Smile and of course, the brilliant F*ck You! As soon as the first few bars of that one were heard, the crowd went wild.  There's nothing better than jumping up and down giving the 'V' sign, although since this is America it technically wasn't the 'V' sign, it was the middle finger!

Where's the baby fat?

She may have taken some time off to have those babies, but she can still belt it out - and my God, look at those abs!  

I do like to see an English band play in LA – I’ve seen the likes of Simple Minds, Mumford & Sons and Madness,  but I just missed Jake Bugg.  I always have the fantasy they will ask “Is there anyone from England here?” and I will put up my hand and say “Me, me, me..” and I will get asked up on stage…. That’s pretty much where it ends as there is absolutely no way I would get up there and be in front of all those people.  It would just be really awkwardly uncomfortable…  And that’s probably why they don’t ask.  If they did, there would just be a lot of averted eyes in the audience while people prayed “don’t pick me, don’t pick me….”  in typical English fashion.

Where's the Washing Line?

There is nothing quite like the feel of getting into bed at night and having crisp clean sheets, which have been dried on the washing line.

Yesterday I did five loads of washing (yes, five!!) and not only easy dry stuff, there was one load of towels and a load of jeans.  Of course, they are all dry and put away now because I live in California and I have a washing machine and a dryer.  It took a couple of hours, but they all got done.

Which brings me back to that first bit – doing washing in England and hanging your clothes on a washing line.  It was a bit of a chore, to say the least.  A little washing machine in the kitchen  (if you were lucky), no dryer and usually no sun!  It could take days for a washing line full of jeans to dry.  

pic: Courtesy Wikipedia (Michael Gabler)

And then there was always the chance of rain… at which time, the collective female residents of the street would gasp, usually utter a curse word, drop everything (literally) and run into the garden shouting “It’s raining, come and help me get the washing in.”  The thing is, the washing was probably still wet from when you hung it out so a little drop of rain wouldn’t make a difference anyway, but that’s not the point and it never happens that anyone says “Oh, it’s raining, lets just leave the washing hanging out.”  Nope, the reflex is to run around the garden like a banshee, tripping over your own feet and quite possibly dragging your nice whites through the mud.

If you were at work and it began to rain you heard the groans of “Oh bugger, my washing’s going to get wet!” coming from all around the office.  (And this is only in the summer)

Winter brought a whole new host of problems.  Wet weather for weeks, cold and ice.  There were many times I left my washing out overnight only to find everything stiff as a board the next morning.  You have to bring your jeans in and stand them in the corner!  The washing is then hung or draped across radiators, or in front of the fire and your house suddenly turns into a very unexotic damp and steamy sauna.  Oh the joys of English weather.

Yup - done that!

So I came to California and was really surprised nobody used washing lines.  I thought people were just lazy, actually.  All that wonderful sun and you dry your washing in a dryer? It didn’t make sense to me.

Of course, I wasn't going to be like other people, No not me, I would show them.  So I had a washing line put up in my garden (which was actually a piece of string because you can’t find washing lines anywhere).  I had brought my peg bag with me, so finding pegs wasn’t a problem. I was very proud of myself when I did my first load and carefully hung it out.  I knew it wouldn’t take long.  “Wow this is wonderful, I thought, this will dry in no time!”  

Fast forward an hour or so.  Out I go into the garden (or back yard) and feel my washing – lovely and dry.  So I begin unpegging and taking the clothes down when I noticed, or rather felt, the dust all over them.  Everything I touched left a dirty mark on the clothes.  California is so dry that the slightest bit of wind sends dust everywhere, including onto my lovely clean washing!  And as if that wasn’t bad enough, every bloody item had a yellow burn mark where it had been hung across the line.  The sun had burnt every piece and do you think I could get that out?  Oh no.  So not only did I have to wash everything again, I had to throw some of them out because that burn was never going away.  Lesson learned.

But there is an upside in all this.  Washing day is much, much quicker and I have come to love my dryer – mainly because you don’t have to iron anything - anything!  I have not used my iron for years and I’m glad its gathering dust in the cupboard.  I hated ironing with a vengeance. 

But I really, really do miss getting into those crisp, line hung, sheets.  It just doesn’t feel right to have clean sheets feel soft and fluffy.  Oh well, I think I can probably live with it.  (*smile*)

Miss those crisp sheets

Not Quite English

Last weekend, my daughter and I went on another brunch quest looking for a little bit of England in California.  This time, we tried Lucky Baldwins, a ‘British Pub & Café’ in Pasadena.  They have three locations and apparently have been there some 18 years, so it should be great, right?

First of all, we got there a bit late for breakfast and/or brunch.  It was around noon, which in theory should still be time for brunch, but whatever.  The actual menu was very patriotic, Union Jacks all over it, but that’s pretty much where it ended.  The only two items of a British nature that I could see were a bacon and egg breakfast sandwich (American bacon, Irish bacon for an extra charge) and a full English (an extra charge for crumpets instead of toast).   Oh, I could have had a cup of PG Tips too.

Very patriotic

Of course, we ordered one of each (with Irish bacon and crumpets).  Hannah had the breakfast sandwich which had a lovely runny egg and a couple of bits of bacon.  This would have been a great breakfast if you had made it at home, but in a restaurant you would expect a little bit more on the plate – even a bit of dead cabbage for garnish would have made it look a bit fancier.  But she said it was lovely, even though she thought she could have eaten another one!

That's it?

I had the full English - bacon, sausage, two eggs over easy, (I still can't figure out what I am supposed to ask for here, but over easy seemed to be okay this time), baked beans (Heinz), mushrooms, fried tomato - Mmmm, lovely jubbly.... but then there was also that potato/pepper/onion mixture that seems to be a standard in American breakfasts - FAIL! Gentlemen, this is most definitely NOT an English breakfast requirement!

What is that potato stuff??  Definitely not English!

The sausage was lovely, as were the mushrooms and beans.  The eggs were runny enough and the (tiny bit of) bacon was nice.  But then there were the crumpets.  The waiter (who was new on the job, he said), didn't know what a crumpet was, but I assured him they were on the menu and I could have them instead of toast,  Well, when I got them, they looked (and tasted) like they had been heated up in a microwave.  They were rubbery like they had just come out of the packet, no crispy bits on the bottom and not only that, I didn't get any bloomin' butter, just a little pot of lemon curd.  In all my years, I have never eaten crumpets with lemon curd (and no butter), but there's a first time for everything, as they say, and I tried.  But quite frankly, it was pretty blah.

Hmmm....a bit bland

I'm not saying I'm Egon Ronay or that I work for the Michelin Guide, but I was just a little, well, disappointed with the food.

But, I'm sure if we had got there earlier when the Premier League football was on, the place would have been bursting at the seams with all the Chelsea fans watching Frank Lampard put a goal past his old club, much to his dismay.   It probably would have felt a lot more "British."

Unfortunately, by the time we got there they were showing American Football and we were sitting at a table next to the most annoyingly loud and obnoxious person ever (yes, really loud and really obnoxious). But I'm sure he might have said the same thing had he been there for the 'real' football and sat among a load of boisterous and, some would say also obnoxious, English footie supporters.

I might be being a bit harsh, the waiter was new and we were surrounded by Yanks watching American Football.  Not exactly a definitive British experience.  We were on the patio also - maybe inside it was decorated extremely English.  I am not ruling out ever going there again, so who knows. Watch this space (as they say)..... *smile*

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.