Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 362

Taco/taco

Apparently, I don’t say Taco correctly, like the Americans do, according to Harry. And he might very well be right.

‘Would you like a taco?’ (I pronounce it TACK-O)
‘A what? It’s not TACK-O. Americans say TAH-KO. But it’s not even an English or American word anyway, so you have to say it right.’

I stand corrected.

TAH-KO

TAH-KO

Take out boxes

I don’t think ever, ever, ever in the UK I’ve been asked it I want to take home my food that I can’t eat from a restaurant in a take out box. Maybe, just maybe pizza, but otherwise, nope, I don’t recall that EVER happening.

Maybe it’s something to do with portion size here in the USA that I tend to have more leftovers, but that’s another debate.

If you can't eat all that, fret not - shove it in a box and take it home!

If you can’t eat all that, fret not – shove it in a box and take it home!

It’s actually no bad thing to take it home and not waste the food on your plate, and I was so excited 18 months ago when I was given my first take out box at Famous Dave’s. I stuffed in the ribs and the cornbread and we merrily munched on that as another meal the next day. But, I honestly don’t think I would be offered a take out box anywhere in the UK if I couldn’t finish my meal.

If this is now the case, and it does happen, yet again I will stand corrected.

It’s funny, it’s just one of those American things that I now take for granted. I’m not sure how a British waiter or waitress would respond if I asked for a take out box. I’ll try it next time. Not in Claridges, though, naturally.

PG Tips

This is my British friend’s car number plate / license plate in the USA. She drinks tea, in case you didn’t guess. 😉

British class!

British class!

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 361

Say Uncle!

What does this mean? Apparently, with the recent snow storm, folks here in the USA are commenting that you’ve just got to say ‘Uncle’ and be done with it.

I don’t know what you’re on about! (Or, at least, I didn’t until I Googled it!)

What does it mean? Well, in the United States and Canada the idiomatic expression “Say ‘uncle’!” may be used as an imperative command to demand submission of one’s opponent, such as during an informal wrestling match. Similarly, the exclamation “Uncle!” is an indication of submission – analogous to “I give up” – or it may be a cry for mercy, in such a game or match.

Although it is often regarded as an Americanism, there are at least two differing theories as to the true origin of the phrase: ancient Rome and 19th century England.

Now I see how it relates to the snow storm. And, yes, I submit.

I say 'uncle', snow storm, I really do.

I say ‘uncle’, snow storm, I really do.

Britishness – what is it?

How British am I? Has some of my Britishness been stripped from me whilst in the States, or am I more acutely aware of my Britishness?

Sure, I play on using the la-dee-dah British accent when I can, and I like to waffle on that I’ve met Princes Charles and Edward, and that I went to boarding school a la Mallory Towers, and I LOVE a good old bout of British innuendo as per Kenneth Williams (‘ooh matron!’), and I adore Wimbledon, London, British fashion, and Agatha Christie and wotnot – BUT I think sometimes I’m not as inherently attached to and totally defined by my Britishness and British traditions as much as some of the other British folk who come over to the USA are, and I’m not sure why that is.

Every time!

Every time!

Jolly hockey sticks!

Jolly hockey sticks!

I don’t crave fish and chips, but I do like a cup of tea. I don’t miss British things as such, but I do get a little bit homesick every now and then for certain aspects of living. I definitely haven’t found any knickers as good as those in Marks and Spencers, but I don’t wish for a Sunday roast or a cooked breakfast as part of my routine.

Interestingly, I have discovered certain things in the States that are just as appealing, if not more so, than the UK: the pride in history; the theatre scene and commitment to the arts; beaches and coastlines being just a few of those things.

That said, I still like to spell words the British way, and I love our sense of humour, and the way we laugh in the face of adversity. These three things stick with me no matter what!

Anyway, it got me to thinking – what does it mean to be quintessentially British? It means a whole host of things, let me tell you! And here’s my article about that very thing. Enjoy! And feel free to comment! 😉

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 360

Spring is just round the corner

Well, this is what I told myself when I was smacked in the face with 14 inches of the white stuff this morning. And they say we can expect a few more inches before the day is over. Enough already!

Anyway, I keep positive that Spring really is just round the corner and that I will be rolling out the Daisy Dukes in no time.

I can’t look at anymore snow pics; it’s kind of depressing me. However, this one made me smile.

That's commitment.

That’s commitment.

11 Things Challenge

So, I got challenged by another blogger to share 11 things about me. As I am bored of watching my husband shovel snow and I have baked my way into cake-hell on this snow day, I shall take time to share these answers with you, since, if you do live in Maryland, you’ll have some free time between snow shovelling to read this, and if you are in the UK, it will be a nice break from the incessant rain, you poor things 😦

1) What is your favorite time of day?
I have three favourite times of the day – when I get out of the shower and am all ready for the day, have got my head straight and feel refreshed; about 2pm in the afternoon when I am writing, having taught class, got my jobs done, and can spend some time being creative; and just before bed, because I generally feel that I am all accomplished and I totally love sleeping.

2) When are you most productive in your writing?
Oh, I think I just answered that – in the afternoon, although I have been known to write into the small hours of the night and get up first thing to write stuff, as it’s in my head and I just have to write it down! Not even time for a cuppa!

A right and proper cuppa.

A right and proper cuppa.

3) What are your goals for your blog?
I would love this blog to be picked up by the Guardian or the Huffington Post and for someone to pay me oodles of money for wearing Daisy Dukes and comparing and contrasting the UK and the USA forever and ever and ever.

4) Do you use Twitter to increase your blog’s reach?
Hmm, sometimes. I like Twitter, but I don’t love it. We have an awkward relationship, but sometimes we gel.

5) What is the coolest city you’ve been to for work or pleasure?
It’s a toss-up between London, NYC, Edinburgh and Prague. I love them all because they are vibrant and full of culture and character, but Edinburgh might just top it because of its Gothic darkness. I love that it oozes that from its back streets still. And haggis. I don’t got back to many places more than once, but I’ve been to Edinburgh three times and adored it every time.

Love this city.

Love this city.

6) If you could work in a different country, which one would you choose?
I’d work at a beach/book bar somewhere (no preference where that beach bar is, to be honest, as long as it’s hot), writing books, listening to my husband play guitar, watching my son play in the sand and surf, eat only fresh fish and fruit, do yoga on the beach at sunrise and sunset, and serve coffee to folks who want to come by and be creative and write and draw stuff and play music. Yes, I think I am somewhat living in a 1960s/70s fantasy world.

Somewhere like this, please

Somewhere like this, please

7) How many types of exercise do you do?
Gawd, bloody loads. I actually find it a bit boring when people waffle on about all the exercise they do. So, to confirm, I have done nothing on this snow day. Just been sitting here writing and eating muffins. But we all deserve a day off, right?

8) Do you practice yoga?
No, even tho in my head I would like to do it, as per question 6. Maybe it’s time to do take it up, though when I will fit it in, I have no idea.

9) Do you like cats or dogs or no pets?
All animals. Love them, love them. Squeeze them, cuddle them. Animals are therapeutic and have personalities, even if my husband does not think so. I saw the fish give him the finger for saying that the other day.

10) What is your favorite holiday?
Beach, city, culture, activity. I love them all. Holidays are, along with sleeping, pretty much the bestest thing on the planet.

I love holibobs

I love holibobs

11) Has the reason you started your blog changed?
No, it’s still about writing, and still about the journey, and still about having a laugh. It’s like my little baby, who has grown with me on this USA adventure. The question is, what will happen when I get back to the UK…?

Now I have to:
• Acknowledge the nominating blogger by linking back to their blog – thanks Angie at http://angiekozblogs.wordpress.com/
• Invite 11 more bloggers to take up the challenge and give them 11 questions to answer.

Okay, so, the nominees are…

http://www.hocorising.com
http://memyselfandatlanta.wordpress.com/
http://www.smittenbybritain.com
http://mommyhasaheadache.blogspot.com/
http://expatmum.blogspot.com/
http://kirstycat1209.blogspot.com/
http://catmcbainfox.wordpress.com/
http://andanotherthinghon.com/
http://www.bringingupbrits.co.uk/
http://lostinthepond.blogspot.com/
http://villagegreentownsquared.blogspot.com/

My 11 questions are:

1. What advice would you give your brand new blogging self now?
2. What four words would you say to your 18 year old self?
3. What three things do you think define you as either a Brit or American?
4. Which TV show character are you and why?
5. Apocalypse Now or Mary Poppins?
6. Are white lies okay to tell? Please elaborate!
7. Whether you are a parent or not, what are the three most important things about raising a child?
8. Favourite swear word and why?
9. If you could have one super power what would it be?
10. Worst holiday experience ever.
11. Elevator pitch to the Huffington Post, no more than 30 words, for your blog…..

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 359

What happens when a bunch of British women in the USA get together…..?

Tea! Scones! McVities Digestives! Millionaire’s Shortbread! That’s what happens!

I met up with a group of British ladies this week, all of whom have been in the USA for varying amounts of time – some for 40 years, some for one year, some who had lived all over the States, and some who came out to Maryland with husbands and families for postings and just stayed.

Let me tell you something: I think that if I had walked into that house NOT knowing that this was a group of British women I would have just automatically known that they were.

Why? Because of the tea, the teeth and the pearls…. 😉 I said to one woman that we could probably cast The Calendar Girls three times over from this bunch of women. Eclectic, eccentric and most excellent!

One of those Calendar Girls in my mother! ;)

One of those Calendar Girls in my mother! 😉

And what do we talk about? Oh, the differences between us Brits and our American friends; how our accents don’t change; what we love about America (and what we struggle with!); how the kids adopt the American accent to fit in (apart from Harry!); where we’ve been; what we appreciate and miss about the UK; and the weather at home and here, of course!

The Queen on the teacups gives it away!

The Queen on the teacups gives it away!

A very British selection of cheese and biscuits

A very British selection of cheese and biscuits

Millionaire's Shortbread: is this a very British treat?

Millionaire’s Shortbread: is this a very British treat?

Scone!

Scone!

I am always surprised by the number of Brits there are in the USA. These British women loved living in America, but were fiercely proud of their culture and their roots and craved some very British things still, even after all this time.

Got their cuppas!

Got their cuppas!

My favourite conversation?

One Brit to another, looking at the two teapots on the sideboard: ‘Is one decaf?’
Hosting Brit: ‘No, they’re both just tea.’

😉

When I left the gathering I said something very British that I haven’t said in a long time.

‘Cheerio!’ I said – and I smiled, acknowledging my very British British-ism.

Quintessentially British

What do you think the phrase ‘quintessentially British’ means?

For some it might be a Sunday afternoon walk, a roast dinner, Bonfire Night or queuing! According to sources ‘the culture of the UK is the pattern of human activity and symbolism associated with the country and its people.’

But what does ‘quintessentially British’ mean to you?

What does it mean for you?

What does it mean for you?

I’m writing a new piece entitled ‘Quintessentially British’ for Smitten by Britain and your thoughts on this would be a fantastic addition. Leave your comments here, on my Facebook site, or email me at clairebolden@hotmail.com

And this one...?!

And this one…?!

I’ll also be writing a companion piece entitled ‘Typically American’, so any comments on that also welcome!

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 358

USA basketball is messing with my head!

So, yesterday I encountered American basketball for the first time (Washington Wizards vs the Sacramento Kings). I’d seen the Harlem Globtrotters before (see here for a reminder of THAT experience!), but this was my first real ‘game’.

I went with an open mind, and hoped it would be fun and all that jazz. It was much more than jazz – it was like some messed up, crazy bad acid trip messing with my head.

Honestly, my senses felt they were being constantly attacked aurally and visually and it was utterly exhausting. Oh yes, and were they playing basketball at all….?!

Look, I think basketball is a fab sport – it has shades of netball, which we Brit school gals were raised on (although I still reckon that netball is faster, more skilled, a better team sport and we surely don’t ‘fall’ over as much). Credit where credit is due – these basketball guys are amazing athletes, with skill and expertise – and some of them are pretty hot too.

BUT, for me, the whole spectacle of the basketball court takes away from the actual game.

Basketball or entertainment?

Basketball or entertainment?

So, what exactly was messing with my head?

1. There was never a moment’s silence on court where you could just hear the cheers of the crowd. There was constant noise – music, or talking, or videos, or commercials, or thanking of someone or other, or video cams (admittedly, I liked the dance cam, but had to ensure young Harry kept his kit on for that bit).
2. It was all the jumping from one song to another (never a whole song); the whole ‘defence’ tune (which I had nightmares about last night) that did my head in. How on earth can anyone concentrate on anything? There is no time to just ‘enjoy’ the game, or even the song.
3. I didn’t know where to look half the time – am I watching the game, or am I watching the screen showing the game, or am I watching the cheerleaders, or am I watching the managers and coaches hamming it up on the sidelines, or am I watching the people dressed up as bears and eagles? See – messing with my head, it was!
4. The ‘organ music’ reminded me of the organist in the Vicar of Dibley where he liked to play popular music in a kind of camp way, which was a little bit embarrassing and inappropriate. It was pretty funny to hear it, and at least chortling about that sort of got me through that bit of it.
5. At one point I thought I was in a bad dream being surrounded by food the whole time. Non-stop food. Commercials for Papa John’s half price pizza if the Wizards get 100 points; this side of the stadium gets 99 cents iced coffee at Dunkin Donuts if the guys gets all the cubes in a box (mid-game entertainment); buy your over-priced fried food here; get your nachos covered in heart-attack there; get your cotton candy and keep your kids awake all night over there. Argh! It was literally non-effing stop with the food. One guy next to me had nachos, then a hot dog, then a massive soda and then apple pie and then back for a pulled pork sandwich and pretzel. STOP EATING!
6. The cheerleaders (‘dancing girls’) did not do tumbling and jumping and all that exciting stuff. Gutted. They just kind of posed and shook their pom-poms and waved their booties in the air (tho, to be fair, I am going to steal a move for Zumba). I don’t think they got the irony of their routine to ‘Respect’…..
7. You can’t hold a conversation with the person closest to you at any time – it’s just too frigging loud! Just when you think you might be able to say something to the person next to you, some dude comes on and is shouting on the screen via a mic telling you what to scream when. Not a moment’s peace is given to you in three hours. I confess to putting my hands over my ears at one point and rocking back and forth….. 😉 I had to get up and walk outside for a few minutes in the snow – yes, it was that bad a trip!

Respect.

Respect.

What did I like? Really…hang on, I’m thinking…..I liked the fact that I have experienced this now, and that I know this bit of America is not for me. It was too in my face, too bright, too loud, too commercial, too hectic. I think I need to take myself off in the mountains and find a Dude Ranch to chill out at and feel at one with nature, working hard waxing saddles (or whatever it is you do), picking my own crops and eating outdoors in the clean air to cleanse myself from last night’s experience.

It made me wonder what the complete antithesis of this basketball experience was in the UK, and it is totally Wimbledon. Totally. I think I’m a Wimbledon kind of gal at heart. 😉

I've been here and it is beautifully British

I’ve been here and it is beautifully, serenely British 😉

Now, I did enjoy the baseball experience of last year and I’m looking forward to a few games seeing the Orioles this year. Why did I enjoy that? Because it was outdoors, because I got to watch a game (okay, it was slow-ish, but they played), because there was entertainment, but it was a bit more contained, and less in your face. So, I’m good to go with baseball – roll on the baseball season!

100 days of school

I got a note from school today declaring that tomorrow is the 100th day of school.

Um – I want to say ‘liar, liar, pants on fire’ because I don’t think that’s entirely true, what with the number of frigging snow days we’ve had! 😉

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 357

Opinions divided on Baltimore

Ah, Baltimore. You are a conundrum.

Some parts of Baltimore are rough: fact.
Some parts are lush: fact.

I, for one, would not saunter through some of the areas of Baltimore in my Daisy Dukes whistling ‘It’s a Long Way to Tipperary’ and swinging my Mulberry about, that’s for sure. However, other areas are just joyous and cultural and interesting and up-and-coming. We like these bits.

Opinion divided

Opinion divided

Opinion is divided by locals of Baltimore and some recent commentary on the troubled city has been fascinating to read, particularly in sequence of them being published.

Read: Baltimore: You’re Breaking My Heart

Then read: Baltimore: You’re Not Breaking My Heart

Finally, read: Whose Heart is Baltimore Really Breaking?

The Huffington Post recently rated Baltimore as number 2 in a list of the cities in the country that are most afflicted with crime. Thee report takes into account everything from differences in police reporting standards, urban borders and demographics.

‘2. Baltimore, Maryland
Baltimore is doing what it can to improve its crime problem, but it’s got a long way to go. There were still 223 homicides in 2010, down from 282 a few years prior; however, there were also 722 reports of violent crime per 100,00 residents, 68 percent higher than the national average.’

😦

Pronuciation

Harry sometimes gets a little perturbed by the pronunciations of words by his American friends.

Just the other day he sighed: ‘The Americans at school have this thing called ‘yo-git’ and it looks just the same as yoghurt….that’s weird.’

So many more we say differently

So many more we say differently

I get kind of excitable when I hear a different pronunciation. When my friend said he was ‘trying to grow ‘erbs’ last week I squealed: ‘You said ‘erbs, you said ‘erbs!’ He looked confused. ‘We say herbs,’ I explained. ‘But you said ‘erbs just like Mia Farrow in Rosemary’s Baby!’

My love/hate relationship with USA dentists

Oh, I open my gob with slight fear and trepidation in the dentist’s chair in the USA – still.

I know what to expect with the conversation, despite that fact that I have good teeth (for a Brit).

‘Do you not have regular check ups in the UK?’
‘Ummmm, no, not really…kind of twice a year.’
‘Oh gosh. We are quite dedicated to our teeth here.’
‘Yes, it must be big business….I’ve seen your car.’
😉

I feel like I have to explain and apologise and waffle on about the NHS and drinking tea, and how we once ate limes on ships, and scurvy and pirates. And all this is actually quite hard to say when someone is clawing around in your mouth for an hour.

The British teeth stereotype, by Austin Powers

The British teeth stereotype, by Austin Powers

The thing is, I think U.S. dentists are ace, and they do a cracking job, but, cor blimey, it’s hard to have a British set of teeth over here!

Knocked me for six

I told my American friend yesterday that I had got over my bug (sob, sob, been terribly poorly, that I have) and that it had quite literally ‘knocked me for six.’

He did not know what I meant, and my other half explained.

‘She was completely knackered – sort of knocked out by it. Ummmm, anyway, that phrase comes from cricket….it’s the highest scoring point where the ball exits the circle without leaving the ground..’

Bet that ball knocked them for six

Bet that ball knocked them for six

Sounds weird when you try to explain it, doesn’t it?!

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 356

Howard County: Living Life to the Fullest, by Me

Folks, I’m doing all sorts in the lovely County of Howard, where I live. And I love it. I’m living it up!

What do I to pass the time….?

Well (deep breath!):

* I teach fitness classes to a great bunch of Americans (and some Brits!);
* I help the local elementary school and the food bank with nutrition guidance;
* I write for magazines like Howard Magazine, and online newspapers (such as the Baltimore Post Examiner) and blog sites about being British in the USA (see Lost in the Pond and Smitten by Britain);
*I work with my friend Tom Coale to support his political campaign events;
* and I’m going to be acting with the Chesapeake Shakespeare Company in the Spring in their production of Romeo and Juliet.

Happy in #hocomd

Happy in #hocomd

Phew! It’s right knackering sometimes, let me tell you! Sure, my carpet needs cleaning, but ‘sod it’, is my view – live life to the fullest. My expat experience is only for a few years and I’m packing it in!

Top banana! Back of the net! (And other jolly happy Brit phrases!)

And of course I write this blog on a nearly daily basis! I’m one busy expat-bee (who also needs to visit a million more places in the USA and blog about them!)

Anyhoo, in a few weekends time I’m going to be serving drinks as a ‘Celebrity Bartender’ to the great and good and generally smashing folk of Howard County to raise funds for Howard County educational initiatives at Evening in the Stacks: Vintage Vegas.

To promote the event, we filmed this video and it’s pretty cool. I’m dead chuffed to be part of this little piece of Americana. In fact, it’s one of the highlights of living here so far. And I know there are even more to come! Such fun!

Take a look, blog readers, and when you’re done, go here and leave a nice tip for me. Go on, it will be ace and brillopads if you do – and you’ll get a shout out on the Desperate English Housewife in Washington Facebook page!

Cheers, mateys!

😉

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 355

Letter boxes

I miss my letter box being in my front door. Why? Well, the other day my friend wanted to drop something round for me in an envelope, but because I wasn’t in, so she couldn’t just push it though the door like back in the UK cos we don’t have one and it wasn’t safe just to leave it on the doorstep, and that got me thinking…..I really do I miss my letterbox!

I guess I miss the sound of letters being pushed through the door and landing on the doorstep. I find that exciting! Yes, I really do (something to do with being at boarding school and the excitement of receiving communication from the outside world…). I think I’ve also missed it in the recent big freeze, when I’ve had to traipse outside (what a hard life, hey?!) and collect my mail, or post, of whatever we call it.

Such traditions!

Such traditions!

The idea here in Columbia is that our community letterboxes are supposed to enable and encourage conversation between neighbours who go to collect their post at the same time. I like that idea, I really do. Alas, it’s only happened to me twice in 18 months – and I collect my mail every day!

Taxes

OMFG. What the hell? I don’t get USA taxes, but then math/s was never my strong point, except when I won a Maths prize for having a nice smile 😉

Anyway, I’ve wasted a lot of time trying to explain to the tax folk that I don’t fit in the usual box scenario and they can’t even see my winning smile when I’m on the phone. Actually, after 15 minutes I’m not frigging smiling anymore, to be honest. Suffice to say, I am one confused little Brit.

Door code

‘What’s the door code?’ I asked at the gym.
‘Valentine’s Day,’ they replied.

Bugger, it’s not working.

Then it hit me. They mean the American date stylie as in ‘214’ and I’m tapping in British date stylie ‘142’. Doh!

Droopy trees

Another ice storm today hits us in Maryland. Enough already! Even the bloody trees are looking all droopy and fed up under the weight of the ice, and owing to the fact that they’ve had enough of the freezing cold, crappy weather too.

Kind of pretty :)

Kind of pretty 🙂

A boy’s treehouse is his castle

My post about Harry’s treehouse has got people thinking.

Before I start, I must reiterate that I like living in Columbia – I’m a big advocate of it and support it and promote it and all that jazz. Not all Brits who come to live here do that, let me tell you. I proudly take visitors around Columbia, but it has its flaws too, of course.

The ‘villages’ created here in the 1970s are singularly unattractive, and to my view they lack charm and personality and character. They are functional, but not full of life and certainly not ‘villages’ as I know them back in the UK, but then why should they be? This is modern America.

If you look back all the things that I chose as my favourite things about living here from my post back in December, I chose all the quirky, off beat, unconventional bits of the area that generally have more soul and character and were that bit older. Interesting.

This is certainly not a criticism of Columbia or the Columbia Association (I work for them, for Gawd’s sake!), it’s just a view from a British bird’s perspective. I am told that, in respect to them having a pop at Harry’s tree house that, technically, it’s the village in which you live that sets and enforces the covenants, not Columbia Association, per se. I guess I’m just not used to someone owing the land, or even my front garden…..

So what do my British friends back home make of this very specific yellow card request? It’s not something we are used to in our world, back home – that is, being told what to conform to and such like with our homes. If Harry had built a treehouse in our front garden in the UK, then most folks would think it was sweet and creative and cute – and they would stop to chat to him and walk away just being grateful he’s not some little shit throwing eggs at them or their cars.

😉

This is David’s view….

‘I was really shocked to read Claire’s post about someone from the Residents’ Association sending her a yellow card telling her to clear ways Harry’s treehouse in the front garden. My immediate reaction was what a bloody cheek, and for me, even though I have been thinking about it, my reaction is pretty much the same now.

‘But I did say I had been thinking about it. I guess part of the issue is the differences between the US and the UK but it is more than just the system. I am guessing that the Residents’ Associations in the states have some legal standing, where as is the UK they are just a social group and at best a neighbourhood watch group, twitching the curtains on the lookout for villains. We do have some private estates where the residents own a management company to run the common parts but that has nothing to do with the management of the individual houses.

Twitching curtains or helpful?

Twitching curtains or helpful?

‘It is the second difference that really got me thinking though; it is the difference in mind-set between our friendly cousins in the US and the English on this issue. There is a very old saying “An English man’s home is his castle” and this is taken very close to heart. It really comes down to no King or State shall tell me what to do with or within my own home. This is partly due the heart of the English nation is about individualism.

An English man's home is his castle :)

An English man’s home is his castle 🙂

‘The French are a collective nation that believes in large government and the individual being subservient to the system of government. For the American, loyalty to the President and the flag is very important and this is still a belief the state, at very least manages (if not rules), the people (just get an American talking about the IRS).
Compare the ease with which the draft was introduced for the Vietnam war, a war the other side of the world from the us and the introduction of conscription in the first world war in Britain. The nation was on its knees under threat of invasion and still the government was reluctant to do it as the right of the individual was seen as foremost. It was the first time in the history of a nation that had ruled many parts of the globe that men had been forced to war.

‘For the English, although we like a bit of pageantry and are quite fond of Liz in her palace, it is the individual before the state. We don’t call the people who work in our government Civil Servants for nothing. They are there to serve the citizens. It is the rights and freedoms of the individual that is in the heart and mind of the Englishman.

‘Now, I worked for a very senior American boss, in an American company, in the UK. This guy had the habit of calling and referring to people by their surnames. Eventually I had enough and had to take him to one side and say to him: “I have not been called by my surname since I was at school, so will you please stop doing it; everybody just thinks you are being bloody rude.” He did not think he was doing anything wrong but it was disrespectful to the individuality of the person.

‘One of our political broadcasters (Jeremy Paxman) in the UK has a book called The English: A Portrait of a People. I would urge anyone that wishes to understand the psyche of the English to read it. Especially if you intend to work in the UK.’

Us funny old English folk

Us funny old English folk

Thanks David, for those thoughts (and your treehouse support!). 🙂

Comments welcome!

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 354

This ad is the dog’s b*llocks!

Well, I trawled through the Superbowl commercials from Sunday and I liked the Doritos one, because it was cute, and I don’t get what all the fuss is about the Coca-Cola one.

Some folks are having a pop because it’s not all sung in English. Sigh. Honestly, get over it! I choose the Spanish option at the store check out to try and improve my Spanish. America is multicultural – that’s to celebrate. So, whilst you are banned in our house, Coke, because you are gut-rotting soda, I dig your commercial.

Yes it is, because it is diverse.

Yes it is, because it is diverse.

Anyhow. this commercial was shown in Georgia, and it is frigging epic by an American dude attorney called Jamie Casino! It’s like a mini-movie or a trailer! Seriously, check this out! It’s nuts! And the fact his surname is ‘Casino’ – even more kudos to the bloke. He rocks!!

This time, I say it and mean it with a big grin of approval on my face – ONLY IN AMERICA! 😉

Clean up your front yard!

The other day, when I was sitting just in this very place, writing my blog, I saw a woman with a clipboard outside. I thought not much of it, because the house next door is for sale and I guessed it was some kind of Real Estate lady – she had that kind of bouffant hair you see on the side of their vans. 😉

Anyway, yesterday I got a yellow card in my mail box from the local residents’ association! Oh, my delight!

Now, I have friends who are on their own residents’ associations in their neighbourhoods in Columbia, and they take it very seriously, and I appreciate and respect that. It must be a tough job.

I also get that when the Columbia Association was founded the neighbourhoods were subject to a serious of standards and rules. Like, you don’t paint your door purple (this is not Brighton or Torquay) and you have no junk in your front yard. Seriously, there is none of that here – remember when I was aghast to see a mattress in the ROAD just by my house?! Quelle horreur!

Jolly and bright houses in Brighton, England

Jolly and bright houses in Brighton, England

Anyhow, Columbia is very tidy and you rarely see a bit of litter, and that’s lovely, and people move here because it is safe and clean and wot not. BUT sometimes I feel like it is a little bit Desperate Housewives/Stepford Wives, with all the houses the same and not much personality and character exuding from some of the neighbourhoods. Admittedly, some of them are different and I see some people trying to make their mark and I like that. Old Ellicott City nearby, which is older as its name suggest, definitely has more charm and personality in its housing, but the rest is a big estate with big, new houses looking very much the same.

A typical Columbia house

A typical Columbia house

Each to their own. I loved walking through parts of New York and delighted at seeing the city houses – all a mishmash and full of colour and vibrancy – but I certainly appreciate living where I live at the same time.

There are rules with the Columbia Association – you don’t hang your washing out to dry (even tho this is VERY environmentally friendly), leave your battered old Chevy out, put up a fence or a trampoline without consent and you don’t make exterior alternations, full stop. Fair enough.

BUT – my ‘violation’ note stated that there was a ‘box and branches creating an eyesore’ on our grass outside the front of the house. How I laughed!

This ‘eyesore’ is actually Harry’s attempt at a tree house. It’s certainly not amazing, but he made it and loves it, and he plays in it and eats Roast Beef Monster Munch there, watching the world go by, and I love that he does that. Plus, do they know how much trouble I would be in if I even attempted to tidy that away?!

The offending tree house / eyesore sore

The offending tree house / eyesore

It made me smile, and then a bit sad. It was kind of like saying: please don’t let your children play in the front yard. I made a sarcastic (read as British) mental note to myself as a parent: allow no more creative, imaginative outside playing for six-year-old boys.

My status update about this event on Facebook generated a lot of comment – some people thought it was outrageous to get a comment a card about such a sweet little tree house effort and that it was pretty militant of the residents’ association; others kind of got that a violation is a violation, and commented that ‘If they let you keep the tree house, then the guy next door with pink painted Virgin Mary statues will have to be given a pass’.

I hear it all! But Harry and I have a plan because they are coming back to inspect that the ‘eyesore’ has been removed in a few weeks.

I explained that rules are rule to Harry, but we discussed how we might be able to keep the tree house, and it’s worth a try. Life lessons and all that!

This weekend Harry will be writing a note to the residents’ association making his case to keep the tree house. He will pose outside in his tree house, eating his Roast Beef Monster Munch for a series of pictures to show how he loves it. The pictures will show that he sits and reads there, that his friend Rachel stops by the chat to him, and that the cats come and lie next to him to pass the time of day. We will then pin the note and the pictures to the tree on the day the residents’ association returns…..

As my friend Bill declared: ‘Can’t wait to see how this one unfolds…..’ Wish us luck! 😉

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 353

Happy Gram

I received an email today from school asking if I want to send a Happy Gram.

A what? I know not what this is, but it has the word ‘happy’ in, so sure, I’ll take a look.

A Happy Gram: A small gesture is all it takes to put a smile on someone’s face and Send a Happy Gram is an easy way to brighten someone’s day. In just a few clicks, you can send a happy gram to anyone in the US.’

What is a Happy Gram? It’s simple, a sweet treat, and a thoughtful message, handwritten on a vintage inspired card – all in a brown paper package, tied up with string, delivered direct to their mailbox all without you having to step foot in a post office – isn’t that just lovely! :-)’

That would make me happy.

That would make me happy.

Yes, that is lovely, and to be honest, with this crappy old weather I almost contemplated sending one to myself.

I totally love the sentiment and it’s something I can see I would have used in the UK at work to cheer up my staff members when they were feeling blue because a) the fella’s been out drinking Stella, or b) they missed an episode of Sherlock, or c) they got an utter pasting in an executive meeting and they simply can’t go on with their day (look, I worked in PR – there was drama! 😉 ).

So, yes, I’ll have a Happy Gram delivered, please, if anyone is up to the task – but make mine a healthy treat, please!

Mom vs mum

There are many, many differences between parenting styles in the UK. We all do things differently, of course. Whatever works. However, I’ve noticed significant US and UK differences being on this side of the pond. Some things I like, and some things I am shaking my head, invariably muttering ‘WTF?’.

We Brit mums, when we meet up, do discuss the British and American cultural differences in parenting styles, and, let me tell you, those conversations can go on for hours over several hot cups of tea! And so, when asked about it by the lovely Miranda, I said, ‘yes, it is a topic very worthy of a tongue-in-cheek post’.

And so here, for your pleasure, is that very post. Enjoy parents everywhere!

This is me being a mum. And yes, I am sunbathing ;)

This is me being a mum. And yes, I am sunbathing 😉

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