Exciting news peeps…expatriate focussed website, Expat Focus, has published a little exposé on yours truly! ps…ok so the picture is supposed to be ‘inspiring’ – not many words in a blog post looked really uninteresting…enjoy!
We’ve reached that time of the year when it really does seem that I missed something in choosing to up-sticks and plonk myself here in Ol’ Blighty almost 7 years ago.
Back then, I was inspired by rich history, diverse and opinionated discussions with the locals (granted these were over a pint – them – and a few vinos – me), and being immersed in a centre-of-the-world economy and in-your-face multi-culturalism (would you believe that the catalyst for said move did actually say to me on our second meeting that Australians were really racist because he never saw any black people? He lives…just!)
Last year I was prepared for the onslaught of local mini-ghouls, thinking that the trek up the hill on little legs would be nothing in the face of prospective treats – only to have no-one show up, forcing me to eat a whole bag of mini-Malteser packs and bemoan my ensuing nausea and mild chocolate headache.
So this year, I’m taking a stand. I have prepared nothing and tonight, shall keep my door firmly closed to all ghostly comers whilst I stay safely inside, watching telly on the couch and eating naughty snacks to appease my guilty conscience.
Mainly because I forgot.
However, my little Christmas countdown widget-thingy has reliably informed me that there are only 56 sleeps to go (just in case you were wondering). So I promise to be better prepared for that…
I mentioned in a previous post that I’d been wondering what to spend some of my birthday money on and that I’d decided to invest in The Midlife Manual (plus a fab cookbook, but more about that later) via that portal of all things useful and wonderful, Amazon.co.uk.
Before I came to the UK, I was oblivious to the behemoth that is Amazon and it was only when I got the way the whole Wish List thing worked (and saw some of the terrifyingly large numbers on postage stickers from Australia) that I started to fall for its charms. It is quite simply the place to find everything…and collect a few Nectar points along the way (when one remembers to use their card!) and the Wish List is definitely the way to manage the tyranny of long distance gifting.
So on Thursday, Reception called to let me know that an Amazon parcel had been delivered for me. I could not wait to get downstairs and I gleefully tore the cardboard strip down the package to reveal two books that:
a) I’d ordered online 6 days earlier; and
b) knew were coming because I’d received an email to say they had been despatched the day before.
No surprises. No special gifts. Just exactly what I’d ordered.
The voice in my head (you know, the one in sensible shoes) tutted softly in the background at my impatient voracity in tearing the package open right there in Reception, while the other voice (the one in the ridiculously fabulous stilettos), purred contentedly as I entered the lift again, cradling The Midlife Manual and Fast, Fresh and Green possessively to my chest.
What is it about receiving an Amazon parcel that provokes such unadulterated joy and pleasure?
Over this August bank holiday weekend I have been indulging in something I haven’t done for a while – a jigsaw puzzle. I always used to do these as a kid on holidays so there’s something about doing this that’s intrinsically linked to holidays for me.
It’s also the perfect thing for cosying up inside and shutting out world (and some pretty ordinary weather – I think Summer might really be over!) and it’s kept me completely absorbed for a few hours over each of the last 2 days. So Friday night, I spread the puzzle roll mat out on the dining table, cracked open the bag of pieces and surrendered myself completely…
ps…BTW the puzzle roll thing that its on? Don’t trouble yourself with getting one- rolling it all up only produces frustration and disappointment as all the little pieces come apart again. That patent was a real waste of money…
For the first time in 5 years, I am back to the car-less status I held when I first arrived in the UK..and I had to do my first sans car grocery shop. The trouble is that now I have to plan my shop and stick to the list with considerable rigor as there are 3 important things to manage: My items fitting in the 2 shopping bags I take, the even distribution of their weight between the 2 bags and actually carrying said weight to the bus stop and then from the bus stop to home.
You see, the bus back up Kingston Hill is fine but that walk up the hill, down the hill and up the hill again to home is a killer at the best of times and if the shop has gone awry, well, it ain’t pretty! So today, I was ready with my small-ish, well-planned list and on the way, I knocked on J’s door to do the neighbourly thing and find out whether there was anything he wanted me to pick up for him.
Well…his few items grew and grew until his list WAS bigger than mine. But it still all looked do-able so off I set, list in hand…but milk, orange juice, pasta sauce and soup (just to name a few) are not exactly light so let’s just say there was a bit of mental f-ing and blinding going on as I walked from Sainsbury’s to the bus stop and from the bus stop to home.
Next time, I might stop being so bloody independent and ‘I can do it’ and get him to take me. We could have a date night at the supermarket! Or not…
We’ll see…
I have a secret…
…I love Wilkinson.
I really do.
For those who don’t know, this English high street discount store is just heaven on a penny. You can get everything from hair gel to garden seating, cutlery to carpet cleaner, stationery to home furnishings at bargain prices. I don’t go often but when I do, I get all overcome with ‘disco-unt’ fever and have this lovely warm glow afterwards as I gaze at my full-to-the-brim bags of super savings – here are just some of the things I could not resist today:
Some of the things I did resist included:
So today’s post is really a big ‘shout out’ to this British bastion of bargains…
…who were also the only place I could find to buy a hammer in Robert-Dyas-less Kingston (to put together my Ikea furniture together) when I first moved to the area…
Wilkos, what would I do without you!
As a result of my recent interview on Seen The Elephant, I seem to be tripping over a whole lot of blogs by travellers from all over the place who’ve stopped awhile. Some posts are interesting, others occur as a little irrelevant. And there are some that just hit the spot so sweetly I am sure that I must have been separated from the fellow blogger at birth.
This happened today when I read Marmite and Fluff, a blog about an English woman living in Connecticut, and her latest post about the language divide that occurs between your new country and your original homeland.
Upon arrival in the UK, one of the things that’s hardest to contend with is being misunderstood when you all seem to be speaking the same language in a literal sense. But as I’m here in the land of self-deprecating wit and ironic understatement, this part of my journey has unfolded with confusion, hilarity and not inconsiderable repartee. But there is one thing that still mystifies me.
I thought pants would be pants in any English-speaking country but the English begged to differ – oh how misguided I was. And just I as thought I’d managed to suss the snigger-worthy reference to outerwear as underwear (remembering that when I stood in a puddle, it was my trousers I got wet, not my pants), along came another eclectic English-ism.
It’s pants.
I know. IT’S NOT EVEN A SENTENCE.
Using it here essentially means that something is rubbish or crap. Let me illustrate by using it in context.
“The weather is (a bit) pants” is not some reference to climatic undergarments but a statement of disappointment or disapproval, usually when it’s raining, about the condition of the elements.
And I was reminded yet again of its laugh out loud absurdity when, as my Aussie-in-the-UK friend A dropped an “it’s pants” in front of her visiting-from-Oz mother, I giggled at the look of utter confusion on her face.
Marmite and Fluff quoted Sar-chasm as the giant gulf between the sarcastic comment and the person who doesn’t get it.
Personally, I think it’s just all a bit pants…
With yesterday’s birthday festivities done and dusted, the final day of my birthday-treat-to-myself, four-day weekend is well underway and I am indulging in a little delightful daytime telly, a few episodes of the ultimate combination of ego, pretentiousness and witty put-downs, Come Dine With Me. While I love passing vicarious judgement on the food, hosts, houses and guests at each weeknight dinner party, the best bit is definitely Dave Lamb, voice-over extraordinaire, who tracks the behind-the-scenes shenanigans both in and out of the kitchen.
I’ve just been laughing at Dave’s reaction to Night 1 (lamb’s testicles and a falling out – unrelated), Night 2 (speechlessly bad food, gifts of crystals and a truce – again unrelated), Night 3 (great food that nobody could pronounce and a falling out) and Night 4 (mackeral with a rhubarb & sorrel sauce and more falling out).
We are now at Night 5, the host of which has been the focus of Night 2 host’s righteous indignation – Night 2 host has just arrived before anyone else and she’s as frosty as a popsicle (and I am hoping her fellow diners are about to tell her exactly what she might do with it!)
Must go…I wouldn’t want to miss a moment!
ps…
In the meantime if you don’t believe how smugly funny this show is (I hear it’s made its way Down Under and Stateside), you can read a couple of other little snippets below (and yes the WAGs special was priceless).
pps…
N2 host caused so much friction at the table that N5 host asked her to have her dessert IN THE NEXT ROOM….LOL!
ppps…
364 sleeps to go…
Ha ha just kidding. Even I can’t sustain the interest, excitement or badgering for that long…
Why Come Dine With Me is a gem | Marina O’Loughlin (guardian.co.uk)
Well today I took my first step towards my official settlement here in the UK by passing the ‘Life in the UK’ test – 24 multiple choice questions over three quarters of an hour – which I managed to complete in about 5mins! Hooray for me…
Now all I have to do is collect 5 years of bank statements, document my travels in and out of the UK over the last 5 years – which is quite a lot given the travelling I’ve done for my various jobs – acquire two passport-sized photos (Sainsbury’s photo booth, here I come!), fill in the application form (19 pages), pay £820 and wait…
I have been feeling quietly nervous leading up to today’s test, in retrospect more than it seemed to warrant. But it is really unsettling to think that I’ve worked hard and built this wonderful life for myself here in the UK and my future here lies in someone else’s hands. Only time will tell I guess but let me just say that I will be so thrilled to get my ILR (Indefinite Leave to Remain) status sorted…
In order to submit my application next January for Unlimited Leave to Remain in the UK, I need to have passed the Life in the UK test which came in a few years ago for people wanting to permanently settle here. There’s a book to read (Life in the United Kingdom: A Journey to Citizenship) which I thought I’d get hold of early and read every so often over the year. This was always my study pattern at school/uni too – never was a great ‘crammer’ so if I didn’t know it by a few days before the exam, I had no hope!
I started reading last night and found that the history part is really interesting. I’ve heard of most of the things/people mentioned ie. signing of the Magna Carta at Runnymede, the Battle of Hastings in 1066, Oliver Cromwell, Boudicca and the Iceni etc. but had no real idea of the course of history and how these all fitted in. Given I love reading history, this is actually turning out to be more engrossing than I thought…
…no sign of daffodil blooms yet but the buds are getting yellower and I count five ready to blossom in my pot (a significant increase on last year’s one) as well as three ‘wild’ ones on the edge of the path.
Gidday from the UK 