No ice cream here

And why would one expect ice cream at a winery? Well, the ice cream store is right next to this door, and the door leads to the winery which is actually upstairs. Obviously, they have had many people head into the winery thinking that they were going into the ice cream store.

Allis without a tent (Camping part two)

Last summer we decided that we would take a family camping vacation. I had been camping with DH before - with a tent, but without access to facilities like toilets. Not a particularly fun experience, mostly because answering the call of nature in the woods inevitably meant mosquito bites in unmentionable areas So you can perhaps understand why I was doubtful about taking a family camping vacation, especially when DH said we would rent a 'lean-to', and that we would not need a tent. I had no idea what a 'lean-to' was but it sounded primitive and not particularly fun.

We stayed at Allis State Park in Vermont. Turning off the main road (relative term) to get to it, you get the distinct impression that, despite the signpost, you must have made a wrong turn because you drive through what is very clearly a farmyard. Allis is at the top of a mountain, at the end of a dirt road. The park is almost 500 acres of land and the campsite is a very small portion of it. There are only 26 campsites altogether, so if the camp was full there might be as many as 100 people there. There weren't. I think there were two or three other families there the whole time we were there. One night we were the only guests. Given the size of the bathroom facilities, I was very glad there weren't more people there. In the women's room there were two toilets, two sinks (with a sign above reminding people NOT to wash dishes in them), and one coin-operated shower. No dish-washing or clothes-washing sinks, as at the campsites in France!

As it turned out, I was quite impressed by the lean-to and ended up not needing the tent that I had secretly packed in the car. A lean-to is a far more solid structure than its name implies. It's like a very large, extremely solidly constructed, garden shed that is open on one side. The site we rented also included a large wooden picnic table and benches, and a fire-pit.


There was also a beautiful view, included at no extra charge.




We set up a tarpaulin as a canopy over the picnic table which we had moved right in front of the lean-to. At night we dropped the tarpaulin down to add a slight degree of privacy. The front of our lean-to faced away from the rest of the campsite though, so even if it had been fuller, there was plenty of privacy even without the tarp. (The grassy area in the photo below was all part of 'our' site, and the rocks in the photo above were behind me in this one.) Previous visitors over the years had banged nails into the structure at convenient spots and we used those. We strung a rope across the front of the lean-to and used that to hang towels on so they could dry.



The weather was rather cool, especially being at the top of a mountain, so it was quite chilly at night. It did mean there were no bugs though, hence no need at all for the tent I had packed.

Despite the name of the location - Bear Mountain - we saw no bears, or evidence of them. We were awakened every morning, however, by the squirrels trying to get into our cooler and the kitchen box. Vermin! We had to clean their pee and poop off the picnic table before we could have breakfast! (Never had that problem in France, where the table was always inside the tent all night. Occasionally in France we had the kitchen set up outside, but we didn't leave food out there, so no problems with animals trying to eat it.)

Every evening before we went to bed at Allis, we made a ritual walk to the dumpsters to throw all our trash out. DH taught us that it was a good idea to kick the side of the dumpster before throwing anything into it - he said it was better than surprising a critter like a raccoon who would then not be very friendly!

So despite my reservations about going camping without a tent with the man who likes camping in the snow, I enjoyed it and (more importantly) the kids did too. DH may camp without a tent but it's not the primitive camping I imagined it would be. (You still won't catch me going camping in New England in January though, with or without a tent!)

Happy birthday to me!

DH gave me a very thoughtful birthday present tonight - two Lexan wine glasses to take camping with us! The stem detaches to make it easier to pack them, and they should last us many years as they are supposedly "nearly indestructible".

Note to self: remember the corkscrew when packing!

The nature of fear

Is this a scary picture?

Believe it or not, for a long time as a child, I was scared of daffodils!


DD sat and watched two episodes of Dr Who with me last night . I remember watching Dr Who as a child and being terrified by it. She watched cybermen, Daleks and disappearing children and loved it. On the other hand, every time the ads came on for the next show - Robin Hood - she put her hands over her eyes and refused to watch. Apparently men in tights with archery equipment are much scarier than aliens.


It makes sense though. The thing I was most frightened by in Dr Who was the daffodils. There were what were probably aliens looking like rotund, jolly men selling daffodils. When people got the daffodils home and went to sniff them, the daffodils sprayed plastic on their face. It stopped them from breathing and they died. I was terrified of daffodils for years afterwards. The aliens, the Daleks, the cybermen, were clearly not real, and therefore not scary. The daffodils and the men in tights with bows and arrows are real, and therefore much more threatening.

Are Time Lords British?

The article Are Time Lords British? on the BBC site today is more about accents than the question of whether Time Lords are really British.

Accents clearly matter to the way we see people because we think they tell us something about their upbringing and influences. Geographical accident of birth seems less influential than the values and social background we interpret from the way they speak.

The author is surprised that John Barrowman's American accent disappears when he is talking to his parents, to be replaced by the Glaswegian accent of his childhood. DH wouldn't be at all surprised by that as he's often heard my accent change. The author comments:

We all do it a bit, I suspect. Chameleon-like, we change our tone slightly to fit in with our surroundings.

Of course, if your British accent is changing to another British accent and you're still in the UK, it's not particularly noticeable. Change your accent to a 'foreign' accent, and it stands out like a sore thumb.

as Barrowman's voice changed to broad Glaswegian, I couldn't help myself seeing the actor in a different way. Even though he describes himself quite correctly as a British actor, his Illinois intonation is perplexing. Despite the illogicality of the argument, something inside me suggests he can't be properly "British" with a voice like that.

By that standard, despite their British passports, I doubt anyone in the UK will ever consider my children 'properly' British. I don't think I am anymore either . . .


POSTSCRIPT
Commenter Emjay mentioned Jeremy Clarkson's article from today's Sunday Times on exactly this topic of accents.

According to the scholars, you can zigzag across America for a year and encounter only four different accents (I find that a bit hard to believe, but whatever). In Britain you can drive for just one day and each time you stop for petrol, the cashier will sound different. It’s Punjabi in the morning, Hindi at lunchtime and Tamil in the evening.

He's far more entertaining than I am on the subject!

. . . when the world finally realises French, German and, yes, even Mandarin Chinese have no place in a modern English-speaking world, we can continue to have our national, and indeed regional, differences highlighted every time we open our mouths to order a McDonald’s.

Camping (part one)

When I was growing up, we regularly went camping on our summer holidays. I'm sure my parents would have quite liked to stay in hotels, but with three children and long summer holidays because they were both teachers, camping was the affordable option. It allowed us to spend 5 weeks at a time in continental Europe. Most summers we spent the whole five weeks in France. One summer we started out in the Netherlands, traveled across Europe to northern Italy, and back to Belgium.

DH (an avid camper and Eagle Scout) had a hard time understanding at first when I tried to explain about the camping we did in Europe. He's the kind of guy who goes camping when there's several feet of snow on the ground and WITHOUT a tent just for the fun of it!

My descriptions of our camping trips seemed to leave him confused. A tent with a bedroom, a kitchen inside it and room for a table?

1 Bedroom 2 Kitchen Area 3 Bedroom 4 Bedroom 5 Living Area

Campsites with hot showers? Campsites where fresh bread was delivered every morning? Camping in vineyards or the grounds of a château? Evening meals that took several hours to prepare and just as long to eat?

We had a large frame tent, with an inner tent that was the bedroom area. The outer tent area had room for a stove, a table and stools, and storage for things that didn't fit in the inner tent. There were large windows with curtains, and the entire front of the tent could be opened up in the daytime. It was mostly very civilized, especially when we went camping with our friends.

Their dad was a professional chef. During the day as we were sight-seeing, we would check out the menus posted outside the restaurants and he would tell us which dishes he could prepare on the 4 gas burners and two grills ('broilers') we had between us. Then we'd go food shopping. After a cup of tea and perhaps a slice of fruit cake on our return to the campsite in the late afternoon, he would start work preparing dinner. He cooked most of the evening meals on condition that we were his commis-chefs doing any prep-work he asked us to and he NEVER did any dishes. I remember many an evening staggering off to the toilet block to do the dishes long after the lights on the campsite were out, relying on the moonlight to find our way there and back. Over the course of a five week trip we would eventually break several of the real wine glasses we had brought with us and (horror of horrors) resort to drinking wine out of plastic 'glasses'. (Looking at the few photos I have and realizing that sometimes we bought wine in plastic bottles, I don't think drinking such cheap plonk out of plastic could have been particularly detrimental!) Eventually we discovered Arcoroc tumblers at a French hypermarket. They are made of glass, but they seem to bounce most of the time when they hit the ground! I think eventually we graduated to a slightly better class of vin de table too.

It was not exactly 'camping sauvage', we weren't roughing it, but it wasn't the lap of luxury either. We didn't have a fridge, as the rental tents in France do nowadays. Back then, I don't remember a single site that we stayed at ever having a washing machine and dryer, although I do remember one where there was an iron you could use. There were usually several sets of sinks though - shallow sinks for washing dishes, very deep sinks with built-in washboards for washing clothes, and sinks for washing people. The last were usually indoors, the others outdoors. Depending on the location, there was sometimes a sink designated for gutting fish.

We often stayed at sites where hot water cost extra. In that case, we would heat water on the stove for doing dishes. There was one site in the Netherlands where there was no hot water at all, not even for showers. We stayed there for several days, and I vividly remember the searing headache I got when I finally gave in and washed my hair in the seemingly ice-cold water.

Thinking of 'bathrooms' as Americans call them, many campsites had the 'squat' ('Turkish') toilets. They should have been really easy to keep clean with a high-pressure hose. Unfortunately, we found that when there were lots of people at the site who were unused to them, they were often disgusting. They were usually at their cleanest when we were the only foreigners on the entire campsite.

Although our vacations were not entirely stress-free, certainly not for my parents who did so much of the work and particularly during our teenage years when we were being obnoxious, I have wonderful memories of them. I hope my kids will have good memories of camping with us, but camping with DH is a little different. Remember, he likes camping in the snow with no tent . . .

How not to sound American

The BBC has an article today on how to sound American. Apparently I've been doing it all wrong for the last 23 years. People in the UK seem to be fooled though as they always think I'm American, even when I'm doing my best to sound English again. Americans aren't so sure, as they often ask me if I'm from Australia or New Zealand. I suppose, given my job, I really should work at perfecting my American accent - teaching newcomers to the United States how to speak English! (Of course, I always joke that they had to hire a Brit to teach 'proper' English!)

In the comments on the BBC article, someone noted that English people trying to do an American accent often put on a Southern American accent. For some reason my Dear Daughter often sounds like a Southerner. I have never particularly noticed her sounding English in the first place though - after all, she was born here and has spent relatively little time in the UK. Maybe the Southern accent is her overcompensating in trying to make sure she sounds really American? Is she imitating my accent?

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland   "You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.
Philadelphia
The South
The West
The Inland North
Boston
The Northeast
North Central
What American accent do you have? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

No, apparently not, so she's probably just imitating some character on TV!

Simon's Cat - TV dinner

DH likes the Simon's Cat videos - he thinks the cat is cute. I like the Simon's Cat videos too. I think they show the true nature of the feline species.

This blog is rated . . .

Back in February, my blog was rated family friendly:


Now apparently my blog is rated PG:

Why? Mostly because of this article about roadworks, but also because I wrote about getting sick from eating at KFC in Taipei! (Offending words: crack and torture.)

I guess that's why ratings systems are only guides. My kids are still terrified by some G rated Disney-type movies, but for some reason find Torchwood fascinating and will hide outside the room while we're watching it so they can watch it too!

Time For Some Campaignin'

I had this blogpost scheduled to post tonight and then found that Gaby of Bloody Brilliant had beaten me to it. I do like JibJab!

Chocolate for blood

Well, yes, I may indeed have chocolate for blood given my love for chocolate, but I'm talking bribes here . . .

The Red Cross is offering chocolate in exchange for blood donations. No, I don't know how much chocolate they're offering, or even what quality. (It's not that I'm not interested because my blood is mostly chocolate in the first place, but because, irritatingly, they won't take blood from Mad Cows like me!) Would it be worth donating blood if I could just for a couple of ounces of milk chocolate of inferior quality? Yes, of course! Not because any chocolate is better than none, but because it is simply A Good Thing To Do! I do hope this works and brings them lots of new volunteers who become regulars once they realize how easy it is to do!

The photo is courtesy of DH who saw the sign on his way to work and thought of me!

Curved grades

I am grateful that my entire degree result depended on the exams I did at the end of my final year when I 'd finally figured out that being a student was a full-time job and I needed to work at it. Had I been an undergraduate in the United States, my all-important grade-point-average (GPA) would have been so far in the toilet by the end of my second year, I probably would have dropped out. Or maybe not.

An average passing grade in a university class at the time in the UK was between 50 and 60%. When I arrived in the United States and started teaching undergraduate classes here, I frightened my first class by awarding what I thought were OK grades for their first assignment. Then I was told by my department head that my class average should be 80%. I was stunned - I thought 70 was an excellent grade! Many of my students asked me when they got less than 80% if I would 'curve' my grades.

I guess that was pretty common in maths and science classes where sometimes the class average was 40%. Rather than berate the students for not having studied, the teacher would assume that the test had been too hard and adjust the average. I'm not entirely sure how they did that - I think some teachers had a rather more complicated approach than "The average is 60, so I'll add 20 to everyone's score." My students sometimes accused me of being unfair because I didn't 'curve'. Some didn't want to accept my concept of "You get what you get." Once I got used to the inflated grading standards, I found I really didn't have to do that anyway. The average in my classes almost always hovered around 80% with no jiggery-pokery on my part. There would be a few A's, a few D's or F's, but the average would almost always be in the range of 79 to 81 - a B minus. I'm not quite sure how I did that, but it just happened.

My last teaching job (before this one) I didn't have to give grades at all. I did for one project and it was amazing how freaked out the students were. They had no idea whether I was a 'tough' or 'easy' grader or what they had to do to please me. Umm - follow the (four pages of step-by-step) directions! They didn't believe me when I said it was perfectly possible, but extremely unlikely, for everyone to get an A.

Does my butt . . .

DH walked into the room and asked, "Does my butt look flat in these jeans?"

Crack sealing

I had never realized before this week that they do so much of this that they need special signs for it, as opposed to signs that just say "Road work ahead"!

Bunnies

Torn between the delight of watching the wild rabbits in the garden and the annoyance of seeing said wild rabbits eating my plants, I realize I need a new camera with a better telephoto lens!

The Post American World and the Future of Freedom

I have a book on hold at the local library - The Post American World and the Future of Freedom by Fareed Zakaria. I'm not holding my breath, as it appears 27 other people have put the book on hold too! If the author's talk at the Commonwealth Club of California is anything to go by, it will be a very interesting read. He speaks of Americans' lack of awareness of what is going on outside their borders, and of how the balance of economic power has shifted over the past few years. He is extremely articulate and to summarize his talk here would not do him justice. Here's an extract from his book:

Look around. The world's tallest building is in Taipei, and will soon be in Dubai. Its largest publicly traded company is in Beijing. Its biggest refinery is being constructed in India. Its largest passenger airplane is built in Europe. The largest investment fund on the planet is in Abu Dhabi; the biggest movie industry is Bollywood, not Hollywood. Once quintessentially American icons have been usurped by the natives. The largest Ferris wheel is in Singapore. The largest casino is in Macao, which overtook Las Vegas in gambling revenues last year. America no longer dominates even its favorite sport, shopping. The Mall of America in Minnesota once boasted that it was the largest shopping mall in the world. Today it wouldn't make the top ten. In the most recent rankings, only two of the world's ten richest people are American. These lists are arbitrary and a bit silly, but consider that only ten years ago, the United States would have serenely topped almost every one of these categories.

These factoids reflect a seismic shift in power and attitudes. It is one that I sense when I travel around the world. In America, we are still debating the nature and extent of anti-Americanism. One side says that the problem is real and worrying and that we must woo the world back. The other says this is the inevitable price of power and that many of these countries are envious—and vaguely French—so we can safely ignore their griping. But while we argue over why they hate us, "they" have moved on, and are now far more interested in other, more dynamic parts of the globe. The world has shifted from anti-Americanism to post-Americanism.

If the topic is at all interesting to you, you can buy or borrow his book, read an excerpt online or download the free podcast of his talk at the Commonwealth Club here.

Apparently Zakaria has a show on CNN on Sundays and I think I might make the effort to watch it.

A degree of inflation

When I was an undergraduate (back in the early 1980's) a First Class degree was nigh on impossible to get. It was somewhat easier in the sciences or maths, but in a language - forget about it! How did the joke go? Something along the lines of, only truly outstanding students would ever earn over 70%, the professor who wrote the exam might be able to score 80%, but only God could get over 90%. In my department, an average on your finals of 60% or above earned you an upper second class degree, over 70% was a First. If you scored over 70% (or it may have been 80% - I no longer remember) on the final oral exam, it was noted in your degree result that you passed the oral exam "With Distinction."

No one in my department had earned a First in seven years, but we knew that Mike would get one. He was absolutely brilliant! His year-abroad dissertation read more like a Master's thesis. If anyone was going to get a First, Mike would. He didn't. We were given times for our oral exam, and told to report half an hour BEFORE the exam in order to prepare. Mike arrived early, only to find that in fact he had left himself only 15 minutes to prepare. Even he couldn't do himself justice. Although I'm sure his average on the written papers was easily a First, he was not awarded one because he did not pass the oral exam "With Distinction". In talking to the professors after the results were announced, one of them made the comment that it didn't really matter if Mike got a First or not - he was very clearly headed for a doctorate and once he had that no one would ever ask what his undergraduate degree result was.

Sure enough, Mike went on to earn his doctorate, become a published academic, and teach at the university level. Several years ago though, he quit academia. I remember that somewhere amongst his reasons, was the dumbing down of the curriculum, so it did not surprise me to read today:

The number of students achieving a first class degree at UK universities has more than doubled since the mid-1990s.

Among last year's university leavers, 61% achieved a first class or upper second class degree.

An upper second used to mean that your performance was above average! How can 61% of university leavers be above average? Twelve years ago, only 45% of university leavers had an upper second or a first. The sad thing is that this appears to be happening because Universities want students to like them. They think that if they become known for giving good grades, more students will want to go there. I was very happy with my undergraduate education. The fact that I earned an upper second class honours degree with Distinction in the oral exam, does not change my degree of satisfaction with the university. (Yes, on paper I did better than Mike, but I will always be honest about the fact that he was a FAR better student than I was.) Believe it or not, the fact that I was given a Dean's Warning (A Bad Thing!) at the end of both my first and second years, is what makes me happy with the education I received. After the second one I was asked to consider whether I really thought I was 'degree material'. I was not simply allowed to pass because I'd got in to uni. in the first place. It was made extremely clear to me that if I wanted a degree, let alone a decent one, I was going to have to work for it. That was probably the most valuable lesson I learned in my undergraduate years, and is one I have applied to many situations since then. Of course nowadays, no one ever asks me even at a job interview what my degree result was, but I am proud of the degree I earned and I am saddened at the thought that today's students are being denied the chance to earn something of value.

Driving from Sydney to Boston

"These directions are for planning purposes only. You may find that construction projects, traffic, or other events may cause road conditions to differ from the map results."

Similar directions are available for all the locations I tried in Australia - Alice Springs, Tasmania . . . Note that if you start your trip in Australia, the distances are measured in kilometers, but if you start in the USA they are measured in miles. I suspect, like the driving from New York to London directions that I blogged about some time ago, these too will disappear before long. At least this time they suggest that you should kayak across the ocean rather than swim!

Seeing in color

When I was in graduate school here in the United States, I dated an African American for a short period of time. I was absolutely furious when we had an argument and he then accused me of not understanding him "because he was black". He was absolutely right, I didn't understand him - but it had nothing to do with the colour of his skin. I had had similar misunderstandings/arguments with white boyfriends, and the Iranian I lived with when I was living in France. It had everything to do with the fact that we had been brought up in different places, and to my mind using the color of his skin as an explanation was racist on his part.

It is too easy to explain differences of attitude as racial when in fact they are cultural or personal. There are people of other skin tones I have no desire to associate with, but it does NOT mean I am racist. There are many white people I would not want to associate with - am I racist because I don't like their values? (Prejudiced? Yes. Racist? No!)

My maternal grandmother lived for many years in South Africa and although she tried hard, the racism of the white South Africans rubbed off on her. When she had a dark tan (which she worked very hard at getting), with her dark curly hair and dark eyes, she did not look 100% white herself. I am sure she never realized that, but it made a great impression on me. If it was so difficult to tell someone's race, then what was the point in judging someone by the color of their skin? The chairperson of the African American studies department at Harvard recently found out that genetically he is 50% white. He and his family were stunned! I just don't see the point in deciding in advance if you are going to like someone or not based on the way they look. Of course we all do make snap judgements - not just looking at skin color, but the way people dress or the way they sound. It doesn't make it right, but neither does it make it right to accuse me of racism when I decide that I don't like someone because of who they are as a person.

I am delighted that both my kids are in classes that, although not as diverse as I would like, are not 100% white. Already it is clear that neither of them really understands why anyone would be racist. They are way ahead of me at the same age as I grew up in a town where there was precisely one adult who was not white! It took me many, many, years before I was comfortable talking to people of other races and not constantly thinking that they were somehow different.

My biggest eye-opener was the summer I lived in Taiwan when I truly experienced what it is like to be one of the minority. I lived with a Taiwanese family, I took the bus to work every day, and I taught in a Taiwanese school. For days on end the only Europeans I saw were at a distance in the restaurant at the Lai-Lai Sheraton as my bus stopped outside it. I went through all the usual stages of culture shock even though I knew what to expect. I loved Taiwan, I hated Taiwan, I slept too much . . . I remember one day I went out for lunch with some Taiwanese acquaintances. We went to KFC. For them it was a treat. For me it was torture. It made me violently ill, in a way Taiwanese food never did at any point in my stay. Shortly after lunch I was suddenly absolutely desperate to get to a toilet - preferably clean and with toilet paper, though at that point I wasn't fussy. My friends thought fast and recommended we get off the bus we were on at the next stop as there was a McDonalds. That was one place where I was guaranteed there would be toilet paper. After I was done being ill (for the moment at least), I washed my face as well as my hands because I was sweating profusely. When I looked up at myself in the mirror I realised how sick I really was as my eyes were a strange shape - they were round!

It took me several minutes to realize there was nothing wrong with my eyes. I simply hadn't seen any Western eyes in weeks, there being no mirror in the bathroom at the apartment where I was staying. If being in the minority for only a few weeks made me feel as though I had something wrong with me when I looked in the mirror, I could barely begin to imagine the effects of years of not seeing people like myself . . .

I began writing this post months ago, before the American presidential race had narrowed itself down to two candidates. Clearly race will be an issue for many people when they vote this year. I wish it weren't. I am confident that my decision will be based on who I think will do the best job and not on the race of the candidates. Hopefully within my lifetime race will no longer be an issue in these elections - or gender either!

Visited states

create your own personalized map of the USA

Over 20 years and this is all I've managed to visit? Pathetic really, especially as 'Florida' really means not much more than Orlando, and 'California' was San Francisco and Lassen National Park.

Still, I remember teaching a college student who told me that at the age of 19 she had never left her home state. She was about to spend a semester in Spain. I never did find out how she did, but I bet the culture shock was amazing!

Chocolate in my cupboard

Yes, there is too much chocolate in my house. In addition to all the chocolate in the photo in my last post, there is a ten POUND bar of chocolate in the basement . . . The good news (for my hips) is that that very large bar of chocolate, which was a present from some relatives at least 3 years ago is still untouched. Well, it's not dark chocolate, so what's the point? You'll notice that all the chocolate on 'my' shelves in the cupboard is dark chocolate. (The top shelf is DH's and I truly would not dream of taking any of his chocolate. The shelf in the other cupboard with the chips/crisps is another matter!)

The bad news is that since we got married I have put on just over 30 pounds. When I got pregnant with DS, I weighed 5 pounds more than I do now. However, this time last year (when I hated my job and was on antidepressants to make it through each day) I weighed 20 pounds less than I do now. I could blame my weight gain on DH's wonderful cooking, but it's simply a case of too many calories and too little exercise. When I was in my twenties I worked at a boarding school where I was actually paid to do an hour's exercise every day!

Much as I would hate to be working the kind of hours I put in back then, the idea of being paid, indeed being required, to exercise is rather nice. It seems so hard now with a husband and kids and a full-time job to find time to work out. I specifically remember running five miles one Friday afternoon with the kids (which for me was a very long run) and deciding I wasn't done yet, so I headed off to an hour-long Jazzercize class. I was very aware of the effect it had not only on my weight, but also on my health. My cholesterol dropped from 350 to 240 without medication, I was much less moody, and I had no trouble at all keeping my weight down. For a very brief period I was an American size 5, but fortunately for me my love of food outweighed my love of exercise as a size 5 is not a healthy size for me to be.

I thought I was being so American back then, so conscious of my fitness and my weight. I went to an aerobics class when I was back in the UK and was not impressed - they actually stood still between the songs, whereas in Jazzercize we never stopped moving. Now I'm the other kind of American - the overweight kind :-(

I made a small move in the right direction last weekend - I bought a bike. I wouldn't ride my bike on the roads around here, but we have a nice park nearby where I could ride my bike with the kids and there are some rail trails not too far away too. DH has a bike rack for his car, but I may need to get one for mine too. Unfortunately that will entail getting a towing hitch installed and, having just bought the bike, my budget is shot for now!


I also need to make more use of my YMCA membership than just walking around in the small, warm, pool when we take the kids swimming on a Sunday morning. DD had a swimming class last Saturday and I swam in the lane next to her. After 4 lengths of the pool I was out of breath and feeling, quite frankly, knackered. I made myself keep going though, figuring that so long as I was moving it was better than sitting on the side of the pool watching her. By the time her lesson was over, I was actually sorry to get out. Unfortunately, that was her last class until the fall and without the incentive of swimming alongside her during class I probably won't swim very much over the summer.

I 'only' have 30 or 35 pounds to lose. Having been reading some other blogs recently where people are documenting their efforts to lose over 100 it made me realize that if they can do that (and many have, and kept it off) then surely I can lose a mere 30?! Thanks to bloggers like Sharon for motivating me to get started again - now I have to get on with it.

Wordless Wednesday

More to follow on this topic . . .

What time of day are you?

So, what time of day are you?

Underground drinking

I had never really thought about whether drinking was allowed on the Tube or not. I've never really spent that much time in London. I'm used to the idea of drinking alcohol on trains though - on the way from The North to London and back there was usually a choice of some kind of alcohol on the train in addition to coffee and tea. Over here, it's a very obvious no-no to drink alcohol on public transportation. I'm not sure if that's the case in every state of the union, but it wouldn't surprise me - the puritanical attitude seems pretty pervasive - or is the no 'open-containers' law just a New England thing? Is it a symptom of my Americanisation that it seems normal to me not to allow the drinking of alcohol on trains or buses?

It truly does surprise me though that British journalists seemed surprised that the 'last night' of drinking on the Tube got out of hand. What on earth did they expect?





Images from the Daily Mail's report on the evening.

I'm the greatest (maybe)

DH says I am often too self-deprecating and that I lack self-confidence. I tell him that it is a cultural thing. Remind him that I grew up in the UK, and our attitudes there were different. Lucy Kelleher wrote a good article on this phenomenon:

When I was a child, we were taught never to boast. For a start it was bad manners. If you went around saying I got 97% in my algebra test, you made the dunderhead who only got 23% feel even more wretched than he was feeling already. To boast was to let your achievements get out of proportion, and it clashed with that very English idea that everything had to be effortless. Trying was fine - so long as no one caught you at it.

I remember a family friend who used to visit our house. My parents would tell us how clever he was and marvel at the way he wore his intelligence so lightly. The great thing about him wasn't that he was brilliant, but that he hid it so well that no one would have ever suspected that there was anything special about him at all.

I didn't question this attitude until I went to university and took up with an American boyfriend. He looked a bit like Oscar Wilde - which pleased me. Yet what pleased me less was the way he used to tell me that his doctorate thesis on the economy of communist China was an important piece of work. It wasn't that I doubted that it was good. I was just mortified that he felt the need to tell me. Looking back I suspect he wasn't a particularly boastful person. He was just American, and so his mother had never told him that he must hide his light under a bushel at all times.

I thought I had learned to boast like an American quite nicely not long after my arrival here. I applied for a job that I was sure I was a shoo-in for. I didn't get it. One of the committee members was nice enough to tell me that a major reason why I didn't get the job was because I was TOO confident. Apparently, I sounded so confident that I came across as condescending and arrogant. Interestingly, a Kenyan friend who did get hired by the same committee reassured me that it was a cultural misunderstanding - "You just sounded too British." So his perception of the British was that we came across as overly confident . . . exactly the perception that many British people have of Americans! The experience traumatized me and ever since then I've been paranoid, afraid to admit that I know when I'm good at something. I get the job, but then wonder if I only got it because I was too good at bluffing my way in. Can I really do it? When are they going to discover that I'm a fraud?

At a recent meeting with other people in my field, the meeting facilitator made the point that if we don't toot our own horn, if we don't constantly remind people of what we are doing, we will be perceived as doing nothing. So, despite my lack of self-confidence, I will be doing just that, and trying to convince my colleagues that they can't do without me (even though I know they could replace me at the drop of a hat!)

Tupperware

I hadn't been to a Tupperware party in over ten years and now I've been to two in as many weeks, and I'm having one of my own next week. Tupperware is still Tupperware - all the old faithfuls are still there. Some new colours of course. There are a few new pieces that don't look like traditional Tupperware:
and some others that are probably not new but I was never interested in them before. One piece of Tupperware I'd quite like is not available in the US though - Tupperware in the UK sells a bread box.

Given that I had already booked a Tupperware party of my own, Ann invited me to hers with the encouragement that she really didn't expect me to buy anything, but I might as well come over and socialize. She explained that it was going to be a Tupperware 'cocktail party'. DH dropped me off at 4, with the expectation that I would call him when I was ready to come home, probably around 6. Well, there was red wine, rather a lot of champagne, cosmopolitans . . . and I think it was gone 7 when I suddenly realized my own children were in the room. DH had given up waiting and had come to fetch me. Of course then my kids started playing with Ann's kids, and the mothers all wanted to know what was up with DH's strange posture, and it was gone 8 by the time we left and the children still hadn't had dinner!

The next morning I got an email from Ann:

Had fun yesterday... very glad you could join us. But I fear there's something inherently wrong about being slightly hung-over after a Tupperware party!

Happy Birthday DH!

bAs I was writing the previous post, DH came into the room and told me he was going to bed and wanted some help taking his clothes off . . . He added that he'd also like me to make him a sandwich with some chips and get him a large bottle of beer from the basement and bring those upstairs.

Today is his 40th birthday. Unfortunately the above was not a suggestion to celebrate, nor was it an attempt to show off that he's not so old . . . DH came home early from work today because he'd done his back in. Again. He headed straight for the painkillers and asked me to get the TENS machine for him. I bought it at Boots in the UK years ago in the hope that it might help with labour pains, but never needed it and DH has used it more than I have. The first time DH did his back in (by sneezing!) we would have had to call an ambulance to get him to the doctor's if we hadn't had the TENS machine. Good thing we had it - you can't get one here in the US without a prescription.

The card I bought DH had the following text:

TURNING 40?
Listen to your mind say: You're young! You're vibrant! You can do anything a 20 year-old can do!

Then listen to your body say: Ha! Ha! Ha!

And then on the back of the card was printed:

Hey, why aren't you laughing?

A couple of weeks ago we had a get together with lots of DH's friends, some of whom he's known since he was five years old. I decided we should get a birthday cake and celebrate a little early. The children decided that if it was a birthday cake it definitely needed candles. Hmm . . . well, we got the candles, and despite the smoke did NOT set the smoke alarm off!



(Image courtesy of Jenn.)

The little bloggers!

Back in February, DD decided that she wanted a blog of her own. It seemed as though it would be a good way to get her to improve her writing, so I set one up for her. She is very enthusiastic about it, though she does not always follow through and write blog posts about all the things she decides are 'bloggable'.

My brother in the UK has set up a blog for my niece too, and it is interesting to see what she blogs about. There are some nice intercultural exchanges going on as we share stories from our lives. We hear from my brother and sister more often now that we have yet another way to communicate.

Last Saturday DS and I saw a bear in the backyard. Later, as we were going somewhere in the car he was still babbling with excitement about the bear. I was only half listening at first, but then suddenly I heard him say, "I'll have to write about the bear on my blog."

"Blog? You don't have a blog!"

"But I need one so I can write about the bear!"

So I set the blog up, and in the first two days he dictated three posts. He had a little difficulty understanding how it worked at first. We posted one story about the bear, and then he wanted to add to it later. I explained we could do that, but seeing as Aunty England had already read his first post, we should probably just write a second one. He wasn't too sure about that. He also didn't understand at first that he could actually write about things other than the bear. Nor did he grasp the concept of the interface being the same for his blog and for mine when creating posts, so he threw a hissy fit when he saw me writing a post for my blog as he thought I was changing his blog.

So both kids now have blogs and we're a four blog household. Their blogs are open by invitation only, but I am still teaching them to be very careful about what they post on them. No real names, and we think carefully about what photos we use.

And to think it wasn't that many years ago that my brother and I could not even send each other email because the systems we were on didn't 'talk' to each other! Now I have a variety of email addresses for different purposes. When I say we're going to call grandma, the kids automatically head for the computer rather than the phone, assuming I mean we're going to use Skype. They want the instant gratification of a reply to an email the same or the next day, not a letter a couple of weeks later. They ask if we can scan their artwork to send it to grandma, and they expect responses to their blog postings within the hour! Although their computer use is limited (no Club Penguin or Webkins) compared to some of their peers who already have unlimited internet access from computers in their bedrooms (disasters waiting to happen), they are still very firmly a part of the digital generation.

What was the best decision you ever made?

David asks: "What was the best decision you ever made?" The most influential decision I ever made, which in a very long roundabout way led to the best one I ever made fourteen years later, was many years ago. I'll keep the story short:

I was at university in the UK. I was not a great one for going out to nightclubs, but for some reason when some blokes came around selling tickets for a Cricket Club dance at a local nightclub, I was determined to go. I convinced some friends to go too, pointing out that the blokes selling the tickets were very good-looking and there were going to be more of them at the dance. My friends wondered what had got into me that I actually wanted to go to a nightclub, but agreed that we would all go. This despite the fact that it was on a Wednesday night, and I usually turned into a pumpkin on weeknights by 10:30 p.m.

So we went. I didn't meet any nice men from the Cricket Club. I did, however, end up dancing all evening with T. from the Boston University Rugby Club.

We ended up writing to each other after he returned to the United States, and the following summer I flew over here to visit him. My first visit to the United States! I had a nice visit, though it was clear by the end of it that the romantic relationship wasn't going to go anywhere, he was a good person to have as a friend. He was already looking ahead to when he would graduate from BU, and planning where he would go to graduate school - preferably somewhere overseas. This was a revelation to me. I had never thought of going to graduate school, nor of studying abroad to get an actual qualification, despite the fact that I was about to spend a year in France for my undergraduate degree. I spent a lot of time thinking about that over the next couple of years, and eventually ended up applying to an American university to do a Master's degree. (No language problem, sorta, and they funded me!)

Had I not made the decision to go to that dance, I would never have met T., would never have visited Boston, and in all likelihood would never have considered coming to the US to study. It's amazing to think that I can pinpoint so precisely the first in a long chain of decisions that led me to life here in the US and the best decision I ever made - to marry my Dear Husband.

Understanding the UK

The new Rough Guide to the UK says:

"The only certainty for visitors is that however long you spend in England and however much you see, it still won't be enough to understand the place."

Does an immigrant to the UK who has spent as long there as I have in the US (23 years so far), feel as English as I feel American? Although much of one's integration into either culture depends on mastery of the language and the personal effort one is prepared to expend, I wonder if it is easier for an immigrant to feel at home in the US than in the UK? Never having been an immigrant in the UK, I don't know. I do know that when I think about the fact that I have spent most (almost all) of my adult life in the USA, it does feel like home and I do feel as though I belong. I know I would go through significant reverse culture shock if I were to return to the UK for good. My grandmother left the UK for close to 20 years and I am not sure that she ever completely lost the feeling that the country she returned to was a different one to the one she left.

People certainly have had plenty to say about the new Rough Guide at the BBC Have Your Say forum. (Discussion there is now closed.) Although I haven't read either of them, it sounds as though Toni Summers Hargis' book Rules, Britannia would in many ways be a more helpful guide to the befuddled visitor to the UK than the Rough Guide.

Mother's Day

My American Mother's Day got off to a pleasant start - I was told I had to stay in bed and not go downstairs until I was called. You won't find me arguing with the idea of some extra time in bed in the morning! DS stayed with me and we sat and read Frog and Toad together. Wow, his reading is getting good! He can't read little words like 'is' and 'on' (complains they don't have enough letters!), but has no problem with 'tricky' words like 'friend'!

Breakfast, when I was called downstairs to eat, was served in a much cleaner kitchen than I had left last night. We had scrambled eggs and bacon, toast, canteloupe, strawberries, and watermelon. DH and I had coffee and mimosas to drink. The children had orange juice.

I got my usual Mother's Day present - lots of nice plants. I had picked out most of them myself yesterday with the children, but they had also gone out with DH and picked out a couple of surprises - a rose bush and two flowering quinces. Most of the annuals will go in pots on the deck and front porch. The kids were disappointed I didn't plant them all today, but the weather forecast for the next couple of days is for temperatures low enough to damage the plants so I'll keep them in the garage for now. Last year the begonias got badly frost-bitten, and although they recovered they looked quite ugly for a while.



This afternoon I had a new experience. Despite having grown up in the UK and having been a house-owner here in the US for the last eleven years, I had never ever mown a lawn until today! I decided today was the day I should learn. (DH will get much ribbing when he tells people that for Mother's Day he let me mow the lawn!) As we have about three-quarters of an acre of lawn, we have a ride-on mower. It's not quite as easy as DH makes it look. It's not always easy to tell where you've already mown, or to see the wide swathes you've missed. After I thought I was done, DH walked around pointing out all the bits I had to redo. It took me longer than the hour it usually takes him, but I'm sure I'll get faster at it. Yes, I will do it again. With an mp3 player and some decent music or downloads from NPR, I don't think I'll find it much of a chore.

DH has just brought me a glass of champagne, so it is time to stop writing for tonight. I shall go and snuggle with the children as we read bedtime stories, then snuggle with DH as I finish my champagne. I am really an incredibly lucky person. I have beautiful, talented, adorable children and an amazingly loving, talented, and thoughtful husband. It's good to have a special day to celebrate, but really every day with my husband and kids is special.

Not been there! (Or there, or there, or there!)

When a colleague referred yesterday to the landmasses on either side of the Straights of Gibraltar as Russia and the United States, I was unable to bite my tongue and I blurted out, "No, that would be Africa and Europe." If looks could kill . . . I should have kept quiet. No one else in the room would have known, and I wouldn't have shown her up. I keep forgetting that most Americans haven't done the travelling that I have, and indeed many have never left their home state. Still, I am often surprised by their lack of geographical knowledge.

Watching travel shows with my family we would often chorus "Been there!" as they introduced each new place. However, when I put the map below together it was quite humbling to see what a tiny portion of the world I have actually visited. (I didn't include places like Japan or Iceland where I never actually left the airport, and there are a few countries between Greece and Italy that I know I drove through with my parents when I was a baby.) I've never even been to Scotland, although my mother was born there. (We set off to get there on one occasion, but got sidetracked by Hadrian's Wall. Apparently it does a good job of keeping the Sassenachs out!) I have been to very few of the US states, though I admit that there are some that I have no interest in visiting. Highlighting the whole of China is misleading as the portion of China I have actually visited is really very small - half a dozen cities. There are still whole continents I haven't made it to yet. Sadly with the cost of travel going up and up, it is going to be a long time before I get to add any more locations to my map, though there is the slim possiblity of adding Washington state and Alaska in the next year or two. I'd definitely like to add Australia, New Zealand and India to my map eventually. I'd like to go back to China and add Thailand and Vietnam to my list too, but it would have to be without DH as he has no interest in visiting Asia

I would guess many of my fellow expat bloggers have been to far more places than I have - I'd be interested to see your maps!

Photo IDs

When I first arrived in the US, I had no need of a driver's licence, but was advised that a photo ID would be a necessity. After my first experience of trying to get into a bar using my UK passport (refused entry - say what? It got me into the COUNTRY but not a bar?!!) I decided a photo ID would indeed be a good idea! I took the bus to the Registry of Motor Vehicles to get a 'liquor ID' - good for buying alcohol and identification when writing cheques, but not for driving.

A couple of years later, I took a Russian friend to the same Registry of Motor Vehicles to get a liquor ID. They wanted to see two forms of photo ID in order to issue her the liquor ID. Huh? If she had two acceptable forms of photo ID, she wouldn't have needed the liquor ID. She got so frustrated, she ended up yelling at the woman behind the counter, "This is worse than f***ing Russia!" Of course that didn't get her very far! The solution? As I by then did have a driver's licence, I was allowed to vouch for her - say that she was who her passport said she was so she could get the liquor ID! Current requirements for international students wanting a liquor ID are:

• passport
• birth certificate
• home country license or home country ID (must contain the person’s signature)
• a bill or letter received with your current Massachusetts address

So I guess that leaves a Brit with no UK driver's licence out of luck as we have no national ID card. (Yet.) And you probably didn't remember to bring your birth certificate with you, did you? Of course, if you're a British undergraduate studying in the US who hasn't turned 21 yet, you're out of luck anyway as you can't legally buy alcohol here even though you can back home :-(

Many years later, I went to renew my driver's licence once more only to be told that it would not be renewed until I handed over the liquor ID I'd been issued with originally. I had just spent over an hour queuing at the Registry of Motor Vehicles, so I was not best pleased, especially as I didn't have the faintest idea where the card might be given that I hadn't used it in years! I was amazed that they had finally made the connection. Although both the liquor ID and the driver's licence obviously had the same name and vital statistics on them, the ID numbers were different and I had renewed my licence at least twice without having been asked to surrender the ID card. Although I have very few photos at all of me back then, I still have my student ID as a souvenir of those days when I was so much less wrinkled and had no grey hair. I am puzzled by one thing about my student ID though - it has a validation sticker on it for the semester AFTER I graduated. How I weaselled that (entitling me to student discounts for another few months) I have no idea!

Tonight's dinner conversation

Discussing the possibility of a trip at some point in the future to DisneyWorld, DH (who apparently does not find the idea of a trip to see The Rat and friends enticing) made the comment: "I think the only fun ride I've ever been on in Florida was Miss Michigan." For just a moment I thought he was referring to a trip he once made to Brownsville, Texas, when he ended up on a plane with all of the Miss America contestants. However, I know he sat next to Miss Idaho so my response was "Speak English, why doncha?" (My usual comment when he's failing to explain himself well.)

DS suddenly remembered a very important question he's been asking us about regularly for the last month or so: "Where did the first baby get born?" This question has been really bothering him as we have been unable to answer him. This time he continued without waiting for an answer: "All the scientists are trying to find the answer, but some of them know the answer. A long, long, time ago when I was three a scientist somewhere near Blue Planet told me but I forgot, and they might be wrong so all the scientists are still looking for the answer."

Need some Marmite?

I never had Marmite as a child and it's not something I can honestly say I like. However, I know that there are many British expats out there who miss their Marmite and who will be delighted to find out that you can buy Marmite from Amazon! It's $44.40 - but don't have a heart attack yet - that's for a CASE of TWELVE 4.4 ounce jars and the shipping is free! That'll see you on for a while, right?

I'd never thought of Amazon as a grocery import store, but they have some good stuff! They sell PG Tips tea in bulk. 640 tea bags for $30, and again no shipping charges. They list 3 kinds of chocolate digestives - unfortunately all out of stock though :-( Probably a good thing, as you have to buy them in bulk too and I could do serious damage to 6 packages of chocolate digestives! They even sell custard creams - but it's a brand I've never heard of so I'm not going to risk it given that they come in a 24-pack! I think that's about 8 pounds of biscuits! I have to check the price of Pataks sauces at our supermarket tomorrow and see if $20 for 4 jars at Amazon is cheaper than I can buy them locally.

There's no easy way to find the import goods at Amazon. You just have to do a search in their grocery store for items you'd like. There are several "British import stores" online that carry a wider range of goods and are more easily searchable but I've never ordered anything from any of them. When I first arrived in the US 23 years ago it was not easy to find certain British foods - custard, digestive biscuits, Ribena . . . Nowadays, though, we have a small import section at our local supermarket and a very good international 'market' nearby where I can usually find most English things I'm craving. They're not always cheap, but usually much cheaper than buying them online! Finding reasonably priced imported foods at Amazon was quite a surprise.

$8 a gallon

I live in an area of the US where petrol (gas) is relatively cheap, and I paid $3.36/gallon this morning for 'regular'. I think that's the first time I've paid over $40 to fill the tank. In California apparently it's up over $4/gallon already. There are currently lots of images like these doing the rounds:





Meanwhile, petrol in the UK is predicted to reach £5 a gallon soon. That works out to be $8.37 per US gallon. Well, I think so - maths was never my best subject! Far more expensive than here in the US anyway! Imagine the panic here in the US if petrol prices were that high! Of course, over the next few days people in the UK may be happy to get petrol at any price if the refinery workers' strike hits as hard as expected. I'm sure some Americans feel as though the prices are as high as in Europe already - it's all relative! It really doesn't feel that long since I was paying less than a dollar a gallon and it is hard to believe that we are now looking at prices that have quadrupled in ten years. The following cartoon dates back to 2004, when people surely thought petrol prices would not go any higher:



Sadly, petrol is NOT a luxury item in the US. Relatively few people live anywhere where there is public transportation. Even when people live within walking distance of the places they would like to go, it is often not practical to do so because there are no pavements (sidewalks). The road we live on is being widened, and closer to town part of the work last year included installing pavements. Unfortunately, there are no plans to bring them any further out. It would be nice if they did as it would then be possible to ride our bikes to town. There's no way I would consider that with my kids without a pavement to ride on - the drivers go too fast and they are too unused to seeing cyclists on the road.

Meanwhile, so many other prices are being affected by the price of petrol. Grain prices are going up not only because of increased production costs but also because of the increased demand for biodiesel. I was amazed to hear this week that Costco is limiting the amount of rice customers can purchase because there are shortages! (Note the touch of fearmongering in that article when the author makes a comment about there being no plans to "to limit food purchases" in general at Walmart stores!) The World Bank estimates that globally "food prices have risen by 83 percent in three years". I guess I just have to work a little harder to convince DH that we really DO need to dig up at least part of the lawn to grow some veggies!

Degrees in selling beds

Twenty odd years ago when I first came to the United States, one of the reasons Europeans considered the American university system a joke was that you could take classes like basket-weaving for academic credit. Now the British education system is moving in the same direction with McDonalds offering A-levels and now Dreams bed company offering a foundation degree in partnership with one of the new universities.

Although the concept of a qualification in bed-selling might seem laughable at first, it actually makes a lot of sense. There are plenty of people who do not do particularly well academically who are quite capable of learning more than they do in school, and they often don't realize that until they get out into the world of work. Options that allow people to go back to school while still at work and learn the theory behind what they are applying on a daily basis seem to me to be a good thing. I particularly like the idea that a foundation degree, like the HND in the UK or an associate's degree here in the US, can be a stepping stone towards a traditional college degree qualification whilst still being vocational at heart. It certainly makes more sense than trying to increase the numbers of people getting traditional, academically focused, degrees.

One of England's newest universities is offering tailor-made degrees in the management of selling beds. Buckinghamshire New University in High Wycombe is offering a retail management foundation degree developed in partnership with bed company Dreams. This is the kind of collaboration between industry and higher education the government wants to encourage. Most of the sector's expansion is through such two-year courses mixing academic and work-based learning.

Tagged

British Daffodilly tagged me with this meme a few days ago, and I've finally managed to find some time to follow up on it. It's the first time I've been tagged. I suspect it's like junk mail - interesting the first couple of times, but annoying eventually if you get memes you're really not interested in! I liked this one though.

1. What was I doing 10 years ago?
I was relatively newly married and childless - but seeing as DH and I lived a two hour drive away from each other and only saw each other on average every other weekend, the childless thing is not surprising! To tell the truth, I wasn't exactly childless as I was 'mommy' to some 20 teenage girls at a boarding school! This time ten years ago I had in fact just got a job offer that meant that come the end of the school year I was going to be able to move 'home' to live with DH. I was very happy - not to mention the fact that the job came with a 5% raise and significantly shorter hours! (My immigration lawyer refused to write down the hours I really worked on my green card application - she said it was too many and knocked about 15 hours off on my job description!) Little did I realize that eventually I was to return to the role of mommy - but this time without being paid for it and without another mommy to be on duty with the kids every other night! Oh, the bliss of being able to ignore the knocking on my door, knowing that there were two other adults whose turn it was to be on duty and I could pretend not to be there! Everyone said I would be well-prepared for having my own children but looking after 20 kids who are not really yours is in many ways MUCH easier than a mere 2 of your own!

2. 5 snacks I enjoy:
Dark chocolate, Cadbury's Creme eggs, chocolate-covered blueberries, chocolate digestives, Nutrigrain bars (but not chocolate ones - tried those in the UK and thought they were disgusting!)

3.Things I would do if I was a billionaire:
Pay off the mortgages of everyone in the family, do the additions/alterations to our house and garden that we talk about but never have the money to do, quit worrying about how to pay for the kids' college tuition. Set up a trust for charitable donations to a variety of causes. Give regularly to NPR and PBS. Travel abroad more. Volunteer more. Read more. Learn to quilt. Oh yes, and quit my job!

4. 5 jobs I've had:
Assistant in a bookshop
Cleaning lady
Waitress
Hotel receptionist
Teacher

5. 3 bad habits:
Biting my nails
Eating too much chocolate
Red wine

6. 5 places I've lived:


7. 5 people I want to know more about:
Hmm - looking for people who haven't already been tagged with this one . . . sorry if I've goofed and someone already tagged you!
CrazyBrits
Only Crook in Town
AliBlahBlah
Bloody Brilliant
Sablonneuse

Flying penguins

The BBC had a rather nice April Fools video about flying penguins. They are now using it as an ad for their video player service on their website. However, I was really frustrated when I went to watch it on April 1st to find that iPlayer did not work for me as I am outside the UK :-( Happily, that particular video is available from other sources (including this blog post.) The CGI is wonderful, and they got the 'David Attenborough' tone just right.