Are My Ears Ringing?

The fire alarm started to sound when I was in the grocery store today. No one even flinched. They all just carried on shopping like nothing was happening. “What’s that?” I asked my husband just to make sure I wasn’t the only one hearing it.

“Sounds like the fire alarm,” he said. He didn’t seem concerned at all so I decided I shouldn’t be concerned either. I just continued picking out produce.

What’s the point of having fire alarms if everyone just ignores them?

Fashion Party

Today I overheard a converstation that went something like this.

Woman 1: I’ve nearly finished planning Alexandra’s 7th birthday party.

Woman 2: What have you decided to do?

Woman 1: We’re going to have a fashion party. The girls will try on designer clothes and have their hair and make-up done. The make-up will be age appropriate of course.

Woman 2: Well of course.

I’ll let the designer clothes thing slide, but I want to know what age appropriate make-up for a 7 year old looks like. Maybe it’s face paint, but somehow I doubt it.

Quaint English Towns

Nothing beats a quaint English town. The old buildings and narrow streets ooze charm. My husband drives around the country quite a lot traveling from gig to gig. During his travels he’s seen a lot of English towns. His favorite things about them are their names. Here are some examples:

  • Titty Hill
  • Cocking
  • Cockermouth
  • Dorking
  • Balls Cross
  • Assington
  • Effingham
  • Uckfield
  • Upper Dicker
  • Lower Dicker

My husband likes the racier names, but I prefer pleasant sounding names like Grimsby. Wouldn’t just just love to live there?

Before and After

If you spend any time on the internet you’ve seen the before and after pictures on weight loss ads that seem to appear on every website I look at these days. They promise you that you can loose lots of weight if you follow some special diet plan, take weight loss pills, or consume acai berries. I love these ads and often find myself clicking on them just to see what their claims are.

The before and after pictures are the best part. Most of the time, I don’t even think the same people are featured in the the before and after photos. That’s a pretty amazing weight loss pill if it helps you loose 50 pound and changes your bone structure all at the same time.

The other day I saw this picture on an ad on a site.

stomachYou can’t even tell if these are the same people. They don’t even bother showing her face in the first picture. I wonder why. Even if it is the same person what changed really. She stopped sticking out her belly, put on a shirt that covered her midsection, and then carefully camouflaged her stomach with an After sign.

Fire and Ash

So that volcano in Iceland is still erupting leaving air travellers stranded in airports all over the world. I’m just letting you know in case you haven’t been watching the news. Goodness knows I haven’t. I didn’t even realize this eruption thing was still an issue until I was in church in Sunday and this situation was mentioned in the opening prayer.

I can’t even image how those poor stranded people must feel. If I have more than a 3-hour layover in an airport I start to loose my mind. This has been going on for days and days now. When I asked my husband how long volcanoes usually erupt he said, “Sometimes they erupt for years.” Suddenly I felt really stranded too.

I think those stranded air travellers should band together and use their creative ingenuity and know-how to build a vehicle out of luggage carts to cross the continent. The travelers that have to cross the seas should strap their luggage together Joe-Versus-the-Volcano-style and sail across. I mean that’s what I would do. It’s the next logical step, isn’t it? It worked for Joe.

All the news reports keep referring to this volcano as the volcano in Iceland or the Icelandic volcano. It made me wonder if it had a name so I looked it up and found out why they called it that. Does anyone know how to pronounce Eyjafjallajökull?

Spring is Here

40/365 Daffodils

Easter came and went and I found myself wondering when spring would finally start.

“Isn’t Easter supposed to mark the beginning of spring?” I asked my husband as I looked out the window at the dreary day.

Spring may have been a little late to the party this year, but she’s finally arrived in the fanciest party dress she could friend. Finally, I can see blue skies and sunshine. It’s such a relief. I don’t feel like drowning myself in the bathtub any more.  Okay, I’m being a bit melodramatic. I was never going to drown myself in the bathtub. Maybe I would just put my face under the water for a few seconds which is technically not drowning.

Has Your Accent Changed, too?

union-jack2

I was having a conversation with my husband yesterday about money that went something like this.

My husband: All I have is ten dollars. (My husband still says dollars even though we’ve been in the UK for two years now.)

Me: Here I have a twenty.

My husband: What did you say?

Me: I have a twenty.

My husband: What do you have?

Me: A twenty.

My husband: You’re accent is changing. (For some reason this delights him.)

According to him, I’ve started pronouncing the t’s in the middle of words like the English. I have no idea what he’s talking about. I don’t notice any difference at all.

Here’s an interesting side note. I got my Indefinite Leave to Remain Visa in the mail the other day. That means I can stay. This is no longer a 2 year experiment in living abroad. The funny thing is when read up on this visa before applying I didn’t read anything about the receipt of it changing the way you pronounce your t’s. Will the way I spell things change soon too?

(If my stepson ever starts reading this post and sees that I’ve put a picture of the Union Jack up, he’ll go on and on about how he can’t believe I did that. He’s painfully proud to be American.)

Royal Mail?

I missed the delivery of a package the other day. Isn’t that always what happens? You’re home all day, but you step out for 30 minutes and that’s when they show up. When I first saw the red missed delivery slip on the floor, I was excited. I’m always excited to get a package in the mail. Then I realized the package wasn’t really for me. It was medication for someone else in the house that I ordered. Not so exciting.

Anyway, I had to go to the central post office to pick up my undelivered package. It was a pretty dreary day and I wasn’t feeling too great. We drove down the same tiny stretch of road three times trying to find the entrance to the post office. When I finally spotted the sign I cheered up. “This is going to be interesting,” I thought.

entranceA spray painted sign on the horrible looking fence is never a good start. When I think of the post office I think of a friendly looking building with a mailbox out front.

cars-entranceThis is what you see as you turn into the entrance. “What is this a used car lot?” I asked my husband. You’re probably thinking this really isn’t bad. Just wait.

containersThese crazy metal containers are lining the entire drive. What the heck are these?! I could imagine that at one time these containers weren’t rusty and had lovely green shrubs growing out of them. I have an excellent imagination.

royal-mailThis is the post office with the lovely red Royal Mail sign above the door behind what appears to be a garbage dump. Check out the barb wire. Is this really the image Royal Mail wants to put out there? I was scared to pick up my package from that place. Who knows what kind of hoodlum would jump out and mug me while I’m casually walking out of the post office with my package.

Try to Remember the 5th of November

It’s Guy Fawkes Night. All this time I thought it was Guy Forks Night, but I was recently corrected. Apparently, this holiday has nothing to do with forks which is unfortunate because I was quite enjoying the idea of celebrating guys and forks. They’re such useful inventions. Well, I guess guys aren’t really an invention. Anyway, none of this matters because it’s not about that, this night is all about Guy Fawkes. So here’s my understanding of what we’re celebrating.

Guy Fawkes was a Catholic who was being oppressed by the Protestants. He and some other Catholics decided to show the Protestant powers that be that they weren’t going to be kicked around anymore. So they rented a cellar beneath the Parliament building. Obviously, they had few national security concerns back then. I mean what were they thinking allowing Catholics to rent out the Parliament basement.

These Catholics were up to no good, let me tell you. They put a whole lot of gunpowder in the basement with the idea that they would blow up the Parliment building killing the King, his family, the evil Prostetant overlords and a few  Catholics as collateral damage. It was a great plan, until they got caught on November 5, 1605. They were all drawn, hung, and quartered. And now every November 5th, the English celebrate this by setting off fireworks in their yards.