The Cadbury Godfather

If you've been following this blog for a while, you will know that I am right Royally peeved with the Hershey ban on the import of British chocolate.  It's obvious I'm not the only one as the #boycotthersheys hashtag has taken over Twitter.  What are we going to do without our yummy Cadbury's??

Well never fear, there are a few enterprising people out there who always see an opening in the market.  So with no more ado, I would like to introduce to you to.... drum roll....

ChocolateMailbox.com

 

Chris Turner and his business partner, both from just outside Manchester, have put together a wonderful website where you can order British Chocolate to be delivered directly to your house.  They have a variety of sizes to choose from, with a selection box of 10, 20 or 30 bars.  The boxes have brilliant names such as:

• Biggie Box
• British Classics Box
• Cadbury Crazy Box
• Cadbury Collection Box
• Smooth & Creamy Box
• Special Sharing Box  (who wants to share - not me!)

There's also a category where you can "Pick & Mix" your very own selection.  The price is a very reasonable $15.50 per box, no matter what size you choose.  Shipping varies depending upon where you live and how much you buy.

Chris told me he believes the recent ban by Hersheys is totally unfair and a sorry sign of the corporate giants flexing their muscles in the name of greater profits [I think we all agree with that].  It's his view that "It's everybody's right to be able to have the freedom of choice if they want to eat British Chocolate (read "real" chocolate) and no one company should be able to dictate to us."

I voiced my concern that chocolate being shipped to hot climates, particularly like California (yes, I was thinking of myself) would be in a mailbox for an extended period of time and would result in the chocolate turning to soup before I got home.  Nope, not a problem, they've thought of that already as they offer tracked and signed postal options so you will know when it's arriving and can either be at home when it's delivered or you can pick it up from the Post Office.  I got around that problem by having my box delivered to my work address. 

While I was waiting for it to arrive I was a little fearful.  What happens if it gets stuck in some airport on the way and the heat gets to it?  What happens if the post office open it and take my chocolate?  Oh the dilemma, the nightmares.  Well, this is what it looked like when it got here:

Post Office doesn't read, apparently!

Hmm... fragile??

I carefully opened the package (okay, I frantically tore into it) to see what goodies were inside.  All my fears were unwarranted.  The chocolate was packed really well and even though the box looked like it had been kicked around Wembley Stadium for 90 minutes, every chocolate bar was undamaged.  I could hear angels singing as I saw this little lot

From the selection, it looks like I received the 'Cadbury's Collection Box," although there is a cheeky Cadbury's Creme Egg in there too - just in time for Easter, how handy!

What was most exciting for me was the Freddo as I've heard so much about them. I don't think I've ever had one.  They were introduced by Cadbury's in 1973, but were discontinued in 1979 and for some reason I don't remember them at all.  They were reissued in 1994, presumably just after I left England, so this is is a first for me.  

This is definitely a great way to get your chocolate fix and very soon, you won't even have to order every month because a subscription service called "British Chocolate Club" is in the pipeline, where you will automatically be sent chocolate every month!  Can't really argue with that, can you??

So don't just sit there with your mouth watering, click on the link to the right and start shopping.  I have some vouchers for a 20% discount on all orders.  If you would like one, please let me know by contacting me here.  Better hurry...... meanwhile, I'm going to sit back, relax and eat my Creme Egg - very.very.slowly.

*This is a sponsored post on behalf of Chocolate Mailbox.com



National Puppy Day

Apparently, today in American is National Puppy Day.  Who knew there was such a thing?  It's to encourage people to adopt from shelters and not buy from puppy mill pet stores. 

This comes in a bit handy since only three weeks ago we had a new family member arrive at our house.  This is him

Yes, he is a teeny tiny pitbull puppy.  The poor little fellow has to live with that bad pitbull reputation for the rest of his life, bless him.  But he will be protected by his big brother Charlie.  [Not sure 'protected' was the correct word here, actually, what with all the bad connotations the word pitbull conjures up with some people].

Big brother will look after him

It took a while to name him but we finally settled on Spencer.  (Pronounced with an English accent of course.... Spensahhhh).

I'm not going to get into the whole debate about pitbulls and Breed Specific Legislation (BSL), but will say they are the most lovable dogs who grow into 90 pound lapdogs and will love you forever.  If you are interested, this is a really good article by Jake Flanagin from Pacific Standard: "The Tragedy of America's Dog"

I was thinking we should have called him Marmite.... because him being a pitbull, people either love them or hate them!!!!

How could you NOT love that face?

How Rude!

I was just wandering around the world wide web the other day, as you do, and I came across this little gem in Wikipedia.

Inselaffe

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Inselaffen [plural] is a German word meaning "Island Monkeys". It is used, perhaps pejoratively but mostly light heartedly, to describe the people of England, UK. The word is generally used fondly and as part of the friendly and often humorous, competitive banter between the two countries.

The actual meaning behind it refers to the German (and other European countries) stereotypical image of the English as heavy drinking, violent, criminalistic and yobbish. These characteristics of the English are regularly witnessed by Europeans when visiting the UK, while on holiday elsewhere or at football matches, where many Europeans have been victim to the internationally infamous English hooliganism.

German people offer this behaviour as evidence to a tongue in cheek theory that evolution stalled on the island of Great Britain.

Although the phrase is used in reference to the people of the British Isles, the same stereotype mainly refers to the people of the regions Scotland, Ireland and Wales, who, it is considered, have a much more violent and aggressive nature, though still suffering the same commitment to inebriation and constant fight to avoid sobriety.

Well, bugger me, that's a bit rude, isn't it?  I've never in my life heard this word, let alone known anyone to actually use it.  And why would someone think it necessary to write a Wikipedia post about it?  Who's out there looking this stuff up?  That's just down right cheeky.

Apparently, whoever wrote of the "...friendly and often humorous, competitive banter between the two countries..." has quite obviously never been on a package holiday to Majorca, where you have to get up at 4:00 a.m. to put your towels on a sunbed so you can beat the Germans at their own game! [Yes, I did just go there...]

Too late, the German's got there first!

I'm not so sure this is actually a 'tongue in cheek' Wikipedia entry, but seeing as I am, in fact, English I am going to ignore it and reaffirm my commitment to inebriation and avoid that fight with sobriety, .... I'm going to have a drink! 

Cheers!

We're a lovely lot - don't know what they're talking about!

The Real Football Experience

It’s been a long time since I’ve had to get up at the crack of dawn to drive to a pub some 60 miles away to watch a football game.  Nowadays most of the games are on television (well at least on ATT UVerse anyway) so I all need to do is get my morning cuppa and some toast and watch in my pyjamas.  (Because I'm in California the games start at 4:00 a.m. - although it's very rare I ever see those games!  I'm usually just about awake for the 6:00 a.m. ones)

But, whilst watching the footie this past weekend there was an advert for an App so that you can find out where to watch games.  It’s called NBC Sports Matchmaker and I though I would take a look and see what it had to offer.  Apparently, according to the advert and the blurb in the app “Diehard football (soccer) fans know the only thing better than watching football is watching it surrounded by other fans.  But sometimes, finding other fans to watch with can be a challenge…”  [Yes, soccer was in brackets in their description].

That description should have been my firrst warning that this wasn’t for ‘real’ football fans… reading a bit further there is a list about who the app would be helpful for:

• Fans who are new to the game or their neighbourhood and want to know where to watch their team play [If you are new to the game, why would you have a team? – oh wait, it would probably be Man. Utd]
• Fans who are away from home and need to find where other fans are congregating [ok, that makes sense, but ‘congregating” – sounds like there will be trouble]
• Fans who want a way to organize their regular football watching meet up [Umm, wouldn’t you just meet at the pub/bar?] 

Oh and you can meet people through the app and via Facebook.  Something about this sounds pretty pathetic really.  I don't want to be walking into some pub to meet random strangers who may, or may not, possibly, support the same team as me... just so I can have a pint at 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning. Because no matter where you go or how many people are there, nothing will emulate the feeling of standing on the terraces (if there were still terraces to stand on, that is).

Years ago, when there was little or no football coverage on the telly, occasionally there would be a pay-per-view game on a Saturday morning.  At that time, everyone we knew would come over to our house and have a whip round for the price of the game.  I would then spend the morning making sausage or bacon sarnies and endless pots of tea (and trying to watch the match).  It was a lot of fun and something that I do miss, although now I don’t even have to get out of bed if I don’t want to.  

But to spend the early morning with random football novice s is just something I wouldn’t ever want to do. So no, I am not downloading this app.  Sorry NBC.

The Best of British

Isn’t it wonderful when British people do brilliant things?  We’re always so self-deprecating that it’s a wonder any of us get out there in public and actually try to be good at anything.

Take Eddie 'The Eagle' Edwards for example.  A worse ski jumper you will never find, but he became an absolute bloody hero in 1988 when he entered the winter Olympics.  As it says on Wikipedia (‘cos yes, he has a page):

“Finishing last in the 70m and 90m events, he became famous as an example of a plucky

underdog  or 'heroic failure', and of perseverance and achievement without funding that 

represents the British bulldog spirit.”

Even a book!

We might not be that good a skiing, but we seem to be brilliant at acting.  Maybe because it’s easier to hide behind a character than to have to actually be yourself.  

Which brings me to the Oscars last night.  Who didn’t have their fingers, legs, eyes and toes crossed for Eddie Redmayne to win Best Actor?  And what a great speech.  Here is it, if you missed it.

Didn’t he do well, bless him.

The film was extremely good and if you haven’t seen it, you must go.

I know three people who have been diagnosed with ALS (Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis or as it’s known in the UK Motor Neuron Disease) and unfortunately, all of them lost their battle with the disease and none of them survived more than four or five years.  It is very hard to watch someone die from the outside, while inside they are still themselves, trapped in their own non-functioning body.

To live with ALS as long a Stephen Hawking has, well it's pretty much a miracle.

I met him once.  Well, okay, I didn’t actually meet him, I was in the same room as him (which in my opinion is close enough).  We were at the Magic Castle in Los Angeles about a year ago and  we walked into one of the bars and a friend told me “Stephen Hawking’s over there” and there he was, in his chair in all his glory, with his nurse and, I presume wife.  And I was completely and utterly star struck.  Living in Los Angeles, where celebrities are a penny a dozen, it seemed weird that a scientist, of all people, would have me speechless.  

But that’s what happened and quite frankly, I’ve never been allowed to live it down.  My name is Sharon and I’m a Geek! (apparently)

Angry British

On a recent shopping trip I had a bit of a melt down, or a paddy, if you like.  Wandering around Fresh & Easy I got to the “Foreign” section and noticed just how small the English section had become. When I first started shopping there, there were eight shelves of English foods, yes 8!  It looked like this…

Amazeballs!!

It probably doesn't seem much to anyone who has a Tesco around the corner from their house, but in the jolly old USofA, this is amazing!  Well until now, that is.  Now, it’s been reduced to just TWO shelves of baked beans, marmalade, Heinz soup, Robinsons and gravy granules - the bottom two shelves no less.  Oh how I wished I hadn’t been so complacent in thinking it would be there forever.  If I’d have known it was going to disappear, my cupboards would look like Tescos with shelves and shelves of food I would never be able to eat because I had so much.  Well, so much for that!!  How I miss you, Bird's Custard, Ribena and HP Sauce!

And now, with bloody Hersheys taking our Cadbury’s chocolate off the shelves, my pickings are going to be getting even slimmer.

Which is where my paddy came in.  Apart from the disappointment from my lack of choice in the British food section, there it was, that ghastly Hershey chocolate gloating at me from the shelves. I could see it grinning down as if to say “Buy me, I dare you!”   So I went into a wobbly.  I will admit, a few selective swear words were uttered – because obviously it wouldn’t be a real British rant if there was no swearing.  “*^&% You Hershey” may have possibly been said a few times too!  

The Mr. turned to me and said “Do you know that when you’re angry, your English accent gets really strong?  I can hardly understand you”  He certainly knows how to calm me down!  Nothing makes me happier than to be told my accent is still there!

About that time, I walked down the aisle where the sweets are and holy-moley, all the English chocolate (at least everything they have left) was half price.  So what's better to cheer you up than seeing 'real' Yorkie bars for only 99c and buying the whole lot!  

.

Nope, not a York Peppermint Patty

I know I've posted this link before, but if you haven't signed the petition yet, here it is again:

Protest Hershey Lawsuit to Ban Cadbury's Chocolate

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"