Alien Spouse

Happy Mothday!

Today is my lovely Mum's birthday - So I'm boxing up Eva and sending her via airmail!

Happy Birthday Moth!

I'm joking, obviously I'd never put a baby in a large cardboard box with a bunch of packing peanuts and then tape the lid shut.

Edith on the other hand...

That is her idea of heaven, plus she loves to travel and meet new people!

Again, I'm kidding!  Please don't put either babies or cats in a cardboard box and ship them internationally.  I'm pretty sure there would be some shipping tax issues for starters.

(In all seriousness the baby was never let out of my sight whilst lying on the packing peanuts, because I wouldn't trust her not to choke on one and that would be so awful - Edith knows better then that and simply bats the packing peanuts around with her paws.)

Time Change.

The clocks went back an hour last night; so, in theory, I should have had an extra hour of sleep last night and be feeling well rested.

Ah hahahahahahahaha ha ha!

No.  

For one thing I made the decision to watch a scary movie with Doc C.  I'd watched "Session 9" (2001) sometime last year, and I remembered it being atmospheric and creepy, with some interesting ambiguity and just a touch of gore. It's got a great cast (ok, ok, if you overlook David Caruso... I actually think he's not bad in this, but once you've seen enough episodes of "CSI: Miami" it is tough to take him seriously) and it was filmed in the Danvers Mental Hospital just outside Boston, so I knew it would have some interest for the Doc. Plus I thought that as I'd seen it before I wouldn't get freaked out, but funnily enough because I knew what was going on I was much more aware of some of the subtle touches that really start to build up the tension.  As it turned out Doc was mildly entertained and thought no more about it after the closing credits.  I, of course, couldn't stop thinking about the film, got myself all freaked out and slept fitfully.

The other thing is that the clocks going back is not a concept that a baby, or indeed cats, have any interest in trying to understand.  Eva has established a morning routine, I wouldn't be so presumptuous as to suggest I had a thing to do with it, and she stuck to it (As did the cats - They are used to breakfast before 8 these days).  That was fine, but Evalyn must still have sensed something was off because she has been fractious all day.  She's been just a bit whimpery, it's not been enough to be worrying but it's certainly enough to be exhausting.  I'm so glad that Doc was here today, because by mid-afternoon I was feeling a wee bit whimpery myself and he was just great!  And he cooked egg fried rice for dinner! I love that man!

With any luck I'll sleep better tonight, and Eva will be in a brighter mood tomorrow.

My Mum and My Baby.

Moth's flight home was yesterday morning, so I walked to her hotel with Eva to have breakfast before she left.  Eva was a fairly well behaved baby, but she did want to be held; this actually turned out to be very useful because I suddenly realised I hadn't taken any pictures of my Mum holding her.  What was I thinking?!?!  I got a couple of really nice pictures of the two of them, which made me very happy!

I was really sad to see Moth go, but that's the problem with moving to a foreign country isn't it?  The very definition of it being foreign is that it's far away from home, and that sometimes sucks quite frankly.

On the other hand Eva is a little bit fractious at the moment, which I think is because she's hitting a developmental stage (yes, I have a book about that too.  This one's called "The Wonder Weeks", and it apparently predicts these points in a baby's young life so you can brace for them.  You can't avoid them, just be slighltly more mentally prepared.)  Eva was really quite well behaved and snuggly whilst Moth was here, so that was actually pretty great timing in many ways.

I just hope that the next time Moth visits or we go home to England (I think it's Evalyn's home too, right?) it can be for longer, of course by then Eva will be a little bit older too, so she might be more aware of things.  That would be lovely.

Happy 60th Liz!

We went to Asheville for my haircut on Saturday, and we had a few other things to take care of as well. Mostly this involved going to shops that we do not have in our own small town; for example, why would we need a maternity shop actually in our town?  I mean, who gets pregnant here?  Aren't babies just found in a cabbage patch?  It's stuff like that about living in a small town that drives me crazy!

Anyway...

We also decided to go to World Market and buy some British food.  We are fully stocked with Hobnobs, Branston Pickle, Malteasers and Tunnock's Teacakes (although I've already eaten all the Wine Gums).  I also wanted to find a small dish, so we went to look in their kitchenwares section - And discovered a display of Diamond Jubilee related nonsense!  Oh deep joy!  Naturally we snapped up a commemerative mug, and if there had been a tea towel I would have bought that too.

This lucky find meant that for the actual Jubilee I was able to sit on the lawn eating scones with jam and clotted cream and drinking PG Tips out of a proper Diamond Jubilee mug. Brilliant!

How Now Brown Cow.

Over the weekend I was persuaded to actually leave the house and meet new people, which was fairly pleasant and I will probably repeat the experiment again.

The only thing I found uncomfortable was being told by a person who I'd never met or spoken to before, that my british accent was "mellowing" (how the hell would you know buddy? Oh, and I'm pretty sure it isn't because my Mum would have told me when I spoke to her on Saturday) and that I'd probably end up losing it all together in a few years time.  It's just an odd thing to declare to someone you've just met, isn't it?

Here's the thing, I love regional accents, but I myself have simply never had a regional accent of any sort, so I speak what is best described as nicely-brought-up-middle-class-ese.  I am reasonably certain that if I was going to have picked up an accent, then logically it should have been whilst I was a child or a teenager, when I was presumably more easily influenced and wanting to fit in; why would I suddenly change my accent in my mid-thirties?  I'm really quite happy with how I speak, and there isn't any pressure for me to change; in fact I get the distinct impression that having a British accent is one of my main selling points to an American market, if you want to be cynical about the thing.  I'm sure I've picked up some new words and phrases, but that's just sensible if you want to communicate with people.

Yeah, so that annoyed me quite a bit now that I think about it. In fact I'm tempted to find a course of internet elocution lessons, or listen to a lot of BBC radio broadcasts from the fifties to really nail that received pronunciation thing down.

Such a Girl!

On Monday we drove to Winston Salem for Genetics Counseling ("Are you related?" "No, that seems highly unlikely - Did you clock the accents?" * ) and an ultrasound. At this point they can say, with 95% degree of accuracy, what gender your baby is and our tech was pretty certain that the alien spawn is a girl!

This is especially good because we were finding it difficult to choose a name for a boy, but we both really like the name Evalyn for a girl. I had a Great-Aunt Eveline who I was very fond of, and, whilst Doc C never met her, he just really loves the name. Just like my Aunty our daughter will be Eva for short, but we are going with a different spelling to make the pronunciation clearer - If we spell it Eveline she will almost certainly be referred to as "Eve Line" or possibly "Ever Line", and we want her name to be pronounced "Eva Lin". 

We were just brain-storming names when I first threw Evalyn out as a suggestion and I didn't think much more about it, until the Doc brought it up again when we were having the same discussion on another occasion. He really liked the name and was already very keen that we call our child that if she were a girl (I don't think I was even pregnant at this point!). I do think it's a pretty name, but it's also good that Aunty Eva was actually quite amazing in her own way. Eva was a Major in the army, which was one of those details of her earlier life that blew my mind as a child; because to me she was the woman who knitted me hooded cardigans, made me elaborate soft toys, gave me books like the "Chronicle of the 20th Century" and could be relied upon for incredibly rich tea-time confections. I also think it was damn cool that she didn't marry and never seemed to regret that particularly; she was proudly independent and self-reliant, so, whilst I'm sure we would disagree on things like politics if she were still alive today, her strength of character is definitely something that I hope my daughter will be inspired by.

 

* When we lived in London and were taking the night-bus home one evening, the drunk guy sitting in front of us turned around and, having clearly been eavesdropping on our bus-ride banter, abruptly asked "Are you brother and sister?" and then said "No, because you are British and he's American, so are you a couple?". Drunk guy's girlfriend was mortified, but it was really funny!

Contrasting Presidential Visits.

So, apparently, the President was in town today. I say "apparently" because no-one I know saw him first hand, and the pictures of him in the general store buying macaroons could have been photoshopped.

Still, the local traffic ground to a halt and there was the distinct sound of helicopters overhead, so I will concede it seems highly possible. At least he had the good manners to visit mid-afternoon, so he didn't mess up the commuter traffic. When W visited London a few years back, TfL had to re-route the 38 bus, and the driver of the one I was on got lost. We ended up heading over Battersea Bridge looking for a roundabout so we could turn round and head back the other way. That was, admittedly, the best excuse I have ever had for being an hour late into the office, but it did nothing to improve my opinion of Bush the Younger.

Up-Beat with a Hint of Mint.

You know what really cheers a girl up on a Monday when there is fricking rioting going on just round the corner from her old house? An 80's music internet radio station and the delivery of her internet purchases.  I think it's the combination of heavy synth and a free lipgloss that is really making all the difference.

It's good to be distracted by something, because otherwise I'd be hitting renew every 30 seconds on Facebook to check my friends in London are all ok. I don't like this one little bit.

Disco Chicken.

This is Disco Chicken, and she's Doc C's favourite objet d'art for illustrating kitsch in lectures. She's extremely well travelled for an ugly bird statue. Disco Chicken's origins are misty but she came into Doc life when she was abandoned at the recording studio he worked at in Boston, then she came to London with him, and she went to stay with my Mum for an extended visit to the beautiful Norfolk countryside when we moved to North Carolina.

I managed to fit her in one of my suitcases, as a special surprise for the Doc, and I feel I should mention that she's about the same size as my Brown Betty teapot, so it was really quite the sacrifice on my part. Still, it will not be another three years before I go home for another visit so hopefully I won't regret this great generosity.

Food Parcel.

I'd packed my bags, and was really quite pleased with myself for keeping them within the weight limit - until I realised I hadn't stocked up on supplies. So when Mum went to Tesco I went too, and filled up a basket with things I needed to take back to North Carolina.

There is at least another stone of awkwardly shaped stuff to wedge into my cases and hand luggage. I am intrigued, and not a little intimidated, by the black label Marmite, it's matured to be even stronger.

The Past in Boxes.

This afternoon Mum suggested that I look over the stuff that was put in storage in the attic when Doc C and I left for America. It's all those things I haven't seen for three years, some of which I've missed desperately (all of my earrings!), some of which I frankly had forgotten I owned but have fallen in love with again (a pair of trays decorated with girly playing cards!), then some stuff that could immediately be put in the charity shop pile (I love Calvin and Hobbes, but they are big books to pack and imminently replaceable) and still more stuff that I was bemused by (I found three odd socks carefully packed in a lovely gold box. What was I thinking there?)

It was definitely a good thing that I looked over what I already owned before I went shopping in earnest, because I already have more belongings than I can carry onto the plane, so adding to it seems like a fool's errand. Being an ex-bookseller it is hardly surprising that my biggest problem is my beloved collection of books, some of which I've read and re-read a hundred times since I was a kid, and I've done well to reduce it down to just one medium size box - but in all honesty I can't actually close the lid on that already, and there are more books that I still want to bring. Mum's point about the usefulness of a Kindle is well timed, because I can see the benefit of having everything reduced down to a compact tablet. That still wouldn't be entirely sufficient, because a lot of my books are second-hand copies with great covers, or books that have fallen out of publication, or they've been signed by the author and how can you get that type of thing on a Kindle?

Anyway I have some time to further curate the collection before I go back to North Carolina, so in the mean time I've arranged it around the bedroom; so I can look at it at my leisure and make some difficult decisions. I suspect the framed photo of the 38 bus might just have the edge over the framed photo of seagulls on the Palace Pier, but we shall see.

Two Hours in Norwich.

Mum had a meeting this morning so she took me into Norwich with her, and turned me loose for two hours. It's always disconcerting to realise how much a city has changed, but I could still find my way around without too much difficulty.

One of my first stops was Waterstones, where they had a Dalek plonked next to the escalator apparently browsing the Classics section. He was suitably grumpy, and threatened to exterminate me, which was thrilling. There was a sign taped to the front saying to please be gentle with him because he was very old, but I don't know why he was there or if he was an original cast member or anything really. Still, a DALEK!

Then I went to the bank to see if I could remember what the PIN for my cashcard might be. Now sometimes when one is writing a blog one has to consider the likely audience, and I know this week that Doc C will be reading this, so I'm almost reluctant to blog about this... But I thought it was funny, so bugger it!

I put my card into the ATM, and typed in the PIN that I thought was most likely. The machine happily brought up the screen asking how much money I wanted, I decided on £50, whereupon it told me by card had expired and spat the thing out. Oh. Hmmm. Good thing Doc C gave me his cashcard and PIN before I left, eh? That worked beautifully, so I do have access to British currency whilst I'm here. Hoorah! Iknow that Doc will now fret about what i would have done had he not lent me his card, but I'd have been fine. If necessary I was thinking I could have transfered the money into Mum's account and she could get it out for me. No problem, just a touch more complicated.

Back Home.

I'm back home at my parent's house! Actually "home" is a relatively fluid concept, because they have moved house 5 or 6 times since I left for University - But they moved back to the village that I went to primary school in, so this feels very familiar indeed despite it being the first time I've been in this house.

The flight was fine, I didn't sleep of course, but I did try to and I didn't spend the entire eight hours watching crappy films. Just the three hours.

I'd promised Mum that I wouldn't sleep in the car on the way to her house from the airport. That's about a three hour drive, and towards the end of it I was going a bit cross-eyed from the effort of keeping my eyes open and my responses relatively lucid. But I did it! Yay! It is possible, it's just not at all pretty.

As soon as Mum had finished the tour of the new house, I climbed into bed and slept for five hours.

And relax. With a glass of wine.

Car Dependency - An Epiphany.

Recently my friend Shawn tweeted (@idleformat) that Brighton was third in least car-dependent UK cities list.  I followed the link he provided to see which UK cities had had beaten my old home in the survey.

Nottingham topped survey ahead of London despite a multi-billion pound taxpayer investment in the capital's tube and bus services that is the envy of sister cities across the UK. Brighton came third, reflecting its much-admired bus network, its umbilical rail links with London and a size perfectly pitched for commuting cyclists and walkers. 

I started my working life in Nottingham, before moving to Brighton and then London.  People are surprised I don't drive, but according to this report I've spent the majority of my adult life living and/or working in cities where it was totally unnecessary to own a car.

It's like a light bulb went off for me!  No wonder I can't wrap my head around a culture that relies so heavily on private transportation; I'm used to actively pedestrianised city centers, good public transport options and a semi-decent (let's not entirely fib here and say "reliable") national train network.  

And yes, I do think that's better actually.

*Postscript* The BBC has a report on the new double deckers that London's shelling out seven point eight million pounds for.  I like the bits that have been directly lifted from the classic Routemaster, and the reduced carbon emissions sound good too.

 

Phraseology.

One of the weirder cultural differences is subtleties of information presentation or queries in everyday conversation.  Even before we moved here I was aware of this because Doc used to get SO cross with me when he'd say "Do you have any water?" and I'd say "Yes, I do.".  The problem was that I thought he was asking for information, which seemed a little odd because I always carry a bottle of water everywhere, but actually he was asking to drink some of my water.  He thought I was being rude and making fun of him, and I couldn't understand why he was getting so huffy.  Eventually we realised it was simply a difference in , because in the UK we would just say "Hey, can I have some of your water?" if that's what we want, which saves any confusion.  Doc wasn't very clear on why not asking the question directly is more polite, but until I asked it hadn't occurred to him that his phrasing of the request was in any way ambiguous.

Similarly when someone is explaining something complicated to you, let's say particle physics just for fun, it's going to be a one sided conversation for the most part.  In the UK to indicate we are paying attention, especially if it's something really dull, or to encourage the person to carry on talking, we would politely smile, nod and occasionally say "right", or "yes" or something else positive.  I find if I do that here the person talking stops, and asks if I already know what they are talking about, then I have to explain that I was just acknowledging paying attention.  It's most odd.

In my previous office I had a colleague who, whenever she gave me information, seemed to get stuck in a loop.  She'd say "X" and I'd say "Ok, thanks".  Then she'd explain X again in a different way, and I'd say "Right! I understand" and this could go on for several years minutes.  I finally realised that she likes to top-and-tail a conversation, so if I said something in response, she then had say something else.  That's fine, I don't care about having the last line, but I cannot work out for the life of me how to acknowledge that I have understood the information without saying something to that effect.  It was very trying.

I'm sure I can be bewildering too, and I know that I employ a particularly British trick of asking "You know Edith?" before launching into a story about her.  I know you know Edith, it's a rhetorical question which is simply alerting you to the fact I am about to tell you something about Edith, but here people look at me funny and answer the question seriously.

Stocking Up On British Food.

Doc C had done a bit of research and discovered a chain called World Market, which happened to have a store in Charlotte.  We went there on our way back from the Ok Go gig, and discovered a treasure trove of consumables. 

In this picture you can see

• The last two bottles of Fentimans' Ginger Beer they had 
• A bag of Malteasers
• A bag of Giant Chocolate Buttons
• A bag of Licorice Allsorts (Yeah, I wouldn't usually go for licorice either, but when you know you can't have something it develops an appeal)
• A tub of Bird's Custard Powder
• Fry's Turkish Delight
• Blackcurrant Jam
• Bisto Gravy Granule
• Branston Pickle
• Oat Cakes
• Jacob's Cream Crackers
• German Fitness Bread
• Milk Chocolate Hobnobs
• Mcvities Chocolate Digestives
• Cadbury's Fingers
• AND, although it's not pictured, Heinz Salad Cream

Happy sigh.  The Doc is a damn fine husband.

Election 2010.

The results of the UK election have started to come in, and I can hardly bear to look.  I found out far too late that I can actually register from the US for a postal vote, but it involves tracking down a fellow Brit and so I only discovered this when I was asked to vouch for someone else as a matter of looming deadline urgency.  This means that I haven't voted this time, but next time I will!  

One of the things about learning about the Suffragettes at an all girl school is that there was a classroom wide feeling of indignation at the idea that women were once considered incapable to wield a political vote, it makes quite an impression on a pre-teen.

My main hope for this election is that the Tories don't get in, not that I'm mad keen on Labour right now; either way Doc will tease me about having a less cool leader of state than the US does.  In any event it looks as though Brighton Pavilion has elected an MP from the Green Party, which is really good news.

An Hour Less.

Today was not just a Monday.  It was not just a Monday after Spring Break.  It was A Monday after Spring Break AND the clocks springing forward. 

In other words it was hellish.

Clocks back I get; an extra hour of sleep?  I am on board (And it's not just extra sleep, I also fondly remember the occasion at university when we thought the change in time would mean an extra hour of dancing and we were extremely disappointed when the club's clocks didn't change, meaning it closed as usual.  sigh.)  Losing an hour? On a Sunday?  That's just masochistic.

It seems to take an extra toll on me in the US, which maybe because subliminally I can tell I'm out of sync with the whole of Europe for two weeks.  It's very disconcerting.

Lost and Found: Mitten.

I found a glove outside my office this week, and I scooped it up and brought it inside for safe keeping.  It's been sat on the hallway sideboard for a few days now.

I'm pretty sure it's hand-made, because of some of the details to it.

In particular that little bit of light blue in the top stripe speaks to me of someone finishing off a remnant from their stash.

Of course I shall be submitting it to Unloved Glove; which is geographically based in Winchester and was pointed to me by Mum (who is in Norfolk), after she read about it on @ctramsey's (who is here in NC) Twitter feed, because I had traded tweets with him about the magical properties of toast.

Wouldn't it be hilarious if that convoluted chain of communication somehow lead to the mitten being re-united with it's twin?

Christmas Tree '09

OK, FINE.

I'll decorate the Christmas tree.

This year I'm keeping things very simple - Lights, gold beads and a Union Jack paper-chain.  The paper-chain was a birthday present from my Mum, and it makes me very happy!

 
 
 

"If You Want to Be A Record Breaker!"

Doc C has to go to the doctor on Monday, and for reasons we needn't go into here, he can't eat anything on Sunday except for blue or yellow jello.  We were talking about that on the way into work this morning, and I said that I quite like jelly (as long as I don't think about the actual gelatin of course).  Doc looked at me and said "Jelly or Jell-O?", and I explained that in England we call Jell-O Jelly.  So Doc asked if that meant we make Jelly moulds, which yes we do; but we'd just call it Jelly, and the shaped mould part would usually be assumed (My Mum had a mould shaped like a rabbit for example.  Or it might have been a cat.  Hmmm).  Actually, a few days ago, a British archaeologist we were watching on a documentary about Pompeii described something as having held it's shape, like "a Jello Mould", and I thought it was really odd because it was so Americanised a way of phrasing it.

The UK Vs US thing still crops up occasionally, not in a confrontational way but sometimes something that was just an ingrained aspect of my childhood will pop into my head and no-one will have the slightest clue what I'm talking about.  For example, when I started singing the theme tune to "Record Breakers", which I know wasn't shown over here, so then I tried explaining what it was to Doc C and he was just bemused by the whole thing.  Possibly my explanation was a little garbled -

"Well, it was a kid's TV show and it was always on.  The presenter was Roy Castle and he sang the theme tune, and played the trumpet on the theme tune, and lead record breaking tap dance routines on that fountain at BBC Television Centre.  Oh, and they had Norris McWhirter, who was a proper adjudicator from the Guiness Book of Records, and people would, um, break records.  Which is why it was called 'Record Breakers'.  Anyway... "Dedication. Ooh Dedication.  Dedication!  That's what you need! If you want to be the best, and if you want to beat the rest, Oo-Oh Dedication's what you need!'"

Doc's used to that sort of thing every now and again, but it's a damn catchy theme tune to inflict on a poor unsuspecting husband.

AND - I found out this week that they don't really do Advent Calendars in the South!  I still can't quite get my head around that one.  No tiny piece of chocolate shaped like an elf?  No little plastic toys that are almost certainly a choking hazard?  No pictures of mangers and stars?  But how did you know when it actually was Christmas?

The Watch Has Two Faces.

As you may remember from back in September, I decided that it was about time I started wearing a watch.  I put three different watches on my Amazon wish list, and my lovely Mother somehow knew exactly which one of the silver-watches-with-quartz-movement-and-a-black-leather-strap was my favourite.  She is amazing like that.

I love it!

As you can see it's got that classic tank watch feel to it; but with a long face to accommodate two dials on it, which you can set to different time zones. 

So I am now able to see the time in both the United States (Arabic Numerals) and Great Britain (Roman Numerals) at a single glance. I find that very reassuring.

Beautiful Birthday Cards.

Doc brought me home at lunchtime, and on the way we stopped off at the post office where there were very exciting parcels from my lovely Mum.  They weren't there yesterday, so her timing was pin-point accurate and all the more impressive for it!

One of my Mother's many many talents is her ability to find the perfect card for any occasion, so it's always a pleasure to open an envelope with her writing on.  Look at these beauties:

I think I may need to get these framed.

Just so stunning, and almost guaranteed to make any Londoner and/or Brightonian get a lump in their throat.    Mum got these from the Obiko website, and they are from the Seagull sites range.  Also, Mum tells me the artist was very nice too!

Remember, Remember The Fifth of November.

Happy Guy Fawkes!

Doc made me a jacket potato with baked beans and sausages, and took this photo of me playing with the sparklers we had saved from the Fourth of July.  The choice of t-shirt was unintentional, but doesn't it look like the face of Big Ben has flame bursting out of it?

And those flappy things at either side of the sparkles, those would be my hands.  Apparently, I still get very excited about sparklers.

Amigurumi Wedding.

Yesterday I had a twitter from Rowan to say that she had received the amigurumi cake toppers before the wedding party left the chateau.

I had hidden some pictures for Row and Nairn to see in advance, but waited to post the pictures on Alien Spouse until after the wedding.  Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise of the dress!

Over all I think I was most pleased with the kilt and tie on the Mini-Nairn.  With Mini-Row I think that the hair and flowers worked out best, but she also has an impressive cleavage for a crochet lady!

I have to say I was really disappointed with FedEx.  I paid extra for guaranteed two day delivery and the cake toppers should have been delivered on the Thursday before the wedding.  As it was they hung out in a French FedEx depot for three days, and missed the wedding entirely.  It was really frustrating to look at the on-line tracking and see that they were just sitting there!  Ugh! 

Still, although the amigurumi didn't arrive in time for the wedding, but they did go on the honeymoon to Asia.  My crochet is much better traveled then I am!

Biometrics Capturing Appointment.

In the PO Box today were two things for me; one was a text book, and the other was a letter from the USCIS scheduling my appointment to got to the Application Support Center in Charlotte so that they can "capture" my biometrics and it's in four weeks time. Considering the last letter I got from USCIS indicated it could take up to twelve months for this to be scheduled, getting the appointment so quickly was quite a surprise.

However my favourite part of the letter has to be the postscript which specifically says that "If you have open wounds or bandages/casts when you appear, the USCIS may reschedule your appointment if it is determined you injuries will interfere with taking your biometrics". Noted.

Skirt and Boots.

I bloody love Autumn. Today I wore my brown DM boots, with a skirt from H&M. 

Not just any skirt mind you, this is an olive green heavy cotton skirt, with a black lace print design.  I really like the slightly flared shape, and all in all it's just a great skirt.

Truthfully I haven't been able to wear it for about 5 years, because I've just been too fat for it.  You know how you are supposed to go through your wardrobe and edit out anything you haven't worn for a year or more?  I have a similar method, which simply involves moving house, or even continents, every few years, and see what I can be bothered to pack.  Anything I still really like usually makes the selection.

Which is why I brought a skirt I couldn't actually zip up to America with me.  It's got nothing to do with this being the skirt I wore on my first date with Doc C.  That's just a total coincidence.

Parcel Post.

One of the things I like about ordering things, or sending them, is then tracking the progress on-line.  It's nice to know exactly where my stuff is in the world.

Except the Amigurumi departed Indianapolis at 5:03am this morning, and that's the last time they checked in.  What are they doing now?  Are they now on a flight to France, or do they have to go somewhere else in America first?  I'd really like to not only know where they've been, but what their itinerary is likely to be.

I can see why that information isn't given out, because if there was a diversion from the projected route it would be a cause for concern, but it's so odd to have the history of the journey at one's finger tips and no clear idea of what to expect next.

Crochet Frenzy Succesfull!

My amigurumi project is complete!  Now all I have to do is to get these little guys to France by Saturday, in time for Rowan and Nairn's wedding.  I am so disappointed that I'll be missing this wedding myself, but I am determined to be represented by my crochet.

Of course I've taken photos, but I really think the bride and groom see their Mini-Me cake toppers first.

Really Important Bits of Paper.

This afternoon I hand-delivered documents to Human Resources and the Graduate School that confirm which courses I'll be taking for my MA and request a fee waiver because I'm a university staff member.  Yay for free university courses!

At the same time I also took the letter I recently received from the Immigration Service, which acknowledges receipt of my application for my visa to be extended.  This is because my initial visa was for two years, and it runs out at the end of October.  To extend my visa I had to apply 90 days before the expiration date, but not earlier than that.  The letter of receipt is important because it is also an extension of my visa.  The really crucial thing being that it allows me to work and travel for another year, whilst I'm waiting for another letter which will give me an appointment time for biometric processing.  I wanted to make sure that the University had copies of the letter in a couple of different places, so that there are no problems in October with either my paying gig or my continued education.

Funnily enough the graduate director for the English department sympathised with me this week about all of the red tape that I needed to deal with to get onto the English Lit MA program.  Really though that seemed like almost nothing compared with getting and maintaining my alien spouse visa.

HUGE Insect Photo Segues into Children's Literary Allusion.

On the way to the car this evening we encountered a large caterpillar when Doc nearly trod on it.

I'm used to caterpillars in England being relatively small, but this thing was ENORMOUS.   To give you some idea, I took a photo with my hand in the shot for scale and it's only slightly smaller my index finger.  I'd have posted that shot, but this was a bug on a mission and he was moving so fast that I didn't have time to position my hand next to it and get a nice clear picture before the insect undulated out of focus.

This was definitely the best picture I got, but it doesn't convey the sense of urgency with which the caterpillar was moving.  It was as if the Caterpillar and the White Rabbit had swapped roles for the day, and that meant that our Caterpillar friend was late for an important function, whilst the White Rabbit got to chill out on top of a toadstool with a nice hookah pipe for once.  I know, I know, it's a bit lazy to immediately reach for the Lewis Carrol reference, but this thing was so over-sized I could easily have imagined Alice having quite a long chat with him.

Written Driving Test: Success!

I took this morning off work so that we could go to the DMV office and I could take the test to get a driver's permit.  That would allow me to drive with a licenced driver over 18 years of age in the car, so in other words I still wouldn't be going anywhere without Doc C for a while but at least I could be driving.

We decided to go as soon as the office opened today, which is 8, and there was no one else there so I went straight in and got on with it.

As far as I'm aware I didn't get anything wrong on the sight test, or the traffic signs quiz.  The officer would have told me, right? Then I had to sit at a touch screen terminal and take a multiple choice test.  I had heard many stories about how ridiculous the questions are, and you have to get 20 out of 25 right to pass.  I've been practicing using an app on the iPod, of course there's an app for that, which meant I got comfortable with only answering if I knew I knew the answer and skipping any I would just have been guessing on.  The ones you skip come up again at the end of the quiz anyway, so you get another chance to answer those.
I answered nineteen questions in a row correctly, and the twentieth question was about the exact punishment is for allowing an underage person to use your driver's licence to buy alcohol.  I know the State frowns on that, as indeed they should, but I wasn't sure how severe the punishment was.  I decided to skip that one, and the next question was one I knew, so that was fine!

And that's how I passed the NC DMV written driving test!  First go!  With no wrong answers!

I was extremely glad at that point to have had my haircut on Saturday, because then I had my photo taken for the official learner's permit card.  Doc had assured me this wouldn't happen, so I didn't put any make-up on this morning, but at least my hair wasn't totally embarrassing.

Doc C had already told me that I was not to pretend to have failed if I had passed, so I went straight back to the waiting room with a big smile on my face and brandishing my temporary permit.  Then Doc drove me to an empty car park and I drove around a little bit.  It was most exhilarating, even if I didn't go about first gear.

Mardy Monday.

The only problem with really fun weekends is that the next working day is particularly painful.  I know I'm hardly being original here, but OMG I hate Mondays.

Monday 3rd August 2009

Dear Diary,

Went to the gym, this morning and did my cardio.

 My main task today has been continuing my forensic examination of the filing cabinets.  Today's best find was a selection of different colour samples of heavy paper for a brochure printed in 1998. 

Mid-morning I went with Doc to get a soy latte, and discovered today was Mayan Chocolate Brioche Day at the best bakery in town.  Much rejoicing.

At lunch time I took care of some errands; paid my credit card bill, booked a hair cut, all that kind of stuff. I also went to the USCIS website to see what I need to do to remove the temporary status from my visa, which is mandatory 90 days before the two year anniversary of being granted the temporary permanent resident card.  Was slightly disappointed to note there is a filing fee of several hundred dollars.

sigh.

Is it any wonder that Mondays get such bad reviews?  Excepting the brioche of course, because that was freakishly delicious.  Apart from enjoying that pastry goodness with a banana for lunch,  I must admit to having been fairly mardy pretty much from 8:30 this morning to 5:35 this evening, which was when my gorgeous husband whisked me away.

By the way, I really like the word "Mardy", but I realise it's probably not widely used in the US.  Actually, I did some research (I googled it - And I'm aware they hate people using the name as a verb like that, but I care not) I found it on the Urban Dictionary  .  Apparently the word is local to Derbyshire, which is where I went to University.  I'd like to suggest that more people add it to their vocabulary, along with the equally evocative "Numpty".

Smiley Face, New Bike.

Doc announced this morning that he was going to look at bikes today, with a view to purchasing one. When he moved to London he brought his trusty bike, The Beast, with him and I remember sitting on the grass outside the National Portrait Gallery when we first started dating and seeing him come cycling up and thinking what a handsome devil he was, so I was all for him getting another bike.  For the past year or more I have been trying my best to persuade him that it would be a good investment in his health, both physical and mental, because the man needs to burn off energy some how!

There are some really good bike shops in town so Doc didn't have to travel far for his fix.  He was gone for about three hours, I didn't go because I would just have been in the way really and I wanted to watch more episodes of "Fantasy Island", then I got a text announcing Doc C was a very happy man.  The smiley face I super-imposed on this picture looks positively dour in comparison to the expression he had on his face when he got home with his new friend.

It's a Tarmac made by Specialized, with an all carbon fiber frame, so it weighs a whole 17 pounds.  That's slightly less than the cats weigh, and you definitely can't get anywhere at all on them.

Driving Test Preparation.

This will be the summer that I learn to drive on the opposite side of the road, it's not the wrong side of the road it is just differently orientated and that's fine.  To get my learner's permit I have to pass the DMV's sight test, sign recognition test and computerised multiple choice test on the highway code; or whatever it's called here, that won't be one of the questions will it?

I have been doing some on-line research to prepare myself, and one of the websites that I looked at had the following dire warning:

"Failing your DMV exam has some harsh consequences.

• You have to make a new appointment at the DMV.
• Take more time out of school or work.
• Waste more time studying the DMV handbook.
• Then waiting in line at the DMV to do it all over again and hope for the best.

Passing is way better. So, make sure you practice!"

So let me understand this.  There is a possibility that I might have to wait in a queue?  To get the opportunity to demonstrate that I will be safe behind the wheel of a car?  And that I will have to waste my time reading the DMV handbook?  When you consider that traffic accidents are only the sixth highest cause of preventable death in the US, that seems draconian.

Fireworks, Friends and Smores.

Yesterday evening ended up being totally different to my initial plans, but we had a lot of fun!  The weather turned out to be really nice, so our friends called to say they were going to come a bit later so they could watch the fireworks from the parkway.

Well that sounded like fun, so we decided to join them.  We sat in the middle of a meadow, watching coloured explosions rocketing over the tree line on the mountains, which was very pretty.  I just wish I'd put on a few more layers, because by the time the display was over my toes felt like ice cubes.

Then we came back to the house and made smores, lots of smores!  Yay! Happy Fourth indeed!

Fourth of July Lounging.

Today being the Fourth of July we invited some friends over to barbecue some burgers, and then play poker.  Somehow though I got the impression that today's weather was supposed to be bad, so I called everyone to cancel the BBQ part and come a bit later for the card game.

Well, naturally the weather is gorgeous today and we could have cooked a treat out there.  Grrr.

Still, that does give me more time to laze around reading Agatha Christie short stories and trim the cat's claws.  Edith wasn't exactly keen but acquiesced because with all her fur she's just too warm to kick up a stink at the moment; unfortunately Nancy was convinced I was trying to kill her and complained like hell.  I only managed to do Nancy's front paws, so we have to go through all that again to get her back claws too.  sigh.

Parcel Post.

After the gym today I went to my office, and Doc went to the post office.  He came back to my office with two parcels.

One was from Threadless, and it was our newest additions to our T-shirt collection.  Hoorah!

Even better we had a parcel from my Mum, and it was very exciting!  Doc gleefully ran off home with his beloved "Star Trek" DVD box set, so he could watch "The Empire Strikes Back" on our big telly.  My share of the parcel was a new pair of really nice linen trousers and some proper M&S undies; the best part about it for me though was that the clothes were size smaller than all of the stuff I brought over with me!  Yay!  I couldn't wait to get home this evening, so I could try things on to really confirm I'm now back to a UK size 14.  And I am!

I also have a packet of Iced Gems, which Mum tells me are not as good as they used to be.  I will probably hoard those for a few days, so I can give them my undivided attention at the weekend.

Bento Boxes.

Ooh! Bento boxes and accessories.

Want.

Why on earth am I so enchanted by food containers that are exactly the right size for their contents?  I have no clue, all I know is that I am.

***Postscript: When I got home this evening I made myself a lentil curry, with a hard boiled egg and some mango chutney for dinner (Doc ate whilst I was at Pilates) and cooked enough to have the same thing for lunch tomorrow.  I love cold home-made lentil curry!  Even as I was writing this post I was planning which container to put my lunch in for tomorrow, and I was really looking forward to eating it.

Just as I hit publish Doc went into the kitchen to get a snack, but then changed his mind and started filling the dishwasher instead.  I walked into the kitchen just in time to see him rinsing the saucepan my curry had been in, I politely asked what had happened to my lunch and he guiltily admitted to throwing it away without thinking.

So I'll be having a bagel for lunch tomorrow I suppose.  Assuming that's where I left it when I get up in the morning.  sigh.

Smoggy Old London.

In the comments of my last fascinating post on the weather, Miss Joules (Hello!) mentioned that when she tried telling her family in America that "...England gets only a bit more rain than they do, only they get it over three weeks instead of three days, but their preconceived notions are stronger than my factual information."

OMG!  I know exactly what you mean!

Have you ever tried telling an American that London is not foggy?  They will look at you as though you are pathological liar.  They have seen Sherlock Holmes movies, thank you very much, which means they are well aware that London is foggy, so why would I say any different?  Well, because London really does not get "Pea Soupers" any more.  The thing is that actually what London used to get is smog, and  there is much less coal smoke in London, which means that you don't get the same impenetrable fogs in contemporary London. Sorry, I know that is slightly less romantic but it's also a lot better for your health, so there is that.

When I started writing this post I was intending to include a finale in the form of a hilarious anecdote about my lovely Mother-in-Law, but it has been vetoed by Doc C.  This leaves me without a big finish to this post, but trust me it was comedy gold.

Like The Darkside, It's More Efficient. sigh.

This afternoon I went to see my Doctor about this cough I've had since February.  That sounds really dramatic, doesn't it?  I'm fine most of the time, but I wake myself up in the middle of the night because I'm coughing, then I have to go and take some cough syrup which wakes up the cats, then they start zooming all over the place and wake up Doc C.  It's a domino effect.

Anyway, my Doctor looked at my throat and listened to my chest, but she didn't find anything so she sent me for a chest x-ray.  On the NHS I'd have been sent back home to wait for a letter giving me an appointment, which would be in a couple of weeks time and at a completely inconvenient time,  Then I'd have had to change that appointment, which would have delayed it for three more weeks and by the I finally had the x-rays taken I would have been totally fine.
Today I left my Doctor's office with a referral letter, drove five minutes down the road and walked into the outpatients imaging lab.  I waited about twenty minutes, put on an extremely flattering hospital gown, had my x-rays taken, changed out of the gown and was on my way home ten minutes later.

When we got in we made a cup of tea and watched "Sophie's Choice".

Like you do on a Monday.

A Most Varied Saturday.

 This morning when I came down to feed the cats I immediately noticed that the cat tower had been knocked over, because I am perceptive like that.  What I don't understand is how the thing fell on it's side without waking me or The Doc up.  I mean it's pretty big, wouldn't it have made some noise?

Anyway, then Doc made me crumpets for breakfast.  This time I had jam on mine.  It was nice.

Then we went food shopping and on the way we stopped off at the pet shop.  We wanted a food container, but they had none in stock.  However they did have cat harnesses and leads.  More of that later...

On the way to the supermarket we were walking passed a small bookshop and I spotted Tori Spelling's autobiography "Stori Telling" on the sale table.  It is now mine.  It turned out that it was actually a bookshop, newsagents and cigar shop.  We browsed the magazines, and Doc asked me who the little old lady sitting outside was doing out there; on the way in I'd seen that she had a stack of books and a sign saying she was doing a signing.  Doc went back outside to chat with her, whilst I was asking about the empty cigar boxes they had on top of the shelves.  It turned out they were all for sale, and I have found a fantastic square box with a open front to it for $3.  I have no idea what I'll do with it, but it just looks really useful for something.  When I went back out, Doc had decided to buy two books from the author outside, she was a Russian emigre who had moved to the US when she was 8.  Her first book was about that experience, and the second book was a collection of the letters she and her husband wrote to each other before they married.  Doc asked her to sign the second book and bought it for me; she also gave him a copy of her husband's poetry, I think just because he was interested in it.

After doing the food shopping we came home, and put the harness on the cats one at a time.  They had no idea what the hell was going on, and as you can see Nancy looked particularly comfortable in it.  Poor Nance liked the going outside part, but hated the harness, so she kept walking backwards to try and get out of it.  Edith mainly just rolled around on the front path.

Then I came back in for my movie marathon.  "I Married A Monster from Outer Space" was fun, Doc went so far as to say it was "Rocking", mainly because of the surprisingly good special effects and some good solid performances.  As planned I then watched "Cheaper by the Dozen" which Doc wasn't interested in, so he cooked and just caught the odd scene.  Straight after that on TCM was "Funny Girl" OMG!  Doc lasted about 15 minutes before declaring he had enough.  I can't think why.  I mean I'm not a huge Barbra fan, but her early movie career was pretty good, so I watched the start and end around the "Ashes to Ashes" finale.  It was a very good evening for film and TV.

Oh, That picture in the bottom left hand corner?  That would be Edith killing her crinkly shiny ball toy, because I think it's hilarious when she does that.  She takes it so seriously!

The Knitted Village.

This is very impressive, a miniature replica of a village knitted by people who live there.  The BBC has photos here, the report says that it took 40 people 23 years to complete

The only thing that worries me is the amount of space it must take up, because it's hard to tell from the pictures and they don't give a precise square footage.  Apparently this is going to be sold off in individual pieces to raise money for charity, but I bet not all of it will be sold or they just start making another one.

This is precisely why I make sure I know where my amigurumis are going before I start them, otherwise I'll get over attached to them and my entire house would end up waist deep in chubby little figures made from yarn.  Although the cats would love that I'm sure.

Speaking of amigurumis, I am gearing up to make Rorschach from "The Watchmen" this weekend, I bought the right colours of cotton yarn when we were in Philladelphia but I've been putting it off because I have no idea how I am going to do the face, or the hat and those are the main distinguishing features.  Anyway, I'll sketch it out tonight, and just start the thing tomorrow.

After that I'm going to make something for my cousin Hollie (She initially asked for the green monster, which I think means Cthulu, but I'm thinking we may need to discuss this a bit before I start), but then there will be a new contest.  So it won't be for a few weeks, but I want to give you some advance notice because this is going to be a bit more complicated than the first one, and it's much more about you guys! 

Here's the basic idea,

1. You suggest characters that you would like to see crocheted amigurumis of. 
2. I will then pick a shortlist (Let's all assume that I get more than one entry for this! Hopefully!), and do an initial sketch how I think I would make them.
3. I will post those basic designs, and you can vote on which character I make. 
4. The winner will be the person who originated the idea, and they will get the amigurumi, so make sure you suggest things that you actually want!  

It can be a fictional character or real person (Like Niall's Zombie Queen Mother), or something you've totally made up, but can describe clearly (Ella's guess of a vampire librarian bunny would be a great example, I know exactly how I would do that!).  Anything you want to see crocheted, I will try and work out how to make.  So consider the idea, and be ready for phase one soon!

Don't submit any entries yet.

I'm just mentioning it now, so you can think about it for a bit.

Administrative? Kinda. Professional? Ummm... Sure!

As you probably know this is Administrative Professional's Week...  Yeah, I had no idea either; until today when I was given a card and a present at the weekly departmental meeting.

The gift was a laminated mini poster for "I Married a Monster from Outer Space"!   It's scary how well do these people know me, isn't it?  The film is an alien body-snatcher-esque B-movie from 1958, which looks really fun.  So yes, of course, I immediately added "I Married a Monster from Outer Space" to our Netflix queue, but it actually is scheduled to be screened on TCM on Saturday afternoon.  How weird is that?

My plans for Saturday are simple, whilst Doc is writing or grading or something, I intend to make popcorn, snuggle up with the cats under a blanket on the sofa and watch what promises to be schlocky fun.  Clearly that sounds like a fun afternoon by itself, but immediately after "I Married a Monster from Outer Space" TCM will be showing the 1950 Myrna Loy and Clifton Webb sentimental classic "Cheaper by the Dozen".

Hoorah!  Movie marathon at my house!

Good Source of Fiber.

I never cease to be amazed about which foods I can find here and which I can't.

For example I have only been able to find one specialist place that sells blackcurrant jam, and nowhere at all that stocks rhubarb yogurt; but I can get Dorset Cereals.  I first bought this brand when I was leaving in Brighton, mainly because of the gorgeous packaging; but it turns out they actually make a very tasty muesli.

I am very excited about breakfast now.

A Thoughtful Gift.

Doc actually had a fantastic day on Wednesday.  He should really have bought a lottery ticket.

I think he would almost certainly say that the highlight was one of his students coming to see him with a thank you card and a pack of McVities Digestives Caramels.  Apparently there is a English food shop in Charlotte, who knew?

Doc C is SO delighted, but he hasn't opened them yet.  He's waiting for the perfect cup of tea I think.

Doc C: The Thinking Woman's Crumpet.

When I moved to North Carolina in October 2007 I knew things would be different, and I was somewhat prepared for that; but whilst there are things you can acclimatise to and things that you can import, there are other things that it is very hard to accept are lost to you.

I speak of crumpets.

There are few things as cautiously flavourful, and with such a satisfying texture, as a good crumpet.  Piping hot, dripping with salty butter and accompanied by a good strong cup of tea they are simply delicious.  And impossible to get here.  Oh, I after some trial and error I discovered a half way decent English muffin, and you can easily get PG Tips, but crumpets still alluded me; so naturally crumpets were what I really really wanted.

Today Doc C has successfully made me crumpets. 

The Doc is such a sweet and modest man that all he asks by way of thanks was "big post props" which he later specified should also be "Poetic".  He also wishes that I convey to my Mother just how well her daughter is being cared for, even if she is several thousand miles away from a branch of M&S.  I'm sure you will agree this is only fair and proper.

I would post a picture of the deliciousness, but frankly my camera was upstairs and the hot crumpets, fresh from the griddle, were downstairs.  Would you really expect a woman who has not eaten crumpets in over eighteen months to postpone that reunion for the sake of documentary evidence?  Of course not!

Anyway, Doc made loads!  I'll take some photos tomorrow, after work when I'm enjoying a hot cup of tea and a plate of crumpets.  I think I may spread marmite on them, and then put some slices of good sharp cheddar on top and then grill (American translation: broil) them until the cheese is bubbly, and the marmite has sunk through the deliciously spongey layers.  I almost can't wait, maybe I'll just have that for dinner and go for a new household record in carb consumption in a single 24 hour period.

Yum.

The Picture of the Portrait of Dorian Gray.

I was intending to post a picture of Dorian Gray and his portrait last night, but by the time I was fairly happy with both of them it was half twelve.  So I thought I may as well wait until I had some actual sunlight to get the shot.

As you can see I decided to depict the very early part of the story, so the portrait is still in the preliminary sketch phase.  I'm no Basil Haywood with oil paints, so the finished portrait wasn't really an option.  Although Jonny did offer to stitch a portrait for me, which I think would have been amazing!  Next time we are on the same continent m'Dear, we really must collaborate on something fun!

I hope Jill likes him.  Happy Birthday!

(By the way, if you have never read "The Picture of Dorian Gray" it's a great story, and it's only thirteen chapters long.  It's on Project Guggenheim, so it's free to download if you are in the States; however if you are outside the US copyright laws may prohibit you from downloading it from P.G. for free.  These thing vary.

My favourite film version is the 1945 classic starring Hurd Hatfield, George Sanders, and Angela Lansbury, but there have been several different interpretations some of which look ghastly.  I am very interested in the production being released later this year with Ben Barnes (you know, Prince Caspian), Colin Firth and Ben Chaplin.)

My Plans for a Long Weekend at Home.

This being Easter weekend I have four days off (although I was told it isn't called Easter Weekend officially because the "separation of church and state" means it cannot be referred to that.  Later in the day I saw news footage reporting with horror that President Obama has not been to church since being in office.) and naturally because it's a public holiday the weather is predicted to be awful. 

That's ok though, because none of my intended activities for the weekend require fine weather.  So far I have planned an intensive program of:

• reading,
• crocheting,
• catching up on TV,
• making a fuss of the cats,
• playing video games. 

These tasks will be broken up by some serious napping, and I shall also be requiring Doc C to dig out the recipe for hot cross buns, so that I can snack appropriately.  But in the meantime, I think I need to go to bed and watch "Numb3rs" before having a good night's sleep. 

I've already turned my alarm off.

Was Philadelphia's Gravity Different in the Late 1700's?

I am a big fan of Picnik, today I thought I'd see what treasures the fancy collage package has and I found the perfect backdrop for my photos of The Signer.

This statue commemorates the signing of both the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States, but it is not of one specific person.  Bearing that in mind, and with all due respect to those makers of history, I would love to know how the man depicted here is intending to sign the thing?  For one thing he's going to get ink all over his sleeve if he is not careful.