Veterans Day/Remembrance Day

Today at work, at the eleventh hour on the eleventh day of the eleventh month, the radio announced two minutes of silence. I work for a busy recruitment agency where the phones are always ringing, people are always talking, the printer is always going and it's never, ever quiet.

I have never lost a loved one to the spoils of war, I have never known the terror of battle. But in those two silent minutes in my office, watching my colleagues' faces sombre and feeling the whole country come to a standstill, I couldn't help but feel emotional. What a great deal we owe to those who have served these two great countries I love and call home.

In America, it's Veterans Day, and here in Great Britain, it's Remembrance Day. Back home, we fly our flags proudly outside our homes, offices and shopping areas. Here in Great Britain, we wear red poppies pinned to our shirts or coats and present poppy wreaths at various war memorials.

Poppies hold special significance on Remembrance Day due to a famous poem written by a Canadian Doctor, Lt Col John McCrae, who was inspired by the poppies that grew on the battlefields in France. (you can find out more about this at this website)

In Flanders' fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders' fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe;
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high,
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders' Fields.

Last year marked 100 years since the start of WWI and London showcased something amazing to commemorate this. Two artists made 888,246 porcelain poppies - 1 poppy for each British military fatality during the war - and covered the lawns of The Tower of London with them. It was all over the media and people could even buy a poppy to keep after the exhibit was taken down. London is always crazy busy, but I couldn't believe the crowds that gathered to see the poppies as they gradually went up from July through to November, when they gradually were taken down. We visited London a few times during this period, and we drove past the tower on more than one occasion. It was quite the sight to see and in my opinion, a truly moving and harrowing dedication. 888,246 lives given in just this one nation. Individuals with interests, hobbies, families and fears, just like any one of us. And yet when you put them all together like this, it simply paints a picture of blood and loss.

(images courtesy of google image search)

My grandparents were all WWII era adults. They grew up in the depression and saw what war really did to a country, and three of them served. My paternal grandfather served in the navy on ships, and I don't know a great deal about his time in the service, but my dad has told me that they never ate lamb in his house growing up, because Grandpa Bob had more than his fill of mutton on the ships!

My maternal grandmother was a first lieutenant nurse in the army, where she met my maternal grandfather. Grandpa was a Lieutenant Colonel and worked within army intelligence throughout an impressive military career. He served in WWII, the Korean War and had involvement with Vietnam. He was very high ranking and my mom has childhood memories of growing up on army bases all over the country, as well as Okinawa, where officer's houses normally said their rank and last name. Because Grandpa was involved in such secret business, the sign on their house only said "Mr. Miller" and didn't mention rank at all. My mom has also mentioned that she knew growing up that Grandpa had to carry cyanide tablets with him, just in case he was ever captured... He was awarded the Army Commendation Medal for Meritorious Service from 1963-65 and he was principally responsible for the counter-intelligence training of teams deployed in South East Asia. (shout out to my cousin Jen for all the info!)

Whether or not you know or love someone who is serving or has served, please take a moment today to appreciate what they've done.

Lest we forget. xo

A History Lesson: Bonfire Night, or Guy Fawkes Night

If you're like me, you love any opportunity to learn about the customs, traditions, and holidays of another culture. Now, American and English cultures may not hold as many differences as other cultures - we have the same language (nearly), most of the same Hollywood entertainment, most of the same music and similar clothing styles, but there are still a lot of major differences. I won't get into these differences today, but I do want to talk about a British Holiday that you're probably not too familiar with.

Bonfire Night, also called Guy Fawkes Night, is one of the smaller British Holidays. It is celebrated on different scales - small backyard gatherings all the way up to large organised events which take place at castles, village greens, or county showgrounds. Bonfire Night recognises the night that Guy Fawkes and his group of political activists attempted to blow up Parliament with barrels of gunpowder back in 1605.

You may be thinking of the popular movie V: For Vendetta. I did see this movie, but I don't remember anything apart from Natalie Portman shaving her head. But if I remember correctly, it wasn't about the events of 1605, and instead recreated a similar situation in the not-so-distant future. It was good for one thing though, because you're probably aware of this poem, which is a nursery rhyme about the activities of Guy Fawkes on November 5th, 1605.

Remember, remember!
    The fifth of November,
    The Gunpowder treason and plot;
    I know of no reason
    Why the Gunpowder treason
    Should ever be forgot!
    

Guy Fawkes and his companions
    Did the scheme contrive,
    To blow the King and Parliament
    All up alive.
   

 Threescore barrels, laid below,
    To prove old England's overthrow.
    But, by God's providence, him they catch,
    With a dark lantern, lighting a match!
 

   A stick and a stake
    For King James's sake!
    If you won't give me one,
    I'll take two,
    The better for me,
    And the worse for you.
   

 A rope, a rope, to hang the Pope,
    A penn'orth of cheese to choke him,
    A pint of beer to wash it down,
    And a jolly good fire to burn him.
   

 Holloa, boys! holloa, boys! make the bells ring!
    Holloa, boys! holloa boys! God save the King!
    Hip, hip, hooor-r-r-ray!

There are various versions of the poem, so feel free to do some research on this website, (where I've found information to embellish the bits I already know of the story ) if you're interested. But if you just want the gist, I'll give you an overview. After the death of protestant Queen Elizabeth I, English Catholics who still remained even after the Reformation of Elizabeth's father, Henry VIII, were hoping that her successor and the new King, James I, would be more tolerant of the Catholic religion. It turned out that he wasn't, and an opposition decided that violent action was necessary. They came up with their plot to blow up Parliament by placing dozens of barrels of gun powder in the cellar so that they would kill the King, hopefully his heir, and other important members of the government. They hoped to then restore a Catholic monarchy.

But there's always a snitch. A member of this group wrote a letter to his friend, a member of Parliament, warning him to stay away from the famous building on this night. 

(courtesy of google images)

The plan was foiled as a result of this letter, and on the designated night, Guy Fawkes was found in the basement surrounded by 36 barrels of gun powder. As the news spread across the country on that very night, bonfires were lit to celebrate the safety of the King. Over the next few months, Fawkes was interrogated, tortured, and eventually hung for his crimes. 

Over 400 years later, the night is still recognised, and even still, every time Parliament and the Queen meet, guards traditionally search the cellar of the building. People observe the holiday with fireworks and a giant bonfire, burning an effigy of Guy Fawkes.

(image courtesy of http://www.hercampus.com)

 We normally attend Bonfire Night celebrations, and in past years we have gone to our old local village green (before we moved when we bought the new house) to watch fireworks and the bonfire. Another year we went to a larger organised event at a local family-day-out venue type place with some friends. There are usually some carnival rides and games if you go to large events, but the more local ones typically just have a bar for the grown ups, a couple games for the kids, and a booth selling warm sugar donuts for everyone, fried right before your eyes. Since I moved here, warm, freshly made sugar donuts have become synonymous with this time of year for me.

This year we didn't make any Bonfire Night plans, which is just as well, considering the awful wet weather. Oh, England.

Hope you learned something. xo

England VS America: Autumn

I haven't done a post like this for several years, but when I first moved to England, you guys loved when I did the comparison entries, such as "Out of the Mouths of Brits, Volumes I and II." When I wrote these posts, I had only been a resident of England for mere weeks. Now, it's been over four years, so I've had a lot of time to make more interesting observations. In some ways, I hands down prefer the way the English do things, and other things are *facepalm* worthy and make me miss home more than I can express.

Today, I want to talk about Autumn. I have so many wonderful memories growing up in California and Arizona surrounding this time of year. Autumn isn't a hugely recognizable season in the desert, what with the lack of trees and all, but it's still identifiable. And in Southern California, it's a bit more obvious. Blood red leaves, bright orange with crimson tips. Chilly, foggy mornings with that smokey, homey scent that hangs in the air and cool, clear afternoons. The buzz of life and work starts to slow down, and social gatherings multiply. I have pictures of myself as a tiny Aindrea sitting on pumpkins at the pumpkin patch seeking out that perfect jack-o-lantern. I have vivid memories of hay rides, pumpkin carving, trick-or-treating, fall festivals and my mom's autumn decorations. I remember her terracotta pumpkins, the wooden cutout of pilgrims, the fake leaves in various shades of orange, and the paper turkey that came out at Thanksgiving. Oh, Thanksgiving. The amazing food, the parades, the football, and the family. All of these things have added up to make me what I am - a girl who simply lives for Autumn.

So how much luckier could a girl like me get, moving to England; a country with breathtaking Autumns? It actually gets COLD here, and I get to wear things like scarves and boots and leather jackets. The thousands of trees are covered in brilliant colored leaves that start to turn as early as August, and a few even manage to stay on the trees into early December. Autumn here is slow, drawn out and palpable, giving you time to really take it in and feel the transition of time. Another year coming to a brilliant end.

"Autumn is the final trick in nature's year-long magic show: 

It masks death with a spectacular display of beauty."

-Keith Hansen

But the sad truth of it? English people don't give a crap about this magical time of year. I'll be damned if I can find a single Autumn decoration, and the only reason I'm able to decorate at all is due to my mom sending me boxes of decorations most years. Halloween is only just starting to gain momentum here. So many people I know say that they find it odd, allowing their children to march up to complete strangers' houses and demand candy simply because they threw on a mask. I can't comprehend this, because I grew up with it. Everyone DID Halloween. I've witnessed five Halloweens here, and Saturday was the first time I actually saw a bonafide Trick-or-Treater. Halloween parties are becoming much more popular and this year, there were even a couple pumpkin patches springing up around the countryside. I support this like a fanatic - it's about time these people take Halloween seriously. The other day at work, I complained that the pumpkins in the grocery stores were all beat up and scraped, misshapen and obviously thrown unceremoniously into the back of a truck. One of my colleagues chuckled at me and said "this really bothers you doesn't it?" I didn't hesitate for a second before answering, "Yes! You've got to take pride in your pumpkins!"

And, let's face it, Thanksgiving will never be a thing here. For the last five Thanksgivings, it's just been another Thursday for me. I get up, go to work, and sit at my desk, turkeyless. At my lunch break I check my phone and all my loved ones stateside are posting pictures of pies baking, tables set with cornucopia centerpieces, and family photos. I go home after work and make a normal dinner, plop down in front of normal, everyday TV and let myself feel glum. Stupid England.
However, on the weekend immediately after Thanksgiving, we have a little ritual. I either invite friends/family around and throw my own little Thanksgiving, or at least make sure I make myself and Mick a nice turkey breast, stuffing, mashed potatoes and some pie. Then I take down all my autumn decorations, and put up the tree and all my Christmas nik-naks. After that, Mick and I sit down in front of the TV with another helping of pie, and watch "Jingle All the Way."

In so many ways, I mourn the loss of my favourite family traditions, but at the same time, I get to make new ones with my husband, and every year I look forward to the taking down of autumn decor and transitioning into Christmas, and of course, watching his favourite Christmas film.

This year, however, I get the best of both. For the first time since I left home, I'm flying back for Thanksgiving, and I'm going solo. REAL Thanksgiving food with my friends and family, and even some bonus sunshine, because I definitely won't be seeing much of that in England for the next 5 months or so. In early December I'll fly back to my husband and my pug, and together we can play our parts in our little tradition.

Can't hardly wait. xo

A Revival

I haven't been here since August. That's a very long time, and life has shown us several big changes since then.
I think part of me was resigned to the fact that I would give up this blog. Life was busy (as it always is) and I didn't have the time or inspiration to continue to make this space a beautiful one. But I must make a confession - I have been a downright nasty person to be around as of late. My poor, dear, sweet husband has caught the brunt of it and most of the time I didn't even realise how horrible I was being until I saw the hurt in his eyes after an argument settled, or until I heard the anger in his voice.
The only thing I know is that when I am stressed and frazzled, I become un-fun and snappy. I become a lot like a teenager who doesn't like to hear any criticism, but especially the word "no."
I need a therapy, of sorts, to keep myself happy. Expressing goes a long way. I remember back in high school, I used to dump my stresses during my least favourite (and weakest) subject- math. It would have done me a lot more good, academically, to sit and pay attention, but it did more for my state of mind to get out some notebook paper and just write. I wrote poems, short stories, even took a few cracks at novels. Nothing ever came of it and sadly, I've lost most of those poems and stories, but it felt good. Another release I discovered around the same time was photography. I found that, after a teenage argument with my mother, a trip to the desert with my little digital camera did me a lot of good. A few years later, I took a photography course at the community college and invested in a good little starter digital SLR. I would lose myself behind the lense, become engrossed in finding the perfect shutter and f-stop combination, and find delight in tweaking the focus just right. Whatever worries plagued my mind could be easily forgotten. In a world where I so often feel like I have no control, getting behind the viewfinder and manipulating the settings of a camera, taking a world that, to me, in that moment, feels ugly, and changing it into something beautiful with this little machine makes me feel ok and reminds me that there is always beauty to be find.

And so, I resolve to write here regularly again, and to take more pictures. I got my camera out a few weeks ago and it sits on the piano (no, we don't play [though Mick can dabble], but it sure is a great place to set all our crap).

So, what has happened since August? Sheesh. A lot. Let me break it down by month for you.

September:
We celebrated our one year anniversary in London. Mick's mom and dad bought us tickets to see "We Will Rock You," a West End musical based on the music of Queen. Oh, did we love it. I quickly bought all of Queen's greatest hits that I was missing. A few days later I started a new job for a recruitment company that specialises in accountancy and fiance. I do a lot of administrative type work, and it's a really great place to work. The people are great and I'm always kept on my toes. A few days later Mick caught up with me by turning 26. Hah.

November:
I had a nasty cold that stopped me dead in my tracks. Mom sent me some Thanksgiving decorations to get me out of an autumn/germy funk. We celebrated a big of a Celtic Thanksgiving, plus a South African. The food was good and I enjoyed being in the kitchen all day.

December:
The countdown to my biggest wish was dwindling down - on December 15th we hopped on a plane and got to visit home for the first time since I moved here. We spent two weeks with my family, time split between Arizona and Southern California. I caught up with my parents and siblings, loved up on my niece and nephew, and shared good laughs with good friends whom I've missed loads. The time went too fast, and with a confusing mixture of sadness and joy, we came back to England.

February:
Another move... Mick's dad kindly asked us if we'd like to rent his house since he is remarrying and moving in with his lucky lady. We were ecstatic for the opportunity to live in the beautiful village in a lovely house with a lot more space and room to grow.

March:
I passed my driving test the first time (quite an accomplishment in England, the driving tests are brutal here!) and got a new car, a lovely little Skoda which may or may not take a lot of work...

That pretty much brings you up to date. There have been other things in between, which I'll share in photos.

Continuing developing my cooking skills

Spending as much time as possible with this guy

A fair amount of snow this winter (that's our new house from the garden!)

And a lot of ice...

And just enough down-time to keep me going

I'll be back soon, I promise. I've missed this place.

xo

London Getaway

Yesterday afternoon Mick and I returned from our mini trip to London. We went up early on Monday and stayed the night. We walked and walked (as one does when in London) and finished up our Christmas shopping, saw some of our favourites sights again, and enjoyed good food. In the evening we hailed a cab and went past Buckingham Palace and Horse Guard Parade and Trafalgar Square and got dropped off in front of the Garrick Theatre. Chicago did not disappoint. The music was great ad America Fererra was fantastic. Even Mick didn't hate it too much.
After the show we visited the M&Ms store in Leicester Square, then caught another can back to the hotel, where we slept the sleep of people who walked miles in a cold and rainy city. I'm the morning we had breakfast at a pub near the hotel, then we walked past Marble Arch over to Hyde Park for the winter wonderland carnival. We drank mulled wine, are roasted chestnuts, and Mick even won me a little stuffed pig shooting Christmas ornaments. After that it was back to the hotel to grab our things and get a cab to the train station. Neither of us wanted to leave - it was wonderful to have some us time, and I for one came home feeling very full of love.
I just love London in the winter, especially at Christmastime.
Have some pictures :)

Like a Duck to Water

I started my job last night. Everything went really well! Started out doing the obligatory paperwork and safety run throughs- moral of the story, "don't be an idiot, use common sense." I can handle that. I was shown how to use the till by the manager. Took a few minutes to figure out but she said I was quick with it. I had to use a similar computer thingy when I worked at Outback. I had a really good time, all the other bar staff was really nice. There were lots of friendly customers who seemed to love the fact that I'm American and wanted to know all about how I got here, what my husband did, and our story in general. I can be a bit of a ham at times, so I did quite enjoy being a bit of a novelty. Is that bad?
I had so much fun that I was a little bit disappointed when my shift ended and went out to meet Mick waiting for me in the parking lot. My legs and feet were tired, but I was having a good time! Some of the other girls made comments about how I didn't seem as scared as they did their first night, or that I was taking to it "like a duck to water." It feels good to be confident about a job on the first day. My last new job was teaching, and there is nothing in the world more terrifying than meeting 150+ kids in one day and being handed the responsibility for their education for a year. This was a bit intimidating, just because I was put behind the bar with people I didn't know, asking what I could get for customers and struggling to understand their accents and nicknames for drinks. I caught on quick that a "Boom" is the colloquial for Oranjeboom, and Guinness and Black is Guinness with blackcurrant syrup. An Asahi with a top just means a splash of sprite on top of the pint. Though England is a small country, just about every town has it's own accent, I'm learning. Figuring out how to understand all of them is a bit of a task! But for the most part I was able to make it seem like I just couldn't hear people in the loud pub. Hehe.

Everything I know about Pubs, I learned from The Nag's Head- the pub featured in the British comedy, Only Fools and Horses. The Nag's Head was the hub of the community, where lovable (apart from Boyce) characters gathered after a day of hard work to visit with friends and have a breather.

(Dave - er, Rodney, Trigger (the love of my life!) and Del Boy 'avin a pint at the Nag's 'ead)

 

I was happy to learn that this is a pretty accurate portrayal of a pub. Though it was my first night, I could pick out the regulars- the jovial, friendly ones who made smalltalk and had amusing conversations with the rest of the bar staff; the ones who asked when I was working next, because they were sure to be here; the lovely couple who were eager to hear my story and were pleased to learn that we only lived up the street from one another, then made my heart melt a bit when they said they always end up best friends with the bar staff. I felt like I found my Nag's Head- a place of my own in this country where I feel like so little is my own. Bit by bit, I'm handed the bricks to build my life here, and it feels good to get some foundations set.

Working Girl

Good news! I got myself a job :D Sunday midday I got a call from the local pub, where I dropped off my resume earlier in the week. The manager asked if she could interview me. I went yesterday, and felt that it went really well. Then this afternoon she called back to offer me a full time position as bar staff. It's 35 hours a week, a mixture of nights, days, weekdays and weekends. It's close- just a few minute walk. The pay is respectable, plus I'll get 5 weeks of vacation a year. Yes, Europe is way more laid back about giving employees time off. Americans get the shaft. Annnyways, I've spent a good amount of time working in restaurants, which I always enjoyed, so I'm really pleased! It's also such a relief to find full time work so quickly- not going to lie, I was pretty worried.
I think it's pretty fun that I've moved away to England and have managed to land a very English job- pulling pints and wiping down the bar, serving food, etc. I'm really looking forward to it. I start this Thursday. Wish me luck!

I'm so happy that everything about moving here has gone so smoothly. Both visas and the national insurance number were all obtained easily and with no hassle. And now a job so quickly. I'm so thankful that things are settling into place. God is good! I hope this trend continues!

Lurking Outside my Bedroom Window

Last night, I crawled into my warm, comfy bed and grabbed my book off the nightstand. Mick was getting ready for bed in the bathroom. The bedroom window right over the bed was open. I sat there with my book, hoping it would eventually get interesting. And then I heard a noise. At first I thought it was a cat. And then again. It sounded slightly more human. Like a growling shriek, something off of one of those Animal X-File type shows. And again. Okay, it definitely wasn't human. I kept listening, and finally jumped out of bed, banged on the bathroom door and drug Mick by the arm to the bedroom, still with a ring of toothpaste around his mouth. "You have to hear this!"
We sat and waited for a moment, but it didn't happen again. He pointed to his mouth and mumbled in that way you do when your mouth is full and said "I fill have foofpaste in my mouf." I dismissed him, and as soon as the bathroom door shut behind him, I heard the sound again, but that was the last time I heard it.
I'm not going to lie, I was a little bit creeped out. I wondered if it could have been a screech owl. I've heard of them, but have never actually heard the sounds they make. I found a video of a screech owl on YouTube, and that definitely wasn’t it. However, I now know what sounds they used for that creepy little dinosaur in Jurassic Park- the one with the frills around its neck that spits oil and kills the fat guy. Yep, screech owl sounds. Not for that nasty scream it does, but for the cooing sounds.
For some reason, I couldn’t get La Chupacabra out of my head. Growing up in the Southwest, La Chupacabra is something you hear about frequently. It’s a big bit of Mexican folklore. I made a post on facebook about how I thought I was hearing La Chupacabra out my bedroom window. My cousin back in America asked me if it couldn’t be some sort of English monster. Well, interesting. I don’t know of any British monsters. I know Scotland has Nessie, but there’s no water around us here. I know the Irish have Banshees, and, actually, it did feel a bit Banshee-ish, but again, we’re in the Southeast of England, not Ireland.
I turned to Google. And I came up with the two following possibilities. Click on the orangey-brown links to learn more.

(Yes, this info was taken from Wikipedia, but don't get on your high horse about my sources. I'm researching monsters, okay?)

Owlman of Mawnan

Or, this one. I'll admit it's pretty far fetched, even for a monster sighting.... but the sounds were right.

Pterodactyls in England (hey! We all know that the Pterodactyls escaped the island at the end of Jurassic Park 3; it could happen, people!)

Well, what do you think? I can honestly say I've never heard sounds like this before. What was it?

****Crazy disclaimer: No, I don't really think there was a monster outside my bedroom window (famous last words?). I'm sure it was an animal in distress (I've heard rabbits make weird noises) or even a car making a strange noise. This was just a fun and silly post inspired by my cousin's encouragement to investigate English monsters.****

Why this fits

Things I love about being here:
-Waking up next to my husband and not having to worry who is going to fly where next, how we'll afford it, or if I can handle the distance.
-Sleeping with the window open and feeling the cool air flutter through the curtains and hit my face. I don't think I ever slept with the window open in Arizona. Even once.
-Being within a couple hours of one of the most famous and historic cities in the world. London is an amazing place, and so so so many interesting and significant things took place there. We haven't gone up there in a while, but I'm hoping we'll be going soon. And even when we don't go there often, almost every little town, city or village here has something worth seeing- like the other day when we were in Chichester and went to the cathedral.
-Public transportation. I hate having to use it, because bus drivers are stupid and don't wait until you're in your seat to start driving again, and so you're launched forwards. I can't tell you how many times I've nearly taken out an old lady with my handbag because I go flyyyying. But, it is nice to have it since we currently don't drive. Soon though!
-Real autumn. There are ACTUAL trees here, which means they change color.
-High Streets. High Streets are pretty cool because they're generally right in the center of town and you get all the mall type stores, right in the same area, within walking distance. Kind of like a Main Street, but with useful stores.
-Fish & Chips. Like, real ones that aren't from Jack in the Box and don't come with tartar sauce because salt and vinegar is how it's done, son!
-Reasonable phone prices. I'm getting the new iPhone 4S tomorrow and it's only going to cost me £35 a month. In America the iPhone 3GS cost me $108 a month. Even when you allow for currency conversion, I'm saving, like, at least $30.
-National Healthcare. I know this is a hot topic everywhere, but at the end of the day, I like knowing that even though I don't have a job or private insurance, if something happens to me, I'll at least get basic care and treatment and I won't be paying for it for the rest of my life.

That's all I got for now. That's not all I love about it here, but all I can think of at the moment.

Things I Miss...

Before I left America I made a list about the things I would miss about living in the Southwest. While some of these things have stayed the same, a lot of it has changed. I don't think you know how you're really going to feel about something before it happens, no matter how much preparation time you may have. I had time to think about this and prepare for it ( a little bit of time). I thought a lot about how hard it would be, yet how exciting. I tried to anticipate the things that would be difficult for me so that when the events occurred, I would be able to sit back and think "hey, it's okay, you knew this was coming." And for the most part, I have been able to do this without too much difficulty. However, there have been some things that I really miss that sort of surprised me.

-Commercialization. As silly as that sounds, it's true. I really miss how much we hyped everything up in America. Halloween, for instance. I loved how ABC family played family Halloween movies all through October, and how lots of people decorated with luminaries (I think that's what they're called?), scarecrows, pumpkins, witches, and all that stuff. It's just not that big of a deal here. They do have candy and costumes and a few decorative items in super markets and stuff like that, but it's just not the same.

-Being able to drive. Now, that's not a cultural difference. It's just that Mick is still working on getting his driver's license, and I can't afford to drive here because insurance is really ridiculously disgustingly expensive. Once I get a job I will take some lessons just so I can get used to driving on the other side of the road, and the other side of the car, and with the shifter on my left side. And round-abouts and narrow roads. All of that. But for the time being, if we can't get somewhere without walking, taking the bus, or getting a lift, we just don't do it. It definitely limits our activities, so I'm looking forward to Mick being done with all his lessons and tests and stuff.

-Family. I knew this one was going to be the hardest. Apart from the day to day stuff that I miss (having lunch with mom, catching a movie with dad, going to Stone Brewery with my brother and his wife, going shopping with my sister, or playing boardgames with my brother in law and niece) there are also the big things. Being so far away meant that the only family that could make it to my wedding were my parents. My sister qualified for a huge riding competition in Mexico this month and because we're so far away, Mick and I won't be able to make it and the rest of the family is going. That's been a bummer- I'm really proud of my sister and wish so much that I could be there to root for her. This family stuff has been the hardest thing. Most days it's totally fine, I talk to my mom on skype a few times a week and we facebook chat often, I talk to my dad once a week and to my brother and sister when I can. But there have been those moments that hit me like a train and I realize- "oh wow. this is permanent." And I'm left with this really scared and sad feeling. But it always goes away.

-Having a job. Now, of course everybody wishes they could just get money and not have a job. But I do miss working. I miss getting up and having somewhere to be, getting a paycheck and interacting with colleagues. Some days I even miss my students. But I'm hoping my visa will go through soon and then I'll be able to work and get going there.

-Yuma. Now, it's not so much Yuma itself that I miss. I just miss certain things about it. The sunsets, my parents' house. Kneaders and Buffalo Wild Wings. Going to visit Outback where I worked for so long. Target! Oh man, I miss Target so much! And Barnes & Nobles, too! Juliana's Cafe. How American Starbucks do Pumpkin Spice lattes. I've checked at one Starbucks around here and there was no Pumpkin Spice Latte :( I know these things aren't all unique to Yuma, but it all made up the whole. Oh and sushi! As far as I can tell sushi isn't that big of a deal here and I miss it so much!

-Friends. This one hasn't been quite as hard as family, but it's still rough. I do get lonely here, but I know once I get a job I'll make some friends, though they'll never replace the ones back home. Like Tabatha, Brittany, Celeste. The ones who've been through it all with me. I hope they can all come visit me soon. Because I miss them loads.


And as far as the picture goes... that's what they say, isn't it? "Home is where the heart is." I can't predict the future, but I have a feeling that Arizona/California will always be home. And because such a big part of my life was there, and so many people I love are still there, part of my heart will always be there. But England is starting to feel a bit like home, as well. And as more things fill my heart here- friends, a house, children- it will become home, too. And at the end of the day, that's two homes. Two sets of friends, two families, two places I love. How much luckier can a girl get?

Lunch

Well, now all we can do is cross our fingers and hold our breath. Today, Mick and I went into Chichester to have passport photos taken and to send off my application for the marriage visa. I'm so tired of visa stuff already. I hope they approve it without any further inquiries. It's nerve wracking to go through this stuff- though the first visa was the one I had a really hard time with. I didn't even know if I'd be getting married until they approved it. But, like I said, held breath, crossed fingers and maybe some lit candles from you guys. And now we wait.

We spent the majority of the day wandering around Chichester, just the hubbind and myself. After we left the post office we stopped and got sandwiches and drinks from a drug store and sat down on a bench to people and architecture watch. This was the view we had while eating our simple sammiches:

That's one of the things I love so much about being in England. I get sit on a bench and eat a tuna and cucumber sandwich and take in the beauty of a 900 year old cathedral*. I looked at the thousands and thousands of bricks and thought about the people who laid them, what they must have been like and what techniques they used back in the 1100s. I thought about all the weddings and funerals and prayers that must have been said in this beautiful place. After we finished up our lunch, Mick and I wandered through the cloisters and past the St. Voldemort Statue (okay, it's really a statue of St. Richard, but it totally looks like Voldemort. With a nose). We lit a candle and I said a little prayer for a happy and healthy marriage.

And then we went on our way, and as we continued through Chichester, I swear I could hear the clippity-clop of ancient horses winding their way through the cobbled city.


Where did you eat your lunch today?




*To learn more about Chichester Cathedral, visit their website.

Autunm in England

Hello everyone! Now that we're back home in Bognor and not running around planning wedding things or showing my parents around, things have calmed down. This means I have time to blog regularly again-- which I hope will please all of you.

This past weekend was incredibly warm. Mick said when he left the house to come to the wedding ceremony, the temperature was 26C (79F). Saturday was nearly as warm, but then it rained most of Sunday and all of Monday. We returned to Bognor Tuesday night, and yesterday we woke up to a chilly, windy day. It's always a bit cooler here in Bognor than it is in the area of Kent we frequent, but that's mostly because we're right on the beach. However, the weather changed so quickly.  I took the bus into Chichester yesterday because I needed some passport photos taken in order to get my new passport with my new last name. I waited under the bus shelter and huddled against the chilly wind. After I had the pictures done, I waited for my mother-in-law outside her office to catch a ride home when she finished work. The sky was pearly grey in most places, with some darker, more ominous patches scattered about. I can't help but think that autumn must be here early this year. Apparently it's unusual for it to be quite so cool this time of year, so it may get warm again before autumn settles in for good. But autumn has always been my very favorite season- I love the colors and decorations, the spicy smells, and the hearty food. Not to mention Thanksgiving. Now, they don't do Thanksgiving here, but because I will want to do Thanksgiving when Mick and I have children (they should know both sides of their heritage), I figure I'll start practicing this year.

Anyway- having lived in the desert for the last decade and a half, I haven't gotten to see much to do with autumn. Growing up in Southern California surrounded by sycamores, we had beautiful colors. The leaves would turn dark red, fade to bright yellow, and finally fall, defeated and brown. I spent one weekend in October in Boston a few years ago, and was completely in love with those colors. I've also never had any reason or opportunity to buy warm woolen sweaters. Yesterday I bought my first gorgeous, wooly brown sweater. Adore it with me, yes?

Gorgeous, yes?

I just love toggles!

So! Autumn- the one season I haven't yet experienced in England... what will that be like? I decided to google some images of England in autumn and see what I should expect. I was NOT disappointed!

Autumn colors in New Forest. I've been once, but it was summer and very green. Image from dailymail.co.uk

 

Leafy street in London. Image from brooklynnomad.com

The Cotswalds in Autumn. Image from tourblaze.com

Autumn colors in New England, huh? Puh! Who needs New England? I've got Old England!
And while I know, for my Arizona family and friends, there's still a long way to go before autumn reaches you.... all I can say is come visit me if you want some nice weather :)

In other news, I've rediscovered my love of reading, thanks to Mick giving me a Kindle for my birthday a couple weeks back! I just finished reading Pride & Prejudice last night and have started Northanger Abbey.  I'm on a bit of an Austen kick. I've missed reading and am happy to be doing so once again.

Time to go work out. I'm back on that wagon again, for good this time!

A Very Cupcake-y Post

Wow, I didn't mean to slack on writing in here! Sorry for the absence, but things have been pretty busy in England. Mick had his stag weekend in London all day Saturday and stayed the night with his best man and some other friends. I took the train up to meet him (all by myself!) Sunday midday. He and his friend were in the middle of gorging on a giant fry up breakfast. We met up with his friend Gus, as well, and saw The Inbetweeners at a cinema in Piccadilly Circus. The Inbetweeners is a very popular sitcom in Britain. It just finished its last season and so they made a movie. We had a bit of stroll around the City- through St. James' Park and past Buckingham Palace down to Victoria Station. We caught an evening train home. It was a really nice day.
Today we woke up early and headed into Chichester because I had a dentist appointment, then we came back home. I crashed out and had a nap on the couch before heading back into Chichester for my final dress fitting which didn't really happen because the friggen seamstress who picked the dress up from the shop and brought it back a few days later DIDN'T ACTUALLY DO THE ALTERATIONS. I felt bad for the girls in the shop because it wasn't their fault and they were falling all over themselves apologizing. They had no idea she hadn't done the alterations. And Natalie (the girl Mick's mum and I got locked in the shop with. Remember?) had a nice little surprise for me. She remembered me mentioning when we booked these fittings back in July that this particular one was the day before my birthday.
"Tomorrow's your birthday right?" And she disappeared into the back room. "We wanted to get you something..." And she reappeared with a darling little cupcake wrapped in a tiny paper basket from a bakery down the street. I was ridiculously touched and gave both the girls in the shop a hug. "I guess, given the situation, it's a good thing we had a cupcake to soften the blow!"

I left the shop and called Mick's mum (who was leaving work early to meet me) then saw her walking towards me. I told her the news and that I was going back Thursday for my actual fitting. She saw my cupcake and decided we should go to the bakery where Natalie got it and have a snack. We each had a cupcake and picked out a chocolate croissant to bring home for Mick (one of his very favorite things in the world).



While I was walking from the bus stop to the dress shop before any of this had happened, I couldn't help but smile. The sky was a bit cloudy and I had time to kill, so I got a drink from a cafe and wandered around a few shops, dreaming about the day when I'm allowed to work and can actually have money, and looking for possible gifts for Mick's birthday. It's not for 3 weeks, but it's not often that I'm out without him so I thought I'd get a head start. I wandered the cobbly streets of one of my favorite British cities (so far) and just felt really, really happy. In that moment, despite my multiple worries about visas and not having a job or money or a car, it didn't matter, because I've done the right thing. I made the right decision. I left my world behind for a new one I adore in order to be with someone I love. Then, after Mick's mum and I had met up she went into one store while I visited a card shop to see what kinds of cards they had. By the time Mick's birthday rolls around we'll be married, so I headed to the Husband Birthday Card Section. It felt really strange to be looking at cards that say "to my lovely Husband" or "to my fantastic Husband" and "to my perfect Husband on his birthday." WTF? I felt like such an impostor, standing in that section, looking at cards that such grown up women by for their grown up husbands. I'm not a grown up woman, and Mick certainly isn't a grown up man. We're just kids playing at being grown up! At least that's how it feels, because really, no matter how old you are, you still feel like a 6 year old version of yourself wiggling your loose teeth out so you can get your tooth fairy money even if your tooth is barely loose (which I stole from Mick because I just learned today that he used to do this). Anyway! Point being, it was pretty crazy to be standing in a card shop in England where I now live looking for a card for my soon-to-be husband, who I'm marrying next week. Bonkers! But if there's anything I've learned in almost 25 years it's that life is just that--- bonkers.


Much love.

Let's talk about Pubs

Everybody knows about pubs. Even if you've never been to the UK, Ireland or Australia, you know about pubs. Even my 8th grade students, when the topic of my British travels came up, would ask "did you go to any pubs?" I've mentioned on here a few times how much I love these homey establishments. They range in the quality of their beverages and food from sandwiches and chips (premade and microwaved) to gastro-pub quality. Some of the best meals I've had in this country were in pubs. Few meals can top the pork belly I had at The Bull Inn in Wrotham, Kent last summer. Let's talk about pubs in more detail. What are they, really? What does the word "pub" mean? And what is the history of the pub?

A public house, informally known as a pub, is a drinking establishment which is part of British, Irish, Australian, and New Zealand culture. There are approximately 53,500 public houses in the United Kingdom. This number has been declining every year, so that nearly half of the smaller villages no longer have a local pub. In many places, especially in villages, a pub can be the focal point of the community. The writings of Samuel Pepys describe the pub as the heart of England.

The inhabitants of Great Britain have been drinking ale since the Bronze Age, but it was with the arrival of the Romans and the establishment of the Roman road network that the first Inns called tabernae, in which the traveller could obtain refreshment, began to appear. After the departure of Roman authority and the fall of the Romano-British kingdoms, the Anglo-Saxons established alehouses that grew out of domestic dwellings. The Anglo-Saxon alewife would put a green bush up on a pole to let people know her brew was ready. These alehouses formed meeting houses for the locals to meet and gossip and arrange mutual help within their communities. Here lie the beginnings of the modern pub. They became so commonplace that in 965 King Edgar decreed that there should be no more than one alehouse per village.


Thanks, wikipedia. Though that law no longer holds up. There are multiple pubs in each village, though now many pubs are closing down. Some villages have no pubs at all.

Now, something else we need to discuss is how unusual pub names can be. I think the strangest one I've ever noticed was The Black Boy in Sevenoaks, Kent. Though the Scared Crow in West Malling, Kent was also unusual. Probably the most common I've seen is The George and Dragon. Just like the Irish have St. Patrick, the British have St. George who slayed a dragon. Here is a list of unusual pub names in England and their location, should any of my UK readers want to visit.

The Whole in the Wall (Dumfries)
The Bucket of Blood (Cornwall)
The Inn Next Door Burnt Down (Bedfordshire)
The Drunken Duck (Ambelside)
The Quiet Woman (York)
Who'd a Thowt It (Middelton)
Bull & Spectacles (Staffordshire)
The Duke Without a Head (Wateringbury- heeey, I've been here. Never seen that pub, though!)
The Leg of Mutton and Cauliflower (London)
World Turned Upside Down (London)
The Office (Sheffield- get it? I'm guessing this is so men could tell their wives "I'm going to the office" but really go out and get drunk, but not really tell a lie...)
Bull & Bladder (Brierley Hill)
Sir Loin of Beef (Southsea- haha, love that one!)
Plumber's Arms (London)
Man on the Moon (Birmingham)
Crooked Chimney (Hertfordshire)
Jolly Taxpayer (Portsmouth)

These are just a few, but there are thousands of pubs in England alone, so if you want to find some more, go ahead and do some research. For now, I'm going to leave you with some amusing pub signs.

There. Now you have your "Something I learned today." Cheerio! 

Hen Night: 4 Girls, 1 Camera, and lots of booze

It's Monday now and I'm finally caught up on all the sleep I lost partying the night away on Saturday at my Hen Night. My soon-to-be sister-in-law (how many hyphens?!) arranged such a great night and I can't thank her enough.
Laura came to the house in Kent where we visited while she did my hair, then we did our makeup together.
The night started at Black Rock, a really cool restaurant in Maidstone where your steak or fish or whatever is served to you on a volcanic rock on a plate, still cooking. When you decide it's cooked enough to your liking, you dig in!

Mick's mum and her good friend, Lin, joined us girls for dinner

My steak cooking on a rock! It was a 400 degree rock!

For some reason Karen's husband, Andy, got stuck in a picture with us. He came to take Karen and Lin home.

First place we hit was Strawberry Moons. A very fun decorated club with too-loud music and annoying drunk men, all of which were obsessed with stealing or destroying my pink headband. Which they succeeded in doing.

I didn't realize he had bitten it until I saw this picture

All that remained of my headband :(

See the balloon? It was tied to my wrist haha.

Aimee, Laura, Heidi and me

 We walked down the street after Strawberry Moons and went to Muggletons, a pub where we drank blue drinks and I made good use of the shotglass around my neck.

Blue drinks make for blue tongues!

Laura brought dare cards. This one was really hard- see the struggle on my face?

Blue Tongue Club :D

Next we headed to Chocolate Bar (which got me excited because I thought they'd actually have chocolate...) where we danced for ages and made friends with boys.

I was trying to do that dance where your arms hang....

Strange dance moves...

After several hours of dancing at talking and drinking, we decided to call it a night at 4:30am. Then Laura realized we didn't have a key... so I had to call Mick and wake him up, which was not well received. He put a key under the mat for us. We took a cab home and crawled into bed at 5am. I slept restlessly and feeling less than fantastic for about 5 hours before it was time to get up and start the day!

All in all, it was a very enjoyable night that I will never forget!