Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 22

Holiday home

As I blog to you tonight, I am eating marmite on toast – there are somethings you still crave.

It’s odd, though, as it’s sort of like being on holiday, but with a massive TO DO list.

I can’t begin to describe how frustrating it is getting stuff sorted. And it’s so weird where they choose to place the rules. I could easily walk into a drug store and buy a 22. calibre and round of shots with my driving licence and be out again in 20 minutes, but buy a car and get plates and get a licence and get insured and take your eye test…..seriously bloody difficult and complicated. Not so much land of the free, more land of rules and weird bureaucracy nonsense.


It’s expensive, I’ll give them that. Who wants to buy fresh food, when pre-packed is soooo much cheaper. Not on, guys. But they do cheeseballs, so Harry is happy.

Despite the expense, I piled my trolley/shopping cart (note) high at Wegmans (it’s a brand new store with many lovely, distracting things in that were not on my list, but some of which ended up unexpectedly in my trolley) amidst sheer enjoyment of being in a store (note). And so to the fresh counters.

Hi ma’am, can I help you?

Yes please, I’d like two chicken and rosemary kebabs please (I do remember saying please twice, because sometimes they are so polite they deserve a double please).

Can you say rosemary again? Gus, listen to her say rosemary.

(Slowly and in full, middle Britain, best boarding school English) R..o..s..e..m..a..r..y.

I love it, man.

I smile and laugh, but I did not receive a free kebab or anything of the sort for this performance, because even Gus’s friend behind the fresh meat counter would not Break the Rules. More about the serious rules mindset later….

Just like the movies

A small boy on a bike has been throwing local newspapers and piles of junk mail on our lawn every other day. Again, just like in the movies, except now they are in plastic bags, just in case you wondered.

There is also a yellow fire hydrant at the end of our road. I wonder when I shall stop looking at it and amusing myself that, yet again, it’s just like in the movies 🙂


We have a mailbox (just like in the movies) at the end of our street, and we need a key to open it.

It appears to me that they key is not working. I try many keys. I wonder if a neighbour might intervene.

Throughout the day I try and try again.

To my husband I say, the key for the mailbox is not working.

You just go round to the front of it, he says, and we’re box number six.

Oh, I say, I’ve obviously been trying the back of it.

That’s the postman’s/mailman’s (note) side, says he.

In my defence, I’ve been very, very busy and am very, very tired. I have since found out it is a federal offence to attempt to access the mailman’s side. Oopsie!

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1 Response to Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 22

  1. Pingback: Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 83 | ukdesperatehousewifeusa

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