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Showing posts with label American ex-pats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American ex-pats. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 03, 2012

Fire, Dating and Relaxing.

The picture on the left shows the linings of our solid fuel stove. Those in U.S. this is just a wood stove that  can also be fueled with coal. The one on the extreme left is the rear liner and to the right one of the 2 side liners. In the foreground is the old rear liner that disintegrated on removal.  The lining is made not of brick but Vermiculite fire board that is good to1100C (2010F). The board can be cut with an ordinary wood saw.                                                         The old liners have been in use for 6 winters and during this period have been reversed and the rear one has been repaired(crack) using fire cement.   I called in at Midland Chandlers at  Penkridge and they quoted a price of  £63 ($95) I politely refused relying on some information deep in my head that needed to be brought to the surface. So having remembered the alternative product I found a stove dealer in Nantwich who cut the 3 pieces to size for £24($36). So similar to the filter blog, it does pay to step away and think.

      
This made me smile. In the field were about 20 Swans (around 11 pictured) and they were all still displaying a few dark juvenile feathers. My thoughts as we drifted by slowly were it was perhaps a gathering point for last years cygnets to seek a mate for a lifetime together. A sort of speed dating for Swans. Perhaps the females google find.me.a.cob.com or the males might try pen.for.me.co.uk
I was trying to think of a name for this club,field,meeting place but the only trendy club like name i came up with was `Cygnatures` Any suggestions? Oh by the way do you think the two Geese might be the club bouncers.

Here you are America. This is what  your Jaq gets up to on a sunny day. Book in hand and yes she is wearing her slippers. No you can`t have her back even though you all miss her. We hope to be back for a short break in November.

Well not much of a cruising day today. We set off but after stopping for lunch the rains came down so we ended up watching a film on TV and called the cruising off after 2hours.

Tuesday, March 06, 2012

What I love About English Men

He is half of a blessed man. Left to be finished by such as she; and she a fair divided excellence, whose fullness of perfection lies in him." ~ William Shakespeare

   They call you love. They call everyone love. And they say it in a fabulous English accent seasoned with one of the many dialects inherent upon what part of the Island a man was raised. You American women know what I'm talking 'bout ??!!
  In America the only men who might address women by the pet name of "love" are those who have had recent carnal knowledge of said female. And it will probably only slip from his lips once.
   The first time Les addressed me as love, was in a voice message on the phone. We had yet to meet in person and it left me puzzled and puzzling; whatever does Dir Sir mean by that? Was he taking my offer to stay for a week as a guest in my home as something more? Or is this a "British" thing?
   After a day or two I soon forgot about it....now I am married to a Brit and living in England, and MY English man calls me darlin' most of the time (sappy sod comes into play occasionally as well).
   To be sure, English women call me love too, but we are both quite clear it is a general term of endearment, said while offering me assistance. I much prefer it to the American term "Hon." I am no ones' honey--not even Les'.
   Ques in this country make me uncomfortable. Everyone jams themselves in nut to butt. We Americans are used to our own personal space--LOTS of it; typically in the U.S. we stake out a three foot circumference and only those who are invited intrude upon it. When standing in line--as we refer to queuing--we might withdraw our personal space to 18 inches.
   Back in September we were queud up nose to neck at a store in Hinckley, Les in front and me behind. All of a sudden a voice laden with rich, husky, dulcet tones not unlike that of Tom Jones whispered warmly right into my ear, "Excuse me love." I almost wet myself.
   My first shocked thought was "MY GOD!!! That is NOT my husband's voice," followed a nanosecond later by "HOLY MARY MOTHER OF PEARL!! A-strange-man-just-whispered-in-my-ear-and-called-me-love!
   About this time the unassuming fellow behind me pushed gently by and went on out the door with no clue he had just left an American woman in a total state of confused emotional distress.
   As an American ex-pat I will never get used to English men addressing me thus. And I hope I never do!

NB Valerie & Steam Train by Les Biggs

NB Valerie & Steam Train by Les Biggs