Homes, Sweet Homes....

Well, I'm finally back Stateside after 10 days in the UK. Even though the trip back was pretty exhausting (an 18 hour travel day will do that to you), I had a great time.

The trip was essentially two halves for me- the first half was London which was my reward trip from work and the second half was in Essex with my family.

Both halves were fantastic but quite different. London was very lively as cities generally are. Even though the people there are all people who work for our company, they brought their spouses and the whole event did not feel like work at all. It probably helped that the most we had to do for work was one two-hour meeting to discuss ideas for moving the company forward. The rest of the time was spent in more social events as well as free time.

The social events were actually fun. Since we were all essentially there on holiday, it was a very relaxed atmosphere and I had a lot of fun getting to know some of the spouses. I was sort of held up as the resident expert on London and ended up being the translater of all things decidely British (i.e. what's 'rocket'? Answer: Arugula), the converter of currency (i.e. "how much is 52 pounds in American dollars?) and the navigator on the London underground. I didn't mind a bit. I love London and don't mind showing off my knowledge of the city.

The free time we had was fantastic. I got to be a tourist and see things I've never had the time to see such as the Tower of London. I loved it. My rather dark streak gravitates to the more gruesome aspects of British history so seeing the tower where prisoners were kept, the private execution spot, the torture devices and seeing where Henry the Eight's wives were buried was fascinating to me. I also took a trip around the National Gallery, briefly visited Harrods' food Hall and became somewhat of a regular at Fortnum and Mason since it had a fantasic food hall and was only a brief walk from the hotel.

I also got to spend a day with my cousin who I haven't seen in quite a few years. It was lovely to discover that she has also got the same dark streak as me and when she suggested we go to the London Dungeon, I knew that we were definitely related. That place is a lot of fun- it highlights all of the more brutal aspects of British history. I think, by nature, the British do tend to embrace our dark sides a little more and it's not considered quite so twisted to be interested in that stuff when you're there.

Obviously, one of my favourite parts of the whole trip was the food. I abandoned my typical healthy eating/diet and decided to just enjoy myself. Each day, we had access to an amazing breakfast buffet from the hotel which included all the fixings of a traditional full English breakfast as well as kippers, smoked salmon and multiple bread selections. I also got to indulge in lots of my favourite British foods such as sausage rolls, pork pies, fish and chips and, of course, good beer. Fortunately, my terrible eating was counteracted somewhat by the massive amount of walking I did. I seriously think that for the most part, I walked several miles a day which is rather easy to do in London.

All in all, the London part of the trip was wonderful. It was nice being a tourist but not really feeling like one. By the time everyone else left for the airport, I was ready to begin the second half of my trip so after a little drama with Fed Ex- my coworker had left me in charge of a package because she had to catch a plane- I did manage to catch my train two hours late and head to my grandparent's, a mere 35 minutes away.

That part of my trip was far more relaxed. I got to spend the first day and a half with just my granny since my grandad was away in Germany- his native land. It was lovely to just relax in her kitchen- the traditional gathering spot of my grandparents' house since I've been alive. I haven't been back for three years so it was lovely to catch up and feel right at home.

When my grandad came back, he was laden with German goodies such as sausage, bread and chocolate galore. Thus, I got a nice German feast as well as the traditional British food that I normally enjoy.

The only problem with staying with my grandparents is that my granny thinks she needs to feed me. She declared that I was quite thin and could thus stand to eat more. This meant that anytime I sat for more than 10 minutes, I was either offered food or food was placed subtly in front of me. Believe me, I'm not complaining but I do think that now I'm back in the U.S., I'll be calorie counting a lot harder than usual and trying to exercise a little more. I have to make up for all that terrible but wonderful food somehow.

I also got to see more of my cousins as well as my aunts and uncles. I didn't do too much once I hit Essex other than go for walks around the town and once to the neighbourhood where I grew up. It's strange how instantly it seems so familiar and yet seems so distant. Our old house has changed but elements are still the same. I wandered around with that nostalgia that hits when you realize that time moves ever forward. It doesn't seem that long ago when I used to do somersaults on the pole that was a support for the little porch of our house or I used to plant marigolds in a makeshift flowerbed I created in our old front yard. The ghosts of my playmates still hang in the air and walking down the street that was once home made me remember everything so clearly, it actually felt it had all just happened.

It was a good thing to do, that walk. It made me realize that I think no matter how long I stay away, England will always be home. It's in my blood. I wasn't that old when I left but I was old enough to be a person, not just a child and that person was formed by the years spent living in the UK. The U.S. has left it's imprint on me too but at my core, I'm a diehard Brit.

By the time I left on Saturday morning to begin my long journey home, I had managed to do all the things I wanted to do, see all the people I wanted to see and eat all the food I wanted to eat. I left with a sadness that always occurs when you leave a place you love but it was also nice to get home.

It also helps that I had two little furry dachshunds to launch themselves upon me as soon as I walked into my parents house and who've barely left my side since.

In a way, I feel like my trip to the UK took me home. Yet I also came home when I saw my parents at the airport and was assaulted with affection from Sookie and Rory when we were reunited. I think I'll always feel like I have a foot on each continent as long as I'm alive but it's only now when I realize that that's definitely a wonderful thing. I plan on going back a little more often than I have been going.

But...not for a while. I need to do a little dieting first.

Happy Monday and thanks for reading!

More Pea Gravel Patio Adventures

This has been one busy weekend! I finally got my patio finished. I'm pretty pleased with the result but if I never have to haul another 50 lb bag of pea gravel from my car to the garden again, I'll be happy. I ended up using approximately 42 bags of gravel which is over two tons. It looks good, I do have to say.

I broke the new patio in this weekend by lighting a fire in the firepit. Fortunately, I was not joined by Larry the Potential Serial Killer though I must admit, I was a little paranoid that he'd stop by. In the end, it was just me and the girls who rather enjoyed sitting on my lap and enjoying the fire. It's hard when they both want to sit on my lap since I have only one lap and they're two long dogs.

Aside from the patio, I spent the weekend shopping for my upcoming visit to London. The shopping wasn't just for London- in my efforts to shed my excess weight, I dropped a size in clothes and much of my fall wardrobe is a little bigger than I am. Not that I'm complaining. It gives me an excuse to go shopping. It was a good weekend for it- there were sales galore. I like this time of year because the summer clothes are on clearance. It's a good time to stock up for next year but also to get some good layering type of clothes to wear under heavier sweaters and cardigans.

I'm getting excited about London-it's going to be rather nice to get to spend some time being a 'tourist'- usually my trips to the UK are family-oriented which is wonderful but they don't allow the same freedom as an actual vacation just because there are so many people to see. Also, it seems that everyone is always trying to feed me. It'll be nice to have a little bit of time where I get to explore on my own and eat what I like. My cousin is coming to spend some time in London with me- I haven't seen her for many years so it'll be fun to see how she's doing. After the work part of the trip is over, i'm heading to my grandparent's which will be nice.

The only part I'm worried about is missing my pups. I know they'll be safe with their 'grandparents' but it'll be hard to be away for 10 days without seeing them. I'm sure they'll be fine, right?

I only have 10 days before I leave- there still seems like a lot to do but there always does before you go away anywhere. The hard stuff is sorted- my passport is valid and I have a temporary green card so I shouldn't have any travel problems. The part I hate is being on the plane- it's an overnight flight and no matter how hard I try, I simply can't sleep properly on a plane.

Still, I have time before I have to worry about that. There's another weekend in there and since I don't have any more landscaping plans, I'll have plenty of time to take care of things next week.

For now, I plan on enjoying what little of the weekend I have left and being a little sore from all my pea gravel exertions. Still, they say "no pain, no gain," right?

And I gained a nice little patio so it was probably worth the pain.

Happy Monday!

A LIttle Too Early...Pre-Trip Excitement

I’m going to England in a little over a month, provided my green card gets renewed. I have an appointment to get a temporary one on Thursday so wish me luck. Hopefully I’ll be successful. If not, I find places like the USCIS offices a very interesting place to people watch and make up stories in my head about who the people are.

I’m excited about England, I think. I’m a little nervous about leaving the pups for so long but they’ll be with my parents so I’m sure there’ll be fine. It’s just hard with dogs because unlike, say, with kids, you can’t call them on the phone. Granted, I confess, I am one of those insane pet parents who likes my parents to hold the phone to Sookie and Rory’s ear so I can say hi but that generally confuses them and forces them to try to find out why I’m trapped in the weird little box thing and why I’m not there petting them.

Still, the trip should be fine. Even though it’s paid by my office, it’s primarily a reward trip and thus will not be as much work as just having fun. My office has a nice policy that spouses and partners are also allowed to go and have their expenses paid because the theory is that they’re the ones who have to put up with our sometimes insane working hours/habits and thus they too should be rewarded. I like that theory. I think it’s kind and very generous.

For me, I don’t have a spouse nor a partner. Dogs are not permitted. Neither are mothers, sisters or friends. Thus, like a few others in the group, I will be going alone. I actually don’t mind at all. We get an allotted amount of spending money and if you bring someone, you have to share. As I’m a singleton, I get that money all to myself. Stingy…probably? Luxury? Definitely.

Most of the trip will involve lots of free time. The office will give us a list of activities that we can either choose to do or not and if we choose to do them, the company will pay. The beauty of it is we don’t have to do anything. We can simply enjoy London.

I know, I know…I’m very lucky. I know it and I’m already grateful even though the trip hasn’t happened yet. It’s simply nice to be working for a company who has a Top Performers trip. Even if I hadn’t have qualified, I’d still admire the fact that the company has been doing this for 30 years, each time somewhere new. It’s a very generous way to show your employees that they do matter and they make a difference.

I’m even luckier that not only have I qualified for my first possible trip but also that it’s to London. Usually, it’s somewhere like Key West, Las Vegas or Miami. That’s not to say those places wouldn’t be a ton of fun either but London is definitely better- I’m planning on staying a few extra days to visit my friends and family.

The interesting part of the trip for me is watching our branch administrator plan it. For me, a natural born Brit, things of a British nature are, well, second nature to me. Yet, viewing things through my coworkers’ eyes, I get an entirely different perspective. Everything is new and different. For example, normally when she plans the trip in the U.S., she finds a resort hotel or a hotel with a good concierge who will assist with setting up dining, entertainment and amenities. In England, that is not the case. The concierge will assist to some degree by making recommendations. They might even book theatre tickets. However, when it comes to planning group activities, that’s all up to my branch administrator. She’s finding it a lot more work than usual.

I admire her efforts. Setting up a trip that will end up including around 30 people is not easy, particularly an international one. She has to take care of everything from booking things all the way down to researching how our Blackberries will work, how much a second suitcase will cost to check and how to go about getting tube passes. Then there’s the issue of money. For me, I grew up using pounds and pence. She grew up with dollars and cents. Even how to say the amounts of money is new for her. She’s getting the hang of it though and the trip is coming together nicely. It’s actually quite fun- it’s like I’m Harry Potter trying to show Mr. Weasley how to deal with the muggle world.

I think it’s going to end up being a lot of fun. I think my biggest dilemma will be trying to decide if I’d rather go shopping at Harrods with a gift card from the office or using the time to do more interesting things like go to the Tower of London. I’m leaning towards the Tower just because I’ve never been there and due to my “Game of Thrones” obsession of late, it seems like the closest thing England has to that world. Being a little dark and twisty, I find the idea of seeing where they used to put heads on pikes and conduct torture to be rather intriguing. I know that’s a little sick but, well, it’s more interesting to me than seeing something like the crown jewels.

It’ll be nice to get back to England. It’s been a couple of years since I went back and I’d like to see my grandparents again. If timing had worked out better, I’d actually see my mother there too- she’s leaving for a trip to the UK tomorrow but she gets back about three weeks before I leave.

It’s definitely something to look forward to and even on not-so-great days at work, it’s a reminder that there are good days too and those good days can lead to trips to England. I can’t wait.

Happy Wednesday! (And Bon Voyage, Mummy Monkeypants- have a safe trip!)

Nostalgia for Days of Yore....

I think that, when the holidays are upon us, it's inevitable that we look backwards in time to Christmases that have come before.

Or, at least, for me it is.

It's hard not to, really. It starts with the brochures, I think. This year, the Toys R Us Toybook came quite early and it's been at my parents' house where my nephews and nieces can leaf through it and decide what they'd like to add to their Christmas list. I leafed through the book and many other brochures this past weekend. It's amazing to see the toys that are popular now and compare them to the toys that were popular in my childhood.

Some of them are the same. Strawberry Shortcake has made a comeback, Cabbage Patch Kids are still around and Calico Critters bear a striking resemblance to the Sylvanian Families of my youth (and of which my younger sister was a collector). Heroes like Batman and Spiderman never really go out of style.

Yet there are new toys as well- Bratz, Monster High, LaLaLoopsy and other weirdly named dolls seem to be in vogue. Toy Story 3 is everywhere although those toys are actually Disneyfied versions of mine and even the generation before's youth.

It's not just the toys that are different. It's the world, really. Now's the time when, if I had a child, I'd be saying, "When I was a child..." and telling the stories of having to walk through snow and rain over the miles to get to school. Actually, I did have to walk a mile to school in the snow, thank you very much. It was freezing especially when you had to wear a school uniform that required a skirt.

But the world is different now. It was different in my youth from the generations that had come before me. It's constantly evolving. The places I notice it this time of year is in the stores.

When I was a child in England, there were toy shops. There were butcher's shops, a greengrocer, a fish market. There were bakeries and post-offices where you had to go to get stamps. To go shopping was an event. I'd wait patiently for my mother to order her merchandise from the vendors. The butcher's shop, for example, smelled of sawdust that masked the odor of meat. Behind thick strips of hanging plastic in a doorway, we could see the racks of meat hanging, waiting to be cut to order. In the greengrocers, the scents of apples and oranges, of onions and leeks and cabbage would blend together and I'd wait while my mother bought her potatoes and whatever else she needed. In the newsagents, they'd sell sweets and snacks, newspapers and soft drinks. We'd go there to pick up our weekly comics. That was my favourite shop because I had a sweet tooth and I'd spend my 10p of pocket money on 'little sweets' from the penny county counter.

What I'm getting at is that the world isn't like that anymore. The stores of my childhood are gone. They've been boarded up or replaced by cellular phone stores. If you want meat, you go to one of the mega-marts that are everywhere. The same goes for bread, for produce, for sweets.

It's the same in England as it is in the States. Here, you buy toys at Walmart or Target or K-Mart. Sure, Toys R Us is there but that's a megamart of a different kind. It's not a little toy shop with hand carved puppets, deluxe softtoys or collector-quality trainsets. It's a store full of what's popular. They sell FAO Schwarz toys in there now which makes me sad because I think FAO Schwarz is almost gone from the face of the world. That was a toy shop to see. I went to the New York Store which I think is still there and it's just something else. Even as an adult, I felt like I could be a kid in there again.

Speciality stores have become a novelty nowadays, oddities that are fun to peruse but more expensive to buy from because they have more overhead than the big chains. It's like in the movie, "You've Got Mail," in which Meg Ryan's delightful little children's book store is overshadowed and overpowered by the big chain bookstore.

I'm as guilty as the next person for helping this happen. I mean if I see something in a specialty store or catalog, the first thing I do is go to Amazon.com or other website to see if I can get it for less.

It's just the way of the world. It's economy and convenience. It's not wrong it's just...a little sad that this is what's happenend. Sure, we can blame Walmart but it's not all their fault. They wouldn't succeed with out us, the consumers who are eager for low prices with less hassle. Of course, personally speaking, these days I almost always find Walmart to be a hassle but the point remains.

It's just sad to look back and look upon a world that's lost the personality of individual stores and given way to 'all-in-one' types of places. It's hardest, I think, at Christmas because shopping is such a part of the experience. Nowadays, it's entirely possible to get all your shopping done in one store if you're careful.

Me, I like to spread the shopping around. This is probably why I enjoy spending time shopping online. The digital stores have become our speciality stores. I don't know if that's a scary thing or something that's just plain interesting to contemplate. I'm going to have to think on that.

In the meantime, I'll continue to look back through my rose-tinted glasses on past Christmases where Christmas shopping meant getting to look round the expanded toy sections of each department store and, as a special treat, to go visit Father Christmas in one of them. While I enjoy the scrimmage and chaos of early-morning Black Friday shopping, I like the idea of spending a day shopping. It means going to more than one store to get the shopping done and even though the stores carry much of the same products, it still feels different in each one.

I suppose that's the closest we can come nowadays to the forgotten days of speciality stores where each store sold lots of types of the same thing. I miss that, in some ways but it's quicker these days to shop and get the job done in one or two stores.

I suppose it's all a trade off. The world has moved on and we've moved with it.

But sometimes, wouldn't it be nice if time could stand still for a while?

Happy Tuesday!

Visions of Fridays Dance in My Head

I think I've said before that I like Thursdays as a general rule. I find them akin to Christmas Even where you know the 'big day' is next but the anticipation of that is almost as sweet as the actual day of Christmas itself.

In this case, the 'big day' is simply Friday. While we still have to work on Fridays, they're like the reward at the end of the week. Things are a little more relaxed. People talk more on Fridays. The day goes by quickly, mostly because I have a lot of meetings on Fridays for some reason.

As not a huge fan of meetings, I don't mind meetings on Friday afternoons, particularly when they involve my boss. He's very easily distractable and clearly has a case of the 'wanting to escape early and start the weekend off right.'

So, pretty much, in a way, Fridays are part of the weekend because you know how matter how rough they are, there are two beautiful days of freedom just beyond the rise.

Today was a good Thursday. I had a couple of meetings which weren't too bad. I find that I tend to doodle a lot more in some meetings than others. Doodling, for me, is almost like meditation. I have to doodle in order to listen. As my pencil sketches odd designs and things on the page, my mind is listening to what people are saying.

Today, my doodles were off odd things. I drew a superhero who was an owl, two large evil looking pumpkins. Then I attempted to sketch a piece of corn. I don't mean the sweetcorn you buy in the supermarket, it was the type of corn that looks like wheat, that they make into flower. In England, when you see a corn field, there's no sweetcorn to be found. Instead it's rows and rows of green or golden sheaves, depending on the month, waving in the wind.

This is the corn I grew up with. My older brother used to go off to the corn fields to get up to mischief with his friends. They'd play in the fields, hiding from one another when the corn was high enough. When it was harvest season, they'd use the haystacks made from the dried corn stalks as objects in which to dive.

In our art classes, we'd have to draw pieces of this corn, capturing each kernel just right. Nowadays, while I remember in my mind how it looks, my pencil can no longer remember how to sketch it. It was sad. I used to know how to nest each kernel so it actually looked like corn. Now it looks rather bloated and more like a Christmas tree.

I was a little worried about this, whether it meant I was losing some of my Englishness. I compensated by making sure I could still remember how to make the pound sign. I don't mean that crosshatch thing you see on phone keypads, I mean the UK monetary type of pound sign. Fortunately, I could without any thought at all.

Thus, my meetings passed quickly. I like it when that happens. Doodling is good for making sure you're not so bored you start visualizing stabbing people in the eye with your pencil.

In addition to my meetings, we also had cake. I'm not a big fan of cake but today I was in the mood for a piece. My piece had plenty of frosting on it and clearly, I was in the mood for that more than cake because I realized that I'd slowly eaten all of that and left part of the cake. That's unusual for me. I'm not usually a cake eater at all.

I also had a meeting with the man who interviewed me last week. I was offered the job I interviewed for. At the moment, I'm 98% sure I'm ready for the change since the salary and benefits package met my requirements. All I need is the formal offer from the company which I'm supposed to get tomorrow.

The prospect of this change is both exciting and a little scary. I like this new company. People there seemed genuinally to like their jobs. Having been involved in a series of candidate interviews for a programmer position we have at work, I've had the chance to be on both sides of the interview process over the past two weeks. You can tell when someone is genuinely excited about their job. I don't think many people in our company are. In this new company, three of the four employees have been there over ten years. That says a lot.

I may change my mind but it's a lovely feeling to go into my Friday with this opportunity on my mind. It will help me focus on my current job and truly decide if I want to leave or whether the new opportunity is too great to pass up. I suggest the latter but I want time to sleep on it and make absolutely sure it's the right thing for me.

For now, I have that and the pleasure of it being Friday tomorrow. The weekend is wide open at the moment with no firm plans. It will give me plenty of time to do some serious thinking so that, by Monday, I will know for sure.

Then again, I have several meetings tomorrow. Maybe I should use those as my thinking time instead.

We'll see how it goes.

Happy Friday!

Time Traveling by the Scent of a Leaf

I promise not to whine or moan about my air conditioning today. After a four-hour visit from a new repairman, my system is up and running with a cleaned-out evaporation system and a new fan and motor. It wasn't cheap but I didn't expect it to be. I now have blissfully cool air pumping out of my vents while the weather outside is very hot and clammy. All is good.

Instead, I'm going to talk about time travel which may seem like an odd topic of blog-versation but, well, hopefully it'll make sense.

It all began with a hydrangea leaf.

While the very nice air conditioning fix-it man was outside working on my pesky unit, I was

outside with the puppies, trying to make them stop barking. Rory isn't a barker but Sookie is. It's only with strangers which is actually not such a bad thing. She's very protective of me.

We were outside and it was mid-morning. The plants and grass were still very wet from the rain/humidity that we had last night. In one of my side flowerbeds, I have a large hydrangea bush. I didn't plant it but I enjoy it nonetheless. The puppies ran off to chase a bird, and I was left standing there. Without thinking, I reached out and picked one of the large green leaves from the hydrangea bush. I folded it in half and tore a small circle of the folded leaf and then, still without realizing what I was really doing, I gently tore a slit below the circle. I unfolded it and realized I had made a face on my leaf.

It was something I haven't done in many, many years but, obviously, something I had done before. I cast my mind back and remembered doing it as a child. Just then, the scent of the leaf caught my nose and, for an instant, it was like travelling back in time.

The smell invoked in me a set of memories from my childhood. It's a fresh, green, almost herbal

scent. I remembered, then, picking leaves from the large hydrangea bushes that belonged to our next-door neighbour, Mrs. Olly. Mrs. Olly was a mean old lady who hated the neighbourhood children. She would constantly be telling tales on us or watching us from her living room window. She had a lovely garden though and her hydrangea bushes were lots of different colours.
The scent made me remember how my friend and I had invented the face-game with the leaves, making little leaf-people with each small circle that was torn out for eyes. Then I remembered using the leaves to play teaparty- the leaves were our plates. We used the leaves to cover insects, to make leaf trails.

With another sniff of the leaf, I remembered summer afternoons during our British summer holidays which lasted six-weeks. Compared to the American summer vacation of 12 weeks, that seems short but, at the time, it seemed like a lovely long, near-eternity when you're only eight or nine or ten or even eleven. Then again, if you didn't know better, it would seem like a long time to any child, no matter how old.

The smell made me remember the British summer days. We'd get up early, the dew wet on the lawn. I'd be wearing a summer dress because girls really didn't wear trousers much when

I was little. We did on weekends but our primary wardrobes were skirts and tops or casual dresses. I remember putting on my sandals. Buying my summer sandals was an annual affair where my mum would take me and my sister to the shops so we could pick the sandals we were to wear all summer. At first we had to wear socks with them. Nowadays, I'd think that dorky but, back then, it was perfectly normal. As it got warmer, we got to wear them without socks.

Once I had my sandals on, I'd go outside and look at the world. It would be deep in its morning colours, the shadows and light closer together than they would be for most of the day. I remember how wet the dew was and how my feet got wet.

As the morning past, I'd probably either play with a friend, play with one of my siblings- most likely my little brother or I'd read. I loved to read. It was my favourite activity. It still is, actually.

In the afternoons, my mum would often take us to the park. I don't know how she did it,

honestly. She'd not only escort me there but often one of my friends. My sister would take her doll, sometimes in its stroller and my younger brother would always want to bring his friend Andrew. My older brother was often already down the park with a friend. He loved to fish and would often be fishing with his friends.

My mum would patiently lead us down the park. Sometimes we'd go through the brickfields- over the little waterfall things that, to this day, I'm not sure what they do. There was a bridge over them and we always had to pause to watch the water. On the other side of the bridge, there was a river. My brother would sometimes be fishing here so we'd go see if he'd caught anything. If not, we proceeded along the way to Admirals park. We'd pass through a little spinney of trees where there was a tiny, algea-crusted pond. I'd always look at the pond, wondering if, one day, the entire surface would be light-green with algae instead of just patches.

We'd walk a little further and then, finally, we'd be at the park. It was a typical park with

a see-saw, roundabout, swings and slide. Yet it also had a river in which, when we were permitted, we could fish.

That was another annual tradition: Fishing nets. When the summer holidays began, we'd go to the sweet shop (aka, the newsagents) and they'd have a stack of coloured fishing nets leaning up in the corner of the shop, against the window. They were just little nets on a bamboo stick, like a butterfly net but of a stiffer material. We'd proudly buy our nets. After a couple of years experience of fishing for minnows, my brother and I had learned that the nets easily detatched from the bamboo stick so we knew to tape the net to the handle for security.

So, when we'd go to the park, we'd take our nets. When mum was ready, she'd allow us to join the many other children who were already in the river, fishing. Some places were deep, others shallow. The trick was to try to go somewhere where no one else was. We'd be wearing our wellington boots because there were rocks and glass on the bottom of the river.

When we caught a minnow or, even better, a bigger type of fish, we'd put it in a jar that we had with us, just for this purpose. We'd continue until we were summoned by mum to get out. We'd leave with a protest. Most of the time, we'd let the fish go but sometimes, we'd take them home with us.

After that, we'd play in the park for a bit longer and then, tired, hot and ready to leave, we'd go back home, have tea (the meal, not the drink) and then go to bed even though it was still light out and, most likely, would be for a couple more hours.

All this, I remembered in a few brief seconds just by the scent of the hydrangea leaf. It sounds dramatic but it's true. As soon as I smelled the leaf, I was back in England, on a warm, sunny, summer day, my hands smelling of hydrangea, nagging at my mum to see when were going to go to the park.

In a way, to me, that was time travel. I may not have physically gone but for the moments that I remembered, I was there, in my past, back to being a child and remembering every sensation, every sound and every smell of my youthful summers. The memories were so powerful, I could almost hear the trickle of the river as I fished.

Of course, as an adult, I've been back to the park and realized that it wasn't even really a river but more of an over-wide stream. It turned into a river above and below where we fished but, in the park, it wasn't much to speak of; it was just a long, muddy stream of water with a little man-made path on both sides.

Yet, as a child, it was a river. It was our summer place. It was our tradition. It was a place I remember now but remembered far more vividly when I smelled the scent of that leaf.

I was back there, in the past for just a few moments. The air conditioning man had faded from my mind, the puppies were a distant concern and I was back to being a child.

So maybe it wasn't time travel as most people imagined it but, to me, it's as close as I'm likely to get. I think from now on when the woes of the world get to me in the form of broken air conditioners, office politics, writer's frustration and no PTO at work, I will just go outside, pluck off a leaf from my hydrangea bush and smell it.

And, if it's winter, I'll just find another way to travel back in time, just for a little while.

Happy Thursday!

You Don't Know What You've Got....Until It's Gone...

So, it’s come to my attention after now whining in my last two blogs about my lack of air conditioning that I may be a wee bit spoiled.

After all, when I was growing up in the UK, we didn’t have air conditioning. I don’t think I even remember knowing what air conditioning was. During the English summer, in my area at least, we would have a few really hot days in the summer where it went up over 80. Of course, being a little island, that means it was 80 degrees with a lot of humidity. Mostly, though, summer days weren’t intolerable. We expected it to be warm but not too hot, most of the time, at least. Since we moved to the U.S., it seems global warming has affected the UK and they do have a lot more heat over there. My relatives and British friends are always talking about how hot it gets. I’m not sure what the status of air conditioning is over in the UK but I venture to guess it’s still not as prominent over there as it is here in the U.S.

In fact, my very first memory of arriving in the U.S. was in August. When we got off the plane, we were met with a wall of heat that seemed so thick, it was difficult to breathe. When we went into the airport, it was freezing. The air felt…weird. It took me a while to get used to air conditioning though it didn’t take too long for me to appreciate it. The house we moved into was an old farmhouse and it didn’t have air conditioning. In the summer, we sweated and roasted and would find ways to cool down- going to shopping malls, going to the pool, etc. The nights were hot and sticky. I would lie in my room, too hot to sleep and listen to the honk of the Canadian geese that were swimming in our neighbours ponds over the road. I remember those nights well. There was the sound of cicadas, of crickets, of the odd bird chirping, all intertwined with the honking of those geese.

When the sun rose and we’d get up the next morning, I remember getting up earlier than I did during less hot days. The mornings were cooler and I’d go outside to appreciate the fresher air than was in the house. As the day went on, the heat increased but there gets to a point in the house where it can’t get that much hotter- it’s just plain…hot.

After a few years of this, my dad caved and bought one of those window air conditioners. We’d gather in the living room where it was situated and breathe a sigh of relief. It did little for the hot nights, particularly for my sister, brother and I who all slept upstairs, but it was a pleasant relief in the evenings before bed.

Naturally, after I went to college, my parents had central air installed. For the summers I was home, it was a nice change from the hot nights. They also moved my bedroom downstairs and I could no longer hear the sound of the honking geese, nor any other night sounds since I now slept with the windows closed.

Ironically, nowadays, when I visit my parents, I stay in my first room- the upstairs one. The air conditioning sort of reaches up there but doesn’t keep it too cool so I use a fan. I also sleep with the window open and get to hear the sounds of the summer night again. I like that.

What my point comes down to is that I managed to survive years without air conditioning. Nowadays, if it breaks, I have a little whine and moan and act like it’s the end of the world. Granted, it did go out at the worst time- the night prior to taking the puppies in to get spayed and two days after when it was important to keep the pups comfortable- but…still. I acted like a prima donna, like it was my divine right to have working air conditioning.
Of course, my whining was probably influenced by the fact that I was covered with a layer of sweat, had two panting puppies at my feet and only warm, sultry air flowing through the house with no cooling, comfortable breeze to make it tolerable.

I’m obviously conflicted. I know it’s possible to live without air conditioning but since I’ve experienced life without it- both recently and in the past- I don’t want to live without it. This of course makes me sound a bit like an awful human being- after all, lots of people don’t have AC- the starving children in Africa, the third world countries and lots of people in Europe.

In my guilt at feeling like a spoiled whiner, I did some searching on the internet about how people lived without air conditioning. I came across a blog post by a lady who offered tips based on how she lives without air conditioning. She wants to save the money it costs over a summer to run the AC. Her tips included making sure you don’t go into any place that has AC: You don’t know what you’re missing until you experience it. Also, she doesn’t cook indoors but grills out every day, using picnic-style foods to feed her family. Also, the coolest room in the house is the living room so she and her kids camp out in the living room over the summer months.

Now, while I salute her attempts to save a few dollars, I can’t help wonder how her kids feel. My guess is that they go to their friends a lot. They can’t have much company in their house because they obviously have a bit of a muddle in their living room due to the ‘campout’ situation. Also, as a guest, it can’t be too comfortable in a humid, hot house. Also, while I’m quite fond of grilled foods, I couldn’t eat them everyday. There’s only so many sandwiches and salads you can eat before you start wanting a nice, non-grilled, homecooked meal

My guess is that when they get older, that lady’s kids are going to be the ones who crank their air conditioning up so it’s only 60 degrees in their houses. I’ve met a few of these people and when you find yourself wishing for winter woolies while visiting them in August…you know they HAD to have grown up without AC.

I suppose my point is that, as humans, once you get used to something, it’s hard to lose it. It can be a relationship, a pair of comfy socks, Cost Plus World Market (at least in this area), a chocolate bar you were craving, only to discover it’s a melted, inedible mess….the list is endless.

You just don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. Especially when it’s air conditioning.
Happy Tuesday!

World Cup Nostalgia

This week seems to be going quite quickly. That's not such a bad thing though. I'd rather the week go quickly than the weekend although I've yet to have a weekend that passes too slowly.

Work was actually quite fun today. Since we have cable television, a couple of my coworkers and I decided to go work in our training lab so we could watch the World Cup on television. We knew we'd be allowed since during March Madness basketball, the men in our office all got to sit and watch basketball and work.

Strangely, enough, I managed to get quite a bit of work done and cheer for England at the same time. Since we could only watch one match at a time, we flipped between the England match and the U.S. match. Luckily, both teams one and will advance on out. I'm a little nervous since England now has to play Germany which rarely goes well but, all the same, I'm excited for my team.

I'm not really a very sporty person, generally. I think I like the competition of sports more than the actual sport itself. I do watch American football now although I don't feel compelled to watch every game. If I'm really in the mood, basketball doesn't offend me. I can't watch baseball because, well, frankly...it's boring to watch. Mostly, I'm not really big on sports. Yet there's something about the World Cup that I always find addictive. Every four years, I learn the England squad and keep my fingers crossed that this is their cup, that this time they will win. I've never seen it in my lifetime but I live in hope.

I've actually been into the World Cup since when I was young. Living in England and playing with the kids on my street made us into football (ok, fine, soccer) fans. I remember the first world cup I can remember, back in the days when Pele played for Brazil and Diego Maradonna played for Argentina. We'd play on the green in front of our houses, always wanted to be our favourite player. I always got stuck being Kevin Keegan who was an England player at the time. My friend, Glen, would be Maradonna and his little brother, Stuart, would be Pele. We played a lot around World Cup time.

We also played Wimbledon a lot during Wimbledon season. We never had a tennis net so we'd play tennis on the path (sidewalk) in front of my house, drawing a line for the net in chalk. We'd enjoy ourselves but occasionally get carried away and hit the ball too hard. It only was an issue when it'd go in the neighbours back garden and we sheepishly had to ask for our ball back. Sometimes, we lost the ball and couldn't play. We got to the point where we'd all try to have a supply of tennis balls. My favourite tennis partner was my next-door neighbour, Darren. My dad had put up a high fence to keep the afghan hounds in. We used to play Tennis-Over-The-Fence and try to play over the high fence. We were pretty good at it but that's usually when we'd lose the balls the most. One time, we lost our only ball and in desperation, tried to make one. We actually made a newspaper ball filled with little rocks and taped it up. Needless to say, it was a disaster. We soon realized it had no bounce.

Clearly, physics was not my speciality. In my defence, it wasn't Darren's either.

These days, especially around the World Cup and Wimbledon time of year, I often think back to how the sporting events go on even though life changes. I have no idea what happened to Darren, Glen, Stuart or any of the other kids we used to play with regularly on the street outside in the summer evenings. I sometimes wish I did, just because we such a part of each other's childhood. We fought together and against one another, made up games, fell off bikes, climbed trees (or, in my case, tried to climb trees), and swapped comic books. Times like this, watching the World Cup, thousands of miles where I grew up, take me back to those summer days. Even though my memory has become horrible with age, I still remember the details of my youth.

I'm sure the World Cup will continue every four years for the rest of my life. Each time, I know it'll trigger my memories and make me nostalgic for the more simplistic days of my youth, even though I like where I am now in life.

I just hope England wins one soon though.

Happy Thursday!

Oh, Those Summer Nights....

It's back to work tomorrow for me after a nice long weekend. I'm currently watching three boys, probably around age nine, wheel their bicycles down the street, candy in hand, chatting casually as they stroll. For them, it's summer. There's no school tomorrow and even though they probably have to be in at a certain time, chances are that tomorrow they'll wake up and have another lazy summer day.

I miss those days. When I was in England as a child, our summer holidays were only six weeks long but that seemed like an eternity when it started. I remember waking up, the dew on the grass, not having to do anything resembling a scheduled activity. If my mum didn't have anything planned for us, I'd either spend the day reading or, if I felt like being social, I'd go around a friends and we'd while away the day doing very little of any consequence.

We lived on a crescent street which meant it was basically an open ended semi-circle. In the evenings during the summer holidays, all the kids who lived close by would gather on the communal grass outside the houses and we'd play games like Red Rover or clockworks or "It" (which is what we called 'tag' in England). Sometimes, we'd play cricket or football (aka soccer) or we'd make up games of our own. Since the summer evenings in England are much longer than they are here, it would sometimes be almost 10 p.m before it got fully dark but most of the time we were all summoned in by our respective parents just as the sun started to go down and the shadows grew longer.

Those were great days, full of ease and freedom. There were a core group of kids who'd play in the evenings- I was usually one of them along with my older brother- but other kids would join us when they were allowed. Some would also live on our street, others would be our friends from other streets. Regardless of who played, it was, as so often it seems to be when reflecting on childhood, an idyllic time.

Seeing those boys wheeling their bikes takes me back to those times. The cool of the night would be falling as we'd be going to bed. When I was too young to really play games on the street, I'd have to be in bed by 8:30 p.m. and some nights, it was still fully daylight out which made it very hard to sleep.

Nowadays, even when the days are long as they are now, the freedom that came with youth has vanished a little. As an adult, I get to make my own choices about bedtime as well as more important choices such as: Do I dare try to wire my own ceiling fan or should I wait for my dad? (answer: wait for dad). I get to choose my own meals and clothes and pretty much everything in my life. I have freedom over my life but it's not the same type of freedom found in those lazy summer evenings where sometimes all we'd do is lie on our backs and look up at the clouds to see what we could make out in their billowy forms.

I still do that on occasion although it's harder now. For one thing, I have to worry about if the grass is too long to lie on and, if it is, I have to mow it. Also, I have two puppies that can't resist a face dive if they seem me lying down within reach. I still look up at the clouds and I still can find shapes but it's not the same as lying on an English patch of grass, head to head with my friends and trying to out-cloud one another.

In some ways, I do envy those boys outside with their bikes. It would be nice to have the summer off without commitment until school starts creeping its way back into their consciousness at the beginning of August.

But in other ways, I can't help but feel glad that I'm through the adolescent years ahead of those boys and living my life the way I want. It's a tradeoff, I supposed- the granted freedom of youth vs. the earned freedom of adulthood. Being an adult is not a bad thing at all.

Of course, it doesn't mean I wouldn't say no to a summer vacation.

Happy Wednesday!