Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 33

Housing heaven

Walking around the houses here is a little bit like walking around Center Parcs, if you’ve ever done it. Except the houses are more massive.

We do like to have a good old nose at the houses, as far as we can without being too intrusive, and because there are no fences this means the gardens back on to the paths, so it feels literally like you are walking in and around their gardens. Garden fences here do not really exist – I think it’s only people with dogs and Brits who feel the need to put up fences. Otherwise, ‘mi jardín es tu jardín’, except it’s not really because one does not cross unidentified boundaries.

The realtor thing cracks me up. This is why….

How can you not be amused by The Bob Chew and Ronna Corman-Chew TRUCK outside a house they are trying to sell?!!!!!

OMG, the airbrushing. I want to know more about them. On Ronna’s Facebook site she claims that she “turns dreams into an address”. I don’t want an address, Ronna, I want a published novel, love. Magic that one out of your van.

This is their website:

If you can’t be bothered to access their site, this is the bit that matters: “As a dynamic and enthusiastic married couple, Bob, Ronna and their entire team work full time establishing clients for life by providing superior service and extensive knowledge of the Maryland Real Estate market.”

But just look at some of those properties! They are immense.

BobandRonna (I refuse to use spaces between their names as I feel they are one co-joined person as in their website name) certainly give boring old Peter Ball in the Cotswolds a run for his mundane-3-bed-semi-with-walled-garden money.

However, I feel that if I am buying a house from BobandRonna  I am probably also buying into some sort of cult where I would begin to fall under their enchantment by cutting my hair and colouring it so that I begin to resemble Ronna; then Bob would take me in for Real Estate-come-Yoga lessons; then I become part of the  Team of Long and Foster Realtors and bang, I’m sold/selling.

But this is the best thing I have found in my Resource Investigator mode:,0,  I love BobandRonna and their 80s glamour!  How we would oggle and chuckle over BobandRonna if I were in the office back in the UK now……

The USA’s very own Glastonbury

Ellicott City, dear friends, is a little slice of bohemian madness only 5 miles from the clinical suburbia we live in, and I loved it.

Not dissimilar to Glastonbury (tho here be rest assured, father, I did not get my nose re-pierced or another tattoo), this haven of Main Street offers history (yes, history!), crazy men in hats and glasses and suits made of patchwork  who blow massive bubbles ( and mad sisters running Halloween shops with endless trinkets in store.

How these mad sisters doted on our accents! How they loved Harry (“Oh, Harry,” they cried, “are ya royalty?!”) How crazy fabulous their shop was!

We like Ellicott City and I shall return for another nose at those lovely trinkets….

Candy vs Sweets

For the record, Harry has started saying candy……

Words can confuse

A nurse delighted in telling me today that they find some of our words amusing.

Apparently her friend had a cat, and Americans, she tells me, just call them pussies all the time (yes, you can see where this is leading). So her friend is in somewhere (sorry, didn’t catch where) and takes a call from her vets who tells her that her pussy has fleas. Well, her friend is mad, shouting down the phone “what you telling me, my pussy has fleas?”. Apparently she shouted this a lot. And the English guys in the booth next to her were laughing and then she realised why they were laughing.

I began to explain that they call their bottoms ‘fannys’, but we call………..then I wasn’t quite sure how to pursue that one, and blood was coming out of Harry’s arm anyway, so we had a grateful distraction.

Poo corner

The local pool issued and amusing email today that stated the following: “The pool will be closed the remainder of today, September 17, due to a fecal incident. The pool will reopen tomorrow, September 18 at 5:30am. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

This amused me, and I just wanted to share with you how proper and correct that is.


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2 Responses to Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 33

  1. Laurel says:

    No fences but quite a lot of guns…..;-)

  2. Pingback: Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 323 | ukdesperatehousewifeusa

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