Christmas for Erika in Germany...

I could write pages and pages about our trip over Christmas to Germany, but no one wants to read all that, just like no one wants to watch a slideshow of someone's trip to Florida. So I'll try and keep this short and sweet and just hit the highlights of each day.

Day 1 - Friday, 19 Dec.

DH and I set off for Munich, Germany, on Dec 19th out of Manchester Airport. Our flight was late and it was rainy when we landed. We got sort of lost in the Hauptbahnhof (main train station) looking for the exit that would lead to our hotel (which was quite literally right next door) but nonetheless, had a great first night!

Highlights:
- DH eating his first Bratwurst!
- First visit of the Munich Christmas Market

Day 2 - Saturday, 20 Dec.

It was drizzling outside, and since we had booked the "I Love Chocolate" package through Sofitel, we enjoyed a really big, delicious breakfast before setting off for the Neue Pinakothek for our cultural immersion of the day. That night we had reservations at the hotel restaurant for our three-course chocolate dinner.

Highlights:
- Canova's Paris
- DH's first trip on a Strassenbahn (German street trolley)
- Chocolate dinner at the hotel
- Discovering super-yummy Nuernberger Brats at our new favorite Christmas Market (by the Sendlinger Gate)

Day 3 - Sunday, 21 Dec

We again slept in and enjoyed our huge yummy breakfast. Then we set off for the Deutsches Museum (German Museum) which is Germany's version of all the US Smithsonians combined into one single museum. Oy! We spent no less than 4 hours there! Afterwards we hit our favorite Christmas Market again for more Nuernbergers (although DH ate a normal Bratwurst) and some French Fries, and both our first Feuerzangebowle (traditional German hot drink at Christmas)

Highlights:
- Marine Navigation hall at the Deutsches Museum
- Watching a blind brass band perform Christmas songs at our favorite Christmas Market
- DH's first U-bahn (Germany subway) ride!

Day 4 - Monday, 22 Dec

Today we got ourselves out of bed a littler earlier than we had been, again enjoyed a nice breakfast, and then checked out of our Munich hotel and picked up our rental car. After a brief delay caused by a wicked accident on the Autobahn, we made our way to Noerdlingen, Germany. This is the town featured in the older version of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate factory - at the end when they are flying around in the glass elevator. We also learned that the town was located in the crater of a giant meteor that hit over 15 million years ago, and that NASA astronauts had visited before their trips to the moon for quarrying experience. Pretty cool! They had a sweet little Christmas Market that we visited, eating a pretzel and - what else - another Bratwurst!

We left Noerdlingen to make our way to Rothenburg o.d. Tauber, where we were staying for the night. After some very tense moments getting lost and being unable to find our hotel, we finally checked in, parked the car, walked around the town a little bit, and then did the Nightwatchman Tour! We had a really lovely traditional German dinner at one of the town's hotel restaurants before turning in for the night.

Highlights:
- DH's first drive on the German Autobahn (his max speed - 150-155 km/h)
- Noerdlingen - I loved it!!!
- Nightwatchman's Tour of Rothenburg o.d. Tauber
- Yummy Schweinbraten mit Knoedel at Restaurant Roter Hahn

Day 5 - Tuesday, 23 Dec.

Since we had arrived so late in Rothenburg, we spent most of the day walking the town, visiting the Kriminalmuseum (full of old torture instruments!), and walking along the wall, gardens, and towers of Rothenburg. We left in the late afternoon, just making it to Wuerzburg where we dropped off the car and traveled by train to my friend Andrea's, with whose family we were spending the holidays.

Highlights:
- Seeing Andrea and meeting her loverly family!
- DH's first German train trip!
- DH's and my first Weisswurst (traditional Bavarian/Franconian wurst - not to everyone's taste, but definitely to ours! YUMMY!)

Day 6 - Wednesday, 24 Dec. *Christmas Eve*

What a lovely day. We didn't really do much. Slept late, ate breakfast, walked around Ebelsbach and saw two castles in 10 minutes, relaxed, ate "lunch" (baked chicken breasts wrapped in prosciutto and sage, potato cheese casserole (like an au gratin), and ratatouille), went to Koenigsberg i. B. to see another castle and a quaint little town, then returned to Ebelsbach, went to church for the childrens Mass and Nativity Play, ate yummy individual pizzas, and celebrated a traditional German Christmas.

Highlights
- The little kid playing the main shepherd looking for his little, white lamb at the Christmas children's Mass
- Home-cooked German food! Oh my!
- Walking around Ebelsbach
- Traditional German Christmas tree with real candles!

Day 7 - Thursday, 25 Dec. *Christmas*

Another completely lovely day. After having Christmas dinner (which in Germany is at lunchtime, since the main meal of the day for many Europeans is at lunchtime) which was out of this world (Roulade, Knoedel (large potato dumpling ball), and Rotkohl/Blaukraut (red cabbage)) we went to Bamberg to walk the town's streets. We visited the cathedral, popped into a little restaurant to try a Bamberger Rauchbier (a smoky beer that smelled like smoked ham, and kind of tasted like it too), and generally wiled the day away. Dinner was a meat and cheese platter - where I discovered a new favorite cheese!

Highlights
- Bamberg Cathedral - so gorgeous!
- More German homecooking. Mmmmmmm!

Day 8 - Friday, 26 Dec. *Boxing Day*

Sadly, our last day in Germany. After a quick breakfast, it was off to the train station to catch a train to Frankfurt airport. We said goodbye to our lovely hosts, who are unparalleled in their hospitality, friendliness, and openness, and set off for Harrogate!

Highlights
- DH's first ride on the ICE - Germany's super-fast train (even though we didn't get to go super fast)
- Seeing the kitties again, who were clearly fat and happy and barely noticed our absence (thanks to the excellent care provided by our young hired help).

Pics of our trip can be seen here.

Finally... news...

Well, thanks to all of you who have offered tons of support, but I've just gotten word that I was not selected to interview for the Bosch Fellowship. At least I now know, and can refocus on getting a job here in the UK! No worries - I totally believe that when God closes a door, he opens a window. I'll think about reapplying again next year in any case.

Thanks again for all the well wishes!

Quick update - or rather non-update

For the one or two of you who might be watching for news about my fellowship application, I'm posting to let you know that I still have no update. I emailed the woman yesterday morning (8am England time, so 3am US EST time) and heard nothing all day. Everytime a message appeared in my inbox my heart would jump into my throat, only to be disappointed by the sender being "American Airlines" or "Whole Latte Love" or somesuch other junk mail.

With my friggin' luck, the woman is either a) out sick or b) out for holiday vacation and I still won't know for weeks on end. The mail situation for our APO box is total crap too, so I don't know when/how I'm going to hear.

Frankly, I don't have the best psychic vibe about it anymore. I mean, if I had been selected for interviews, which are being held Jan 13-15th in NYC, I imagine someone would have contacted me by now for travel arrangements, right? Argh, this is so frustrating. I just want to know definitively one way or the other. I feel paralyzed not knowing. It's brutal.

"Tell me honey, how come you're so cute?"

One of the leading actors from one of my all-time favorite movies died yesterday. Van Johnson, who was 92, starred in "Thirty Seconds over Tokyo," the Hollywood version of the true-life bombing of Tokyo during WWII.

The movie makes me laugh, makes me cry (of course), stars another one of my absolute favorites, Spencer Tracy, and has one of my all-time favorite pieces of dialogue that I use on DH all the time. If you're up one day and see it coming on TCM or something, sit down and watch it. What those boys (yes, they were just boys) did was nothing short of astonishing.

Here's the YouTube link for the trailer to "Thirty Seconds over Tokyo." My favorite piece of dialogue begins about 2:37.

">

Kinda just started to freak out...

Since arriving in England, I've put off a job search or anything resembling it because I've applied for a Bosch Fellowship. If I was awarded a spot, I would be spending Sept 2009 - June 2010 in Germany, working for a German government agency and a German non-profit/private sector firm for about 4 months each.

My application was submitted in October, with what I thought was a strong essay and what I knew were two very strong personal recommendations. I thought that I was supposed to hear via email by December 15th whether I was going to be invited just to interview for a spot. Re-reading the application acknowledgment email today, I realized that they are in fact mailing (by regular US mail) those results out, which I should receive by Dec 15th. I did give our APO address on my application, but we've been having tons of issues getting mail from the States at that address. So now I'm kinda freaking out, since they've requested that we not email them about the status of our application until after December 15th. Seriously, at this point I just want to know one way or the other, and not have this hanging over my head. I guess I'm just getting nervous now that it's nearly time to find out, since I haven't really been thinking of it until now.

Of course, with my luck, DH will pick up the letter today when he check our mail on base. It's like some kind of psychic link or something.

Weird, wild, wacky Christmas party (UK edition) - UPDATE

I have learned since attending the surreal Christmas party last night that many of the things I thought were peculiar were indeed British Christmas traditions. To wit:



These are the cylindrical "bang" packages which contained the tissue paper hats and little plastic toys that I was confused by. I learned tonight that they are known as "Christmas Crackers." From Wikipedia:

"Christmas crackers are an integral part of Christmas celebrations in the United Kingdom, Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Republic of Ireland and in other Commonwealth countries. A cracker consists of a cardboard tube wrapped in a brightly decorated twist of paper, making it resemble an oversized sweet-wrapper. The cracker is pulled by two people, and, much in the manner of a wishbone, the cracker splits unevenly. The split is accompanied by a small bang produced by the effect of friction on a chemically impregnated card strip (similar to that used in a cap gun).

In one version of the tradition the person with the larger portion of cracker empties the contents from the tube and keeps them. In another each person will have their own cracker and will keep its contents regardless of whose end they were in. Typically these contents are a coloured paper hat or crown; a small toy or other trinket and a motto, a joke or piece of trivia on a small strip of paper. Crackers are often pulled after Christmas dinner or at parties."

I don't yet understand the tissue paper crowns (which come in the crackers) or the ABBA connection, but I will solve these mysteries and report back to my faithful readers!

Weird, wild, wacky Christmas party (UK edition)

Wow. I don't even know where to start this post.

Last night was DH's team's Christmas Party. It all sounded normal enough (normal to my American sensibilities, anyway). We were going to a local hotel for a meal, and meeting up for a little pre-party at a nearby couple's house for a little wine and cheese.

Indeed it started pretty much how these things go... we went to the couple's house, which was very nice, and enjoyed some pre-party drinks, were introduced to spouses and made some small talk, and it was all very expected.

I guess the first sign that things were going to be a little different should have been DH telling me that the dress code was either "smart casual" or "70s disco" style. These two things don't make much sense, but I just kind of let it go. When we arrived at the hotel for our pre-dinner drinks at the hotel bar, I looked around at the assembled crowd. Our group was only about 20 people; there were perhaps a hundred or so in the lobby area. People were wearing the widest variety of clothes I had ever seen assembled in one place in my life. There was a very large group of people dressed in black tie formal attire (with more women than I have ever seen in my life squeezing into dresses that had they bothered to check a mirror, they would have known their dress was four sizes too small) Oh - there was a complete lack of appropriate foundation garments as well - there were flat droopy boobs, poochy tummys, and spare tires in abundance. There were the "smart casual" folks, with the boys in nice pants and nice shirts and the occasional tie and blazer and women in nice sweaters or shirts and skirts or casual dresses..

And then there were the folks in the 70s garb. Just. wow. Bell bottoms and paisley galore (including some sequined bell bottom paisley, which was nothing short of insane). These people were dead serious about their 70s style costumes. Standing there in the lobby I bitterly cursed DH for not having a) told me to bring our camera and b) forgetting his iPhone in the car, which takes much better pictures than my crappy cell phone camera.

After a short while in the bar we were led by someone from the hotel staff up to the restaurant and to our reserved tables. The tables were decorated in a way I expected much more for a New Year's Celebration than a Christmas party - with little champagne poppers, noisemakers, strange popping package-type things that went "bang" when you pulled them apart, and really annoying balloon-type things that you blew up and let go, at which point they sailed around the room making that horrible deflating balloon squeal. They looked like giant flying penises and there were dozens of them flying around the room. Inside the little "bang" packages there were tissue paper crowns, which people all around the room were wearing on their heads.

I kind of stood there in shock for a few minutes, trying to understand exactly what this scene in front of me was. Eventually we settled down, had a fairly standard quality hotel-catered meal, and I just kind of was looking around at this surreal scene of grown adults at their companies' Christmas parties, wearing tissue paper hats and shooting champagne poppers at one another and setting off balloons around the room. It was like a strange LSD trip.

And it was only the beginning of the strangeness.

After dinner, once everyone had had their cake and coffee, the entertainment for the evening started. Now DH had told me that the hotel had a 70s theme club or something, he wasn't quite sure what. We joked that it would be something like an ABBA-fest (me) or a BeeGees-fest (him). This of course explained why some of the people in attendance were dressed in 70s garb.

At the front of the room there was a small dance floor with some lights and whatnot set up. The room's lights were dimmed quite low and some peppy instrumental music I didn't recognize at first started playing. I was in no way prepared for what appeared next. Indeed, I'm not quite sure I believe it actually happened yet.

At one point I recognized the musical refrain, at about the same time as DH did. I turned to him and said "Is that... Waterloo?" At that exact moment, the dance floor's lights came on, and there was a group of four - two men and two women - that were clearly an ABBA tribute band. And they started singing "Waterloo."

The room went crazy, "Woo-Hoo"ing and screaming, as if it was a room full of teenage girls and the latest boy band had just taken the stage. A woman, dressed in a 1920's style flapper dress (she was with one of the black-tie groups, I think), almost immediately jumped up on the buffet and started dancing (it was the first song! how much had she had to drink already that she was ready to dance on tables?). The ABBA tribute band was singing its heart out, and I was simply looking at my DH in utter and complete shock.

I kind of figured that they would play one or two songs and then a normal dance floor would follow. How wrong I was. I didn't even think ABBA had that many songs, but they played for a solid hour, with their "encore" number being, of course, "Dancing Queen." It was absolutely surreal. There is simply no other word for it.

Once the band finished playing, our group started to disperse - it was 1100pm on a Friday night, after all. I'm still not sure that I've processed everything that happened last night. After all, my Christmas party experience has mostly been a subdued meal with some folks you work with, perhaps a little bit of Christmas music on to get you in the mood, maybe a Secret Santa or White Elephant/Yankee Swap-type game for some wholesome laughs, and then everyone goes on their merry way.

I was not prepared for an New Year's Eve party-type craziness with an ABBA soundtrack. It was, to say the least, bizarre.

And here are just a couple of crappy cell-phone pics:



Hard to see... but up there are the blond and brunette "ABBA"-like chicks singing


Flapper-like chick dancing on the buffet - TO THE FIRST SONG!

I have a pic of DH wearing his paper crown, but to my chagrin he won't let me make it public.

Weird, wild, wacky weather (UK edition) - Part Deux!

Well, something in the air made it snow yesterday - and the whole town fell apart. It was a whopping 2 inches! You'd have thought that we lived in Alanta, GA, or something, the way that they handled things. Traffic was snarled, streets were impassable. No one shovels their walks around here (of course, we don't even have our snow shovels - I guess that's one purchase we should make this weekend, that and some rock salt). DH drove my beloved Bug to work today and I am just praying he makes it okay.

Here are a couple of pics I took of the snow:









Yes... that is a car with a snowman on its roof. You can see more pics I took around town here.

In more gastronomic news, I got my second veg box delivery this morning (good job River Swale!) Take a look at these yummies! Carrots, onions, potatoes, red cabbage, fennel, leeks, and eggplants!

Weird, wild, wacky weather (UK edition)

View from our bedroom window one morning

So over the past 7-10 days we've woken up several times to see a dusting or a coating of snow outside our north-facing windows. On many of those same mornings, DH has driven to work only to discover an inch or more of snow has fallen just 5 miles outside of town.

It seems that more than anything that altitude is playing a role in these differing experiences. From tonight's bulletin from the UK Met Office (their National Weather Service equivalent) applicable to our region (North Yorkshire):

There is a high risk of a severe weather event affecting parts of Scotland and the northern half of England. Snow spreading from the west on Wednesday evening will become persistent and heavy at times by the early hours of Thursday morning, eventually clearing away eastwards from England by Thursday afternoon and from most of Scotland by the evening. On low lying ground there is the potential for 2 to 5 cm of snow to accumulate, while on ground above about 150 metres accumulations of 10 to 20 cm are expected, with blizzard conditions and considerable drifting in strong winds. This is likely to cause disruption to travel networks, particularly across higher level routes.

According to Google Earth, the location where we live is about 470-490 feet above sea level - just at or under the 150 meter mark. Where DH works, however, he is at 750-770 feet above sea level.

Luckily, DH just got the snow emergency number to call to know whether to report on time or at all for work in the event of a major snow. I don't think that they get major snows (like 8+ inches) very often though.

D'oh

I'm not having a lot of clothes-related luck.

Point #1 - DH and I went shopping for a nice new winter coat for him. We went all over Harrogate to the major stores hoping to find a nice wool coat. Our first stop was the Gap, where we had bought his current coat several years ago. They had one possible option, and it wasn't bad. 3/4 length and 70% wool 30% manmade. The problem was it was a quite a bit thinner/lighterweight than his current coat, quite a bit more expensive, and it just might not have been warm enough. We went to some other "English" shops, figuring that there are so damn many sheep around, there must be plenty of wool coats. Boy, were we wrong. At one of the more recognizable Brit stores - Marks & Spencer - we looked at coats labeled "Wool Rich Blend". What a total joke - "wool rich" meant only 5% wool! Total and utter crap.

Point #2 - Continuing with the whole "wool" theme, I bought a nice lambswool cream-colored hoodie from LLBean before leaving for the UK. Today, I thoughtlessly threw it in the wash, and lo and behold, shrank it such that it would only fit a barbie. Dammit. My own fault for not paying attention.

Point #3 - Continuing with the whole "wash" theme, I went ahead and washed all my bras today. Hanging them up to dry, I realized that I had washed ALL my bras, and there was no way one would be dry to wear to Quiz Night at our local pub tonight. Just great!

At least that's three things... so now I should be safe.

First Veg Box is Here!

Exciting happenings today! My first veg box was delivered early this morning from River Swale farms. It was a mini-veg box and contained parsnips (3), mushrooms (gorgeous!!! about 6), potatoes (5), onions (4), carrots (4), and a stalk of Brussels Sprouts, which I love! I also ordered a block of parmigiano reggiano, which they get from a sister farm in Parma, Italy; a 2L thing of milk, which they get from a dairy that treats their cows right; and some salad greens that are grown on the farm, only under poly-tunnels.

I feel pretty good about it, since there is no spot for me to grow anything but some herbs on the windowsill here at the house (I do have Basil and Parsley flourishing). Everything looks really nice, and I'm excited to get cooking!

Long time no post...

So my goal of posting every few days has fallen tragically short of expectations. Really, though, there isn't that much interesting to report.

In the past two weeks, I've met some folks for coffee that I met through the book club, I've gone to a couple of girls' nights out with some girls that DH works with, and I've finally visited the famous Betty's Tea Room in Harrogate, just yesterday with the girl I worked with at NOAA. Throw in the couple Monday night Quiz nights at The New Inn, and I've been at least as social as I was in DC.

The main challenges in the past couple weeks have been establishing routines and getting stuff set up to support daily life. At home, DH and I had joint and separate bank accounts to support house and individual purchases respectively. Moreover, since we were paid in dollars, and stuff was priced in dollars, and we'd had our accounts established for a significant period of time, and we knew about how much our monthly "must pays", groceries, and miscellaneous averaged out to be. Here, we've not yet had enough experience with all of us living here together to know how much the "must pays" are going to end up being, the fact that we have to pay our expenses in pounds sterling rather than dollars means that we have to allow at least a week or so for transfers from dollar accounts into our pounds account, which pretty much eliminates any casual or unplanned spending until we've got a solid handle on our "must pays" and have established a regular dollars-pounds transfer with reliable exchange results. Not that I'm a total shopaholic, but there are lots of little things that I'd like to get for the house (crock-pot, hand blender, etc) that I'm planning on putting off until things are more stable.

Another routine we've not really established well is our grocery routine. We've got several possible shopping places, and I like them all for different reasons. Shopping on base is good for staples, but not - in my humble opinion - the best option for fresh foods. We like our local Waitrose for meats and some veggies, and some local staples, but I like our local Morrisons for their wine, cheese, some veggies, and seafood. We went to our local Sainsburys this weekend, and it was okay, but nothing different from the other two, and two friends I've made here have recommended local farm delivery services that will bring local seasonal produce and dairy items right to the house. Since we have all these shopping places that we like for different reasons, it has been impossible to just say "we'll do all our shopping on Saturday morning", which leads to us running out of stuff midweek, forgetting critical items, or just feeling disorganized. In addition, I don't think that the fridge that we have here is very reliably cold, so I'm nervous about keeping things like meat and cheese in the fridge for more than 3-4 days. So that all it is frustrating.

Thankfully, the cats still seem to be adjusting well. And since this Thursday is Thanksgiving, I guess it's appropriate that I be thankful for something.

Oh happy day!

I still haven't been able to shake this darn cold, and have a hacking cough that DH has described as "piercing." But today was a good day.

DH and I left for Liverpool out of Harrogate at about 11:15 this morning on the train. I was pretty tired this morning, the weather was really blustery with a sharp chill, and I was just not in my right mood. We spent the better part of the 3 hour trip staring out the train window, listening to the cacophony of conversations around us.

Once we got to Liverpool Lime St Station, we grabbed a taxi and asked him to take us to Seaforth Container Terminal. It was about a 10-15 minute ride, and at one point DH said "Look - there it is!!!"

I quickly whipped my head around and saw a little Salsa Red VW Beetle Convertible sitting up against a wire fence. Was that really my Bug? A quick look at the license plate area confirmed that at the very least, it was an American car (since we have the little plates). It was my first glimpse of my beloved car since it was taken away from me several weeks ago.

To be honest, I was worried the entire trip from Harrogate to Liverpool. I had heard lots of horror stories about cars being shipped overseas RO/RO - scratches, damage, thefts, etc. I just didn't have the strength to see dents or big scratches on my car. But sitting there up against the fence, it looked just fine.

I started to get excited, bouncing a little bit on my seat (it was one of the traditional English taxis - with the big back seat) and clapping my hands. The taxi driver started laughing, even though he didn't really have a clue where exactly we needed to go. We made our way into the dockyards (which was pretty cool), to the handling agent, and there it was. My Bug. Up against the fence. I literally ran over to have a look, carefully checking it over. No damage, no scratches, no dents, and the interior was just as clean as it had been when I handed it over. I was ecstatic!

We finished the paperwork, handed over our port charges, and took a few pictures before hopping and and driving back to Harrogate. DH drove - I'm not quite ready to take to the left side of the road yet. But that's okay. My Bug and I - we're back together again.

On being sick in the UK

As a reward for staying up until nearly 6am and getting only 4 hours of sleep election night, I was given a horrifyingly awful head cold, which fully materialized - thankfully - after I had enjoyed a nice cappuccino and slice of chocolate mousse cake with a girl I had met through the book club I joined.

I am a terrible sick person - completely unbearable. This version of the common cold, though, totally beat me down. Endless gunk dripping into my throat, making it seriously raw and painful, which then made its way down to my stomach... and the next morning right up my throat again. What followed was two seriously awful days spent on the couch. One night DH forced me to drink a capful of the most awful Nyquil ever, and it did knock me out for a decent night's sleep - on the couch.

I've discovered that the new mattress DH and I bought before shipping our goods to England is a little to firm, which is leading to fun lower back, neck, and shoulder blade pain. We're now in the market for a foam mattress topper to make it a little more comfortable. There's my warning about rushing into a mattress purchase!

Anyway, depending on the time of day, I'm either on my way to recovering or suffering from a relapse. The one very huge, major, perhaps pivotal moment that came out of all of this was a singular discovery which may get me through many, many dark, cold nights here.

The Rice Bowl, a Chinese restaurant here in Harrogate, has Hot and Sour soup that is both hot and sour! It has spice! It has flavor! It was a little thicker than most H&S soups I've enjoyed (easily remedied with some hot water) but it had FLAVOR! It is a first for me here - food with heat (spice-heat in this context). I was so desperate, and this soup made me so happy!

Every cloud has a silver lining, right?

Election night - perspective from an American in the UK the morning after

I stayed on the couch watching returns, waiting for the clincher (which proved to be Ohio, again) until about 330am GMT, at which point I dozed off and on until I finally made my way up to bed at 6am (that's 930pm and 1am EST respectively).

The BBC, ITV, and Sky News coverage was abysmal - SkyNews especially, but I was really surprised how bad the BBC was. They had a little panel of commentators, the first of which included the abrasive Christopher Hitchens. The 'moderator' clearly was disgusted by Hitchens' erudite but blunt assessments of the failures of the Administration and its impact on the campaign, and barely allowed Hitchens the opportunity to speak. They switched out the commentators around the table a couple of times, at one point giving John Bolton a seat at the table. Talk about repugnant - I have never seen someone so entitled and defensive - it gave those segments of coverage a very bad vibe. Poor job on choosing those commentators, BBC.

ITV wasn't horrifyingly bad, but it was rather boring. The couple of dudes they had in the main studio doing analysis were deadly dull. At one point they had completely messed up the electoral vote count, giving 103 to McCain and 34 to Obama, and they tried to defend their mistake with somesuch nonsense that it was based on calls rather than votes counted or somethings. Not very reassuring.

SkyNews was just weird. Their affiliate in the US - from whom they were getting the state result calls - appeared to be FoxNews, who was so different from the other two channels that it called their coverage into question.

One thing I noticed about all three was that their on-the-ground reporters were kinda dicks. I mean, I know that the UK has the reputation for direct questions in their news reporting, but their clear bias in favor of Obama even tasted bad to my mouth. At one point there was a BBC reporter in Virginia questioning a farmer why he had voted for McCain / the republicans when the Bush Administration had let so much go awry. The poor farmer didn't have much defense for his vote, other than the fact he had consistently voted the GOP party his whole life, but the BBC reporter basically niggled and poked this poor guy about his vote so much that it made them look like they were trying to make this guy out to be stupid. It was not a flattering moment for the BBC.

Another thing that annoyed me as an American accustomed to US reporting was the lack of depth of analysis into voting patterns, precincts reporting, etc. When a state was called by an affiliate network, they just kind of reported it, rather than putting the call in its proper contexts (how many votes, how many precincts reporting, where there were votes yet to be counted, etc). When they called Pennsylvania for Obama, I instinctively had a 2000 Florida moment - PA was supposed to be a pretty intense battleground state, and I had no idea what data the networks were using to make that bold prediction. Also, there was very little discussion of the almost equally important Senate races that were being fought. In the checks and balances system the US has, it's just as important to know how much power the party of the executive is going to have in the legislature. I was pretty disappointed by this - although they did cover the Dole-Hagen Senate fight in North Carolina, mostly because of its trainwreck value.

Finally, the production values and technology challenges that all three stations suffered from were positively amateur looking in comparison. There were lots of lost audio communications, miscues as to where they were going next, lame A/V aids trying to illustrate what was going on.

I can't believe I am going to say it, but I missed the US cable news networks - yes even CNN - in this election coverage.

In any case, the UK stations could not conceal their glee and elation about the Obama victory. Maybe that's why John Bolton was such a crab.

Election night - perspective from an American in the UK

So it's election night in the US. It's 10:30pm, the polls are still open and will be for hours, and I've been watching the BBC on and off for most of the day. Any UK news has been relegated to secondary status in favor of reporting on the long lines (queues) and last-minute campaigning (unusual b/c of UK election rules).

Basically, there seems to be a sense of cautious optimism. The folks here have been "fooled" before (see: 2004 election, 2000 election), but with the polling being fairly strong in Obama's favor, they are pretty encouraged. There's no doubt who the BBC and general UK public wants to see in the White House, at all.

It's rather fun, and I wish that there was a pub showing the results as I would love to be with a crowd when it all rolls in. For what it's worth, I'm drinking some coffee just to stay up late enough to see the East Coast results come in.

I'll write again tomorrow, when the results start to reverberate through the public here. I'm planning on meeting another American for coffee tomorrow afternoon, so that's going to be lots of fun!

P.S. This is how silly reporting has gotten on the BBC's coverage of the US election. In their "Sports" segment, they've just reported on the Redskins' loss to Pittsburgh this weekend because there's been only one time since 193-something where the 'skins' have won/lost and the ruling party has remained in power/lost power respectively.

End of week 1 - thoughts....

So, I've now been in the UK for a whopping week. When I visited in July, I was here for about 9 days I think, so it's not the longest stretch I've gone here yet. Still, my mindset is a little different; I'm still in vacation mode, but there's so much "real life" in front of me that it's certainly not going to last much longer.

DH and I are still getting along - somewhat and sometimes. It's been tough for both of us, going from having completely independent lives for the last 4-5 months to living together again. There are certain elements of the house that make this a little tougher. The kitchen is tiny and there is a severe lack of storage, so our previous habit of both being in the kitchen, he cleaning dishes and I making dinner, is just right out. No storage or counterspace means that everything is always everywhere, and that's pretty annoying. The house also squeaks like an old door, so if he wants to be watching TV on the second level, and I want to be doing something else on the third, well the constant squeaks and groans of the floor make TV watching less than pleasant.

The cats seem to be adjusting just fine, as cats would. We've started them on two high-quality UK cat foods. Eliza won't eat it but Henry eats one of them. I'm really happy Henry likes the one, it should be really good for him. I don't know what we're going to do with Eliza. She seems to be okay with Fancy Feast, so I'll try and see what the best flavors of that are (fewest corn and other fillers) and keep her on those. She was 13.5 pounds at her last weigh in, and she's supposed to be closer to 10 or 11. Fatty.

Perhaps the highlight of my entire first week here was a little book club that I've joined. There's an online forum for Americans in the UK, and one of the girls organized a book club which met for the first time Saturday. We read "Petite Anglaise," a book written from the blog kept by an English woman living in France. Recommended only if you like to see how a narcissistic fantasy-world dependent person can construct a life for herself (in her mind) only to destroy her family when reality doesn't quite match fantasy, and sets out to create other fantasy lives for herself, which again never match reality. Anyway, the meeting was about 80% social chat and 20% book chat, which I found to be an excellent mix! It was nice to start building a social circle that didn't rely on folks knowing DH.

On the agenda for this week: getting the kitchen storage situation under control, getting the living room arranged the way I want it, hopefully getting a cell phone number and bank account, getting my summer clothes and linens organized somehow. And I think that's just for the first part of the week. I also want to try and get to a proper grocery store for actual shopping. The commissary on base is good for some stuff, but meats are not a strong suit for them. There's a butcher at the end of the block, across from the pet store. Maybe I'll trek out when the fog burns off and buy a little food for us and a little food for the cats. Just have to be sure not to mix it up!

Life in the UK...

It wouldn't be really fair to say that I am "adjusting" to life in the UK right now, as really, I feel like I'm on vacation right now. Since I gave a rundown of my last 24 hours in the US, I feel like I should mirror that with a rundown of my first 24 hours in the UK. Only, it would be a really boring, short post consisting of:

- Landing at Manchester Airport
- Collecting my baggage and going through immigration and customs
- Getting the kitties and driving home
- Eating something I can't remember for lunch and then falling asleep on the couch for two hours
- Eating something I can't remember for dinner and then falling asleep on the couch for two hours
- Watching something on TV I can't remember and then going to bed and sleeping for 14 hours.

That was my Sunday - 11am Monday morning. Not very exciting. Monday was kind of an easy day. We drove up to the base, got me a badge/id to get one base (my pic was awesome... I was totally prepared for it), bought some sundries like hangers, cat beds, and whatnot, and then went out to dinner at a Spanish tapas restaurant with friends.

Tuesday we went to Ikea - which was a HUGE mistake because apparently the kids all have off school this week, and there is no real downturn in the Brit economy contrary to what they are reporting because the whole of Northern England was at the Ikea, kids in tow. Anyway, we survived the madness, escaping only with a wardrobe and some lamps and chairs and a couple of little things. Then we had dinner, watched some TV, and went to bed.

Wednesday DH went back to work, I slept until 11am (my Circadians haven't adjusted yet - I'm not falling asleep until 1am-ish), built my wardrobe and two chairs, did some dishes and housework, then DH and I had tacos for dinner, watched some TV, and went to bed.

Wow. Life here is really not too different from being in DC thus far. I am sure that as the weeks go on, and I finish all the housework here and start striking out into town my posts will get more interesting. There's enough to be done here at the house to keep me busy for a couple of weeks, I think, though. Just what I wanted to do - more housework!

The last 24 hours in the US, for a while anyway - Part 4

DH and I drove off to the freight facility, luckily finding where we were supposed to go only getting lost once. DH practically sprinted inside while I searched for the paperwork and my passport for id. I met him inside the "Pets on Jets" office, and we were told that both kitties were there doing well, and we had to go to some other office first to collect the release form from British customs before we could take the kitties with us. We waited about 15 more minutes for our customs release, and then it was the moment we had been waiting for. The dude at Pets on Jets lifted Henry first onto the desk, handing him over to us. He was nervous looking, but fine, and DH grabbed him. Then came Eliza, smelling like cat pee (she had gone in her little cage, Henry had done better to hold it) and crying her fool head off again, but nonetheless fine. The dude handed me the form showing that they had successfully been cleared out of quarantine and customs and we were free to take them home, at which point I cried while shaking his hand thanking him. We loaded the kitties into the car, turned on the fan to blow Eliza's stinkiness away from us, and made the 1.5 hour trip back to Harrogate, family intact.

This picture is what made all the drama and stress worthwhile:


Henry and Eliza in the top floor window in our house in Harrogate.

P.S. Yes, despite the obvious sunshine, it is indeed Harrogate, England. We just happen to be having a rare, sunny morning. I am sure it will be raining before evening.

The last 24 hours in the US, for a while anyway - Part 3

As soon as I stepped onto the plane, I asked the flight attendant "can you please confirm for me when my two cats are onboard?" He looked at me a little strange - it might have been the fact that there were tears rolling down my cheeks as I asked - and said he would check on it. I got into my seat (actually, the seat in front of my seat - I didn't pay enough attention to where I was sitting when I sat down in 23F instead of 24F) and watched as the cargo dudes loaded the bags into the belly of the plane. I was trying to see whether they also loaded the cats, but I had been told that the cats and mail go in last at the very rear of the plane, so it was unlikely I would see them.

Doors started shutting, both at the front and under the plane, and the little dude hadn't come back to tell me that my cats were on. Nevermind the fact that I have been more or less constantly crying throughout the whole boarding and loading process. I rang the little call button above my head and another flight attendant was immediately there. "Can you please let me know if my two cats are on the plane?" I asked again, in tears. He told me he would check on it right away. I texted a message to DH, letting him know I was on the plane and waiting to hear if the kitties were too. I sat there, weeping, until it was clear that the plane was just about to push back from the gate. I panicked a little - no one had confirmed that the kitties were onboard. As soon as I felt us rockback from the gate, the flight attendant (the second one) came by and said not to worry, the two cats had been loaded on. I totally broke down into full blown tears, with a couple of sighs and sobs, and the poor woman sitting next to me took pity on me, trying to reassure me that everything would be okay.

What it really was at that moment was a wave of all the things that had happened in the last six months at that point just cresting and crashing down on me. All that waiting, the separation from DH and going through 90% of the move alone was for that moment... getting our two kitties on the plane on their way to England with me. Lots of people would say that we were nuts allowing two animals to dictate our lives like that, but they are our kids, they are our charges, and we simply aren't a complete family without them.

Anyway, I cried off and on for the next 2.5 hours, I think. We were stuck on the taxiway for 25 minutes or so because of heavy air traffic, and the flight itself was one of the most turbulent I've been on, which had me worrying about the kitties the whole time. I tried to take my mind off of everything going on that I had no control over - watching the atrocious "Baby Mama" and listening to "Sense and Sensibility" via my little personal entertainment center in the back of the chair in front of me. Thankfully it got me through 4 hours of the 5.5 hours flight.

With about 1.5 hours to go, I started the waterworks again. There were times during the flight when I was convinced that I could hear the cats crying in the hold below (probably not) At this point, the final barrier to completing this move was British customs not letting the cats come home with us. Our bumpy flight was rewarded with a smooth landing, and we pulled into the gate in Manchester, and I anxiously watched out my window to see if I could catch them unloading the cats from the plane. No such luck again, and I made my way through the aiport, through immigration and customs (the cats were going through cargo customs away from the airport proper), and into DH's arms. We quickly loaded everything into our estate car (british name for a station wagon, and thank God for it, since we needed almost every inch of space for all the stuff and drove off to the freight facility to collect the kitties.

The last 24 hours in the US, for a while anyway - Part 2

At this point it was pouring rain, and there were two major accidents on the Beltway, that gave us the benefit of heavy traffic. I settled back for the 3 hr trip to Jersey, mentally calculating how much time I might have to stop and have a final visit with DH's grandmother and my best friend Steph and her family. The math was adding up to: not much. Meanwhile, Eliza would not stop crying in the back of the van... driving me absolutely crazy. Except when she stopped, when I panicked that something had happened, like carbon monoxide fumes from the van's exhaust had overwhelmed the kitties, despite the fact we were doing 75 mph on the highway.

We made our first stop at DH's grandmother's house at about 430, staying only a couple of minutes since we still had to unpack the van at Dad's house. We stopped at Dad's house at about 515, when it was raining lightly, and somehow got all the crap out of the van (and me convinced my Dad was going to have a stoke or heart attack any second) in about 45 minutes. I took a shower, he switched the van out with his Cadillac, and we left his place at about 630 to stop at Stephs for just about 5 minutes before we had to leave to get to the airport in Newark.

All I could remember about my instructions were to go to door 3 of terminal C at Newark to drop off the cats. Unfortunately terminal C has an upstairs and a downstairs for international and domestic departures respectively. We drove around the airport twice looking for the Continental Quickpac desk before I spotted it. That's about the same time that the real waterworks began. I took the kitties and my suitcases out of the car, loaded them onto a huge trolley cart, and pushed it over to the Quickpac desk. It was about 745 and it took about 30-40 minutes for them to clear the kitties. I was in full tears-down-my-face mode, worried about them, the paperwork, and that Eliza would never stop crying/meowing/howling until she died from exhaustion. At least the last bit proved to be temporarily untrue, since as soon as she was set on the floor behind the counter she settled into her little bed, just looking around at everything.

It was finally time for me to check myself and my bags in for my flight. It was 830 at this point - my flight was at 1010. There were only two people barely working behind the 20 or so check-in stations. Complete chaos! There were only about 15 people in line ahead of me and I didn't get fully checked in and through security until 915. Boarding for my flight started at 925 according to my pass, I had to find room in the overhead bin for my largish (pushing the limit) carryon suitcase and largish "personal item" (a normal carryon bag - hey, I'm moving!). Not only that, but the whole day I had consumed exactly 1/2 of a 3 day old doughnut and a coffee, so I was in desperate need for food. Thankfully there was a large foodcourt right around the corner from the gate, so I went and bought myself a chicken salad wrap and a bottle of water, ate half the wrap before feeling really ill (nerves... the wrap itself was tasty) and made my way over to the gate, boarding the plane just 5 minutes later.

The last 24 hours in the US, for a while anyway - Part 1

My last 24 hours in the US were more or less mayhem. There's just no other way to describe it.

After the storage movers were at the house from 930 am until 7pm Thursday, I was pretty convinced that there was a lot of stuff still in the house, but it wouldn't take too long to get it all out. Boy, I couldn't have been more wrong.

Friday I spent a half-day at work, getting home around 2pm. This was really the true beginning of the madness. My neighbor came over to take about 80% of what was left - foodwise - in the kitchen, which was a very good thing. Then her husband and son helped me move the previously blogged about 73 pound box into my car. After that, it was off to the vet for the cats' tick and tapeworm treatments and the final completion of the critical paperwork which, if completed correctly, was going to let my cats come home with DH and me - the entire point of my remaining in the US for the last 6 months.

Right after I dropped the cats off at home, I went straight to the post office to mail my three boxes, then back home again to fill up the car with trash for the dump. I was able to fit in one big trash haul before the dump closed at 8. From there, I really began packing in earnest, actually closing suitcases and starting to consolidate all the remaining stuff in the house to smaller and smaller areas. I continued sorting and packing and whatnot until about midnight, when I was simply too tired to stand anymore.

My dad arrived at about 8am the next morning in a big 12 person van with all the seats removed. I had barely woken up when he got there, and I don't think that I fully appreciated the amount of work we had in front of us. We loaded up the van for one big trip to the Salvation Army around the corner. When we got there at 910am, we were shocked to learn that not only did they not open until 10am (ridiculous) they absolutely under no circumstances would accept any donations until then. Our goal had been to get on the road by 10, and with a van full of donations, we couldn't fill it with the few things that I was giving to my dad to take to Jersey (bed, couch, and TV) until it was empty.

We ran back home and filled up my rental with the stuff that I needed to get to the dump (yes, yet another trash haul) and somehow by the time we'd filled my car, it was 10am - so Dad was off to the Salvation Army with the donations and I was off to the dump with a carload of trash. We met back at the house about 30 minutes later to fill up the van with all the stuff I was giving him, plus my 3 suitcases and two cats, which had been locked in the master bedroom closet at this point. This whole process took about an hour, maneuvering and shoving all that crap into the car - not to mention just getting the heavy stuff in there with a morbidly obese 60 year old man and an out of shape 100-something pound girl doing all the heavy lifting. We finally left the house about noon, about an hour later than we had intended, and still had to return the rental car and the stupid Comcast digital cable box. We were on the highway heading to Jersey at about 1230pm - a full 1.5 hrs later than planned.

The floormat weighs three pounds?

Who knew that a single rear floor mat weighs three pounds. Even considering that it's one of those heavy rubber ridged ones, three pounds?

It's been a long, hectic day. I worked until 2pm, saying goodbye to everyone I liked. I got home, had about 15 minutes to settle a bit until my neighbor came by and took almost all the food I had left in the house (this is a very good thing!). They also helped me move three boxes into my rental car to drop off at the post office.

I then took the cats to the vet, where I waited for about 1.5 hours until all the paperwork was completed. I got them home, turned right around and got to the post office, where a very nice man helped me get the boxes out of my car, and told me the weights of all three. The first was 39 pounds... a lightweight. The second was 57 pounds, a little more formidable, but still handleable.

The third was 73 pounds. 3 pounds more than the maximum that can be mailed. I knew that the floormats were in there, and certainly taking a couple of them out might slip me below that 70 pound limit. I had no idea that it would only take a single, rear seat floormat to get me to 69.4 pounds. The nice man retaped the living heck out of the box and took it from me. Total for those three boxes - 88 dollars, including 5 bucks for insurance on the megabig box.

After that I got home, loaded up the car again, and headed off for an evening trip to the dump. Goodbye to almost all of Ray's computers (I didn't get the two monitors there yet). There were also about 7 big bags of clothes and clothes-related items that I tossed. It really made a big difference, getting rid of all that stuff.

With all that done I think that I can actually get through tomorrow morning without heaping amounts of stress. I expect one run to Goodwill, one last run to the dump, and a fill up before I return the rental. I think that once I get rid of this terrible headache I have (must be from not eating all day) I'll be up most of the night just trying to get to a place where I can execute all my plans and just go when I get up tomorrow.

You know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men, though....

It's so hard to say goodbye

Well, I've said goodbye today to two major parts of my life: my blond highlights and hair and my beloved VW Beetle 'vert. Although they told me Tuesday, the trucker dude called me this afternoon asking if he could possibly take it today. It actually made life a little easier, so I told him to come on by, quickly vacuumed the interior and took all the floor mats, CDs, and whatnot out of the car, got the license plates off, and said a teary-eyed goodbye.

Here's a pic of my Bug on the truck behind a new 2009 S-Class Mercedes. At least they can chat in German together.




The other, albeit less major, but still integral part of my life, is my blond highlights. Three years ago I chopped 11 inches off my hair, got a bob and a blond dye-job. I have had some variation of that bob and blond highlights ever since.

Today, I went in the complete opposite direction. Although I still have the bob, the best color to describe my new hair is "chocolate brown with raspberry highlights." It's totally new, and totally rad.

Sorry, no pics of that yet.

Let the real drama begin

8 days. 8 days until I leave.

On the positive side: The house is rented. The tenants have signed a 2-year lease, so basically we don't have to worry about things unless these people can't pay the rent.

Also, the next week I'm going to have 101 lunches and dinners with friends, so that's good. That's less cooking that I'll have to do with my non-existent cookware.

On the "I'm gonna either die or cry from all this stress" side: this is the week I start the cats' formal paperwork clearance process. I had to transport both of them in one of their huge cages to the vet in my Bug, which the cage virtually doesn't fit in. I actually broke down in tears in the lobby of the vet, just trying to get myself together.

My Bug isn't going to be picked up until Tuesday now. On the plus side that is less time that it is sitting in the open at Baltimore's port, but on the minus side I didn't have to rent a large car to transport all my stuff to the dump and Goodwill. I'll manage with the Bug, but I just kind of wanted that done so I didn't have to deal with it.

I still haven't finished the second coat of paint on my fourth bedroom wall, and I'm exhausted just thinking about it. I've got to start emptying my fridge of food; I'm thinking of having an "Trader Erika's" sale where if you take it, it's yours. The canned stuff I'll donate, but there isn't all that much of that. The freezer, though, is a little more full than I would like.

I've got a list of stuff to do, including changing my address and canceling services and whatnot. There are a few blacklines on it, happily, but there are fewer than I would like to see.

I think that I am going to go on another little shopping spree, and stick Ray with the bill. It's the least I deserve for going through all this.

Shopping, painting, driving, donating, packing...

Fraking busy weekend!

Saturday I cleaned the house again; the two applications we've gotten for the house are from less-then-financially stable people, so I left the house up over the weekend to see if we could snag someone a little better.

I spent most of the weekend at my grandmother's in Delaware. Sunday we went shopping at the outlets in Rehoboth, and I made out like a bandit. I had a good time, bought two suits I wasn't planning on getting, didn't get a dozen things I had wanted to buy, but all in all had a good time with my Gramma. It was good to get her out of the house for the day in any case.

Today I'm back home, cleaning up the damage the kitties left for me. I'm back to painting the bedroom; I only got one coat on it, and it really needs two. There's still about 3/4 of a wall where the desk and computer are that I haven't even gotten a first coat on yet - I'll get to that at some point.

Otherwise I got my grocery shopping done (no more week+ old milk!), donated three boxes of stuff and three bags of clothing (about 1/4 of the total stuff I have) to Goodwill, dropped off 5 pairs of shoes at the cobbler to get fixed, and started packing a suitcase. That's been the worst; realizing that there is no way that I can get all I want to send over to the UK in three suitcases (two checked, one carryon). I'm going to have to mail some boxes. Luckily sending mail to an APO box is relatively inexpensive.

Now if only I could get some large, sturdy boxes....

Countdown continues

Two. Two weeks from today I'll be gathering up my kitties, suitcases, and nerves and heading off to the airport for my flight to England.

There are two applications for our house - both of which are from less than confidence inspiring applicants. Unfortunately, that's who is out there right now, searching for a place; people who've been foreclosed upon or had to sell their house in a short sale. I haven't yet said yes or no to either, so the house is still going to be up this weekend. I don't really expect much traffic, though. But I'll get the house in order all the same.

I'm going shopping with my Gramma this weekend. which will be a much needed respite from all the drama on this side of the Chesapeake. Tax-free shopping at the outlet in Delaware! Woot!

This week is going to be a big one. My Bosch application is due Wednesday. My beloved Bug is leaving me on Thursday. The cat's have their first of two final vet appointments on Friday. I'll likely have to make a decision about the rental applicants, finish painting my bedroom, and start getting some of the crap that I don't want to Goodwill or the dump. I'm going to try and hit the Post Office this morning to mail my transcript for my Fellowship application, and hopefully Monday night I can sit down and concentrate on finishing the application and my essay.

Focus. The one thing I need most right now, and that which I have the least of.

Please, avoid Tasmanian vodka

Facebook is a wonderful thing. In July I reconnected with girls I went to high school with - some of whom I hadn't seen in 14 years!

Saturday night I reconnected with two of the three girls I lived with sophomore year of college. I hadn't seen them for 10 years! We had a lovely time, basically picking up right where we left off - lots of alcohol and lots of chatting! We were up until 4am, however, age has taken a toll on us all, and we all woke up around 8am unable to sleep any later. There was a time when we would have stayed in bed until 130 in the afternoon - getting up only to race to the dining hall before it closed.

There were pictures, reminiscences, and mind-blowing revelations. I really appreciate now what being a little older with a little more life experience puts all the things that were such huge deals into their proper perspective. Essentially we are all the same people, but with a lot more maturity and self-actualization. It's a beautiful thing.

It's just that there's got to be a time in many women's lives when they've got what they set out to get (a husband, a degree, a relationship, a family, a career, etc) and all those they set aside in the pursuit of those goals - unintentional and without malice - suddenly become important again.

One of the best things I love about my relationship with my best friend from elementary school is that we can go any length of time without talking, but the moment we reconnect, it's as if we just picked up exactly where we left off. I'm discovering now that it's not just the trait of that particular friendship, but all true friendships in general.

Moreover, last night I learned that if you don't want to be insanely drunk, avoid Tasmanian vodka. Luckily I didn't have to learn it personally :)

Biding time...

And then there were three... weeks left, that is.

I am so tired. Tired of work, tired of trying to rent the house, tired of not being able to sleep a sound night's sleep, tired of being the only one in the house, tired of being scared and feeling panicky at every strange noise at night, tired of being solely responsible for the last part of this move, tired of having to tie up all the loose ends, tired of having crap for dinner because it's not worth cooking food for one, tired of being stressed about coordinating this complex web of activities that has to be finished before I leave, tired of worrying about what I'm leaving behind, tired of the myriad little things that need to be fixed or painted or improved or redone before I leave, tired of people thinking that England=London, and tired of waiting for it all to finally come to an end.

I'm at the point where I need things to be completed in order to feel like I can move on. And I'm no where near that yet in most aspects. The car's shipping papers are in, but that's just the beginning. The cat's paperwork isn't close to finished. The house isn't rented, my bedroom isn't fully painted, the carpets still need to be replaced, the oven still needs to be fixed, and all the stuff that's still in the house - particularly in the basement and the garage - needs to be dealt with. I haven't finished my Bosch application. I haven't even started crafting a UK-friendly resume (excuse me, CV).

I guess today's an "I'm feeling overwhelmed" day. There's been an awful lot of those lately.

Frickin' A

So, I'm not the tidiest person in the world. For about a week, though, my house was like a museum.

That's all...a week. This week, not so much. I didn't make my bed, scoop cat poop, get rid of old cat food, put dishes in the dishwasher, etc this morning.

We haven't had anyone look at the house since DH left for England again a couple of weeks ago. I figured, no one was coming during the week, so meh, I can let it slide until the weekend.

Don't you just know that someone called and asked if they could look at the place this morning. Just my friggin luck. It's a total disaster, the master bedroom is like 3/4 painted, the basement has those two fans down there drying the floorboards where there was a leak, aforementioned stinky cat poo, food, no vacuuming. I just got totally screwed on that one.

Oh well.. what am I gonna do. Clean the heck out of the house tonight and not allow myself to slack again.

25 days left of this mess.

Down to four..

Wow.

Not that I expected anything different, but time really does keep slipping away. I'm down to 4 weeks now, and I am kind of in that zone where it's just before a whole lot of things are going to have to happen.

On my date list:

Submitting my Bosch Fellowship application (due Oct 15th)
Mailing the documents and papers to ship my car (scheduled to go Oct 16)
Get a rental car
Take the kitties for their first of two final vet appointments (Oct 17th)
Get the movers in to put my stuff into storage (Oct 23)

This list doesn't include the various dates I've made with friends and family for "final visits", a bunch of miscellaneous paperwork I need to keep track of (status of a refund for some deck stuff, get the HOA information for my property manager, car paperwork to Ray for clearance, etc)

It also doesn't include the myriad things that I need to finish around the house, including finishing painting the master bedroom, getting a painter to do the staircase and hallways, getting new carpet in the house, and clearing out the basement and garage of junk.

Let's just hope I keep my sanity over these next few weeks.

Just over 5 weeks and counting...

So, tomorrow marks five weeks until my last day at NOAA, and Saturday marks 5 weeks until I leave for the UK, and Sunday marks 5 weeks until I arrive in the UK.

5 weeks. Sounds like a longish time.

But once 5 weeks passes, it'll be 4 weeks and change. 4 weeks. That doesn't sound like any time at all. I have lots of stuff to do, many people to say goodbye to, and all those last minute logistics that need to be settled. Canceling phone, internet, etc. Shipping my car. Getting my cats to the vet for their health clearances. Packing my remaining stuff.

I'm kind of excited to be in the 4 week and under range. It makes dealing with being here rather than with DH a little easier. I mean, gosh, 4 weeks isn't long at all. I can handle that. It all seems much less daunting now than the beginning of the summer, when the first 6 weeks apart was just that - just the beginning. Now I'm on my last 5 weeks, the light has appeared at the end of the tunnel.

Now, if only I can keep the house clean until it gets rented, then I can actually relax - just a little.

Packed Bug!

Many sincere and heartfelt thanks to Jen and Brett, who themselves are moving to Harrogate and have offered a small corner of their container to take some of our things that weren't moved the first time (like the bed frame so our bed won't be on the floor!).

Luckily, all we had left to send at this time fit in the Bug:

Did I jinx myself?

And I thought yesterday was crazy...

Today DH and I kind of took it a little easy this morning... until about 11am when we got a call from a Realtor asking if she could show the house at 4pm. I was like CRAP! I was hoping to do serious cleaning after DH left, and just finish up some organizational stuff. No such luck, so DH and I spent our last day together mad cleaning - not company cleaning, showing your house to prospective renters cleaning. INSANE! We worked like dogs trying to get the carpets tolerable (they're being replaced, but our Realtor said "people react to what they see") trying to get the bathrooms organized and the master bedroom straightened up. Oy! I forgot to get to the downstairs bathroom, and the basement and the garage are disaster areas, but those are almost acceptable. The master bath isn't in great shape either. I - FINALLY - finished painting it yesterday, including the tough to reach area behind the toilet. There's a lot of paint spatters on the floor, though, that I haven't yet gotten up, and the caulk around the bathtub could use some help.

Once we got done all that we were reasonably going to get done, we both took a quick shower and were seconds away from leaving. DH wanted to say goodbye to the kitties, so we found Eliza (easy) and then looked for Henry. We couldn't find him anywhere. For a solid 15 minutes, we were panicking, running around outside just in case he had gotten out, looking in every conceivable spot for him. Finally, we found him sitting on a chair in the dining room (tucked into the tablecover, which is why we missed him the first ten times we looked there). We quickly got on the road and got to the airport.

But the story isn't over yet. DH's flight was supposed to leave at 530 for a 9pm flight out of Philly to Manchester. DH just called me at 6 to tell me that the plane they were counting on using had issues, and they're being switched to another plane. I hope to God he makes his connection. Argh!

Well hoping ain't getting. DH is home again tonight; his flight rebooked for tomorrow. I'll be sure to make the most of it ;)

Never. been. busier.

Ugh.

I have spent most of the last day working on the house, desperately trying to get it cleaned up and cleaned out such that it is a) in a reasonable condition for showing, as it went on the market to rent this weekend, and b) that my work over the next 6 weeks would be significantly easier with a solid 75% of the trash, junk, yada, taken out or at least identified as trash.

DH was supposed to have gone home Friday night, but since virtually nothing on the honey-do list was complete (he did get my front license plate mounted on my car!) we decided to change his flight to Sunday night to give him the chance to get a little more work done. Plus, he had to have a tooth filling replaced Friday morning.

May God let me get through the next 6 weeks without falling apart.

Marking # 32

In the grand tradition of my life, nothing is ever easy. I picked up DH from PHL yesterday afternoon - only I was about 45 minutes late getting to the airport because of a major accident on I95N yesterday afternoon that forced me to detour off the highway, and multiple major backups at the various tolls and whatnot. Nothing is ever easy, but I'm quite pleased that I have my DH home for my birthday.

Speaking of which, we're going to celebrate properly next weekend down in Palm Beach, however I did treat myself to one birthday gift:



I bought myself a pair of Wellies from DSW with a rewards and a birthday coupon I got in the mail. Sadly, they're going to come in very, very handy.

Moving movie

No, this is not an emotional moment or mesmorizingly cathartic experience, it's the two movies I made of the movers (and DH) getting our couch into our small rental house in the UK.

The first one is a little broken; I changed the orientation of the movie halfway through, so don't hurt your neck watching the first half:




And then finally:

In awe of Michael Phelps...

I am a rabid fan of these Olympics and in particular have been drawn most strongly by the men's gymnastics (my God - that pommel horse routine by that one American and the high bar routine by the other American - simply magnificent!) and, like everyone else in the US so it seems, the swimming.

I don't know whether it's the suits, the increased presence of technology to dissect and evaluate stroke technique, or what, but swimming, in my opinion, has never been more exciting. I swam competitively through most of high school, and I watch these guys and see things that 20 years ago we were told explicitly not to do (breathe only on one side, breathe every stroke, stay underwater too long, etc). Races are mostly exciting nailbiters, which makes me really happy, because that means that no one group has the absolute edge.

I didn't see the coverage of the 100M Fly live last night, but I did catch it on a YouTube link and now really regret missing it. I think that the main thing that I am so impressed about with Michael Phelps is that, from the outside, the guy looks to be one of the most well-adjusted superstars I've ever heard of. And you can tell exactly where it came from when you watch his mother's reaction to his racing in the stands. No win is taken for granted, no result is expected. Her holding her two fingers up last night, celebrating a second-place finish in the fly, made it seem that she would be just as happy with that result as the win. Given the media swarm about him and the whole Spitz 7 gold thing they seem to be pushing as their "hook" it's refreshing to see that the family doesn't seem to have bought into the hype. He's just her boy, racing his heart out and doing his best, and that's all she can ask for.

I know he hasn't had the perfect track record (the underage DUI incident in Salisbury MD comes to mind) but I think that made him even more grounded.

Between Phelp's and Shawn Johnson's lives as Olympians, and their demonstration that you can have a semi-normal life and still have success, it gives me great hope that systems like the Chinese and the former Eastern Bloc - where children who are potential Olympians are treated as commodities rather than people, will eventually fade away.

Go Phelps!


Edited to Add This is a most unfortunate photo of Phelps - very PG-13. Scroll down only if you dare:

Foiled! Darn you Chinese characters

So, as I've written before, I LOVE the opening ceremonies of the Olympics. I always watch, not so much for the artistic stuff, but really for the Parade of Nations. It's the moment where I think if aliens had given up on the human race, seeing that clump of humanity in the middle of a stadium might just restore it.

Moreover, I love the Parade of Nations as a little personal geography challenge - try and anticipate which country comes next!! Well, the Chinese apparently don't have an alphabet in their script, so instead of coming in in alphabetical order, they came in according to the number of strokes in the Chinese characters that make their country's name in Chinese. Totally totally screwed up my game - especially when Australia and Zambia were the final two countries immediately preceding the host country, who always comes out last.

Without my fun geography challenge, I was left with only one other diversion. It's a little game I like to call "What are they wearing?" The Hungarian women (flower patterned dresses), the Polish women (bad bridesmaid dresses) and the Spanish women (highlighter yellow outfits) were total WTF moments, topped only by the Lithuanian men in their "manpris." Oh dear. That being said, I loved a lot of the African and Pacific Island outfits that really reflected their cultures, thought too many countries opted for the boring blazer and pants combo (including the yawn-inspiring Americans) and loved the green of the Iranian's outfits (I think it was them - maybe it was India, I didn't take notes).

Kitty travel crates - check!

The last couple of days I've been getting ready - well, readier - for our upcoming move to the UK. One of my tasks was buying crates to ship the kitties in. We have a small carrier for going back and forth to the vet, but the airline requires that cats have three inches of clearance above their ears when they're standing up.

Saturday I bought a 21 inch high crate - since it was the smallest reasonable size in stock at my local Petsmart. I got it home and stuck Henry and Eliza in it (separately). They had about 5 inches of ear clearance, and a whole lot of room otherwise.

So, thinking that perhaps I could go the next size down, I bought an 18 inch high crate last night. I stuck the cats in that, and immediately knew that it wasn't going to fly (no pun intended). There was only about 1.5 inches of ear clearance, and while it looked cozier, it just seemed too cozy.

I called Continental to see whether it was possible to get a crate that was too big, and they assured me that unless I was shipping a Chihuahua in a Great Dane's cage, that bigger was better to be sure the cats had enough ventilation. So tonight I went and exchanged the smaller crate for another larger one, and I've put the cats' beds, blanket, and gobs of catnip in them to tempt the kitties to check them out and be comfortable with them.

Eliza goes in and out no problem. Henry is terrified.

My week+ in England at a glance - part 2

Thursday! Pushed into a corner, I realized that I had to let DH have his expensive toy. I gave him permission to buy whatever TV he wanted. This set off a flurry of research on his part to find out which was the best, yada yada yada. After revisiting the base exchange, several electronics stores, etc, he finally settled on a 37 inch LG flatscreen that cost as much as my plane ticket home. We got it home, realized that we didn't have the cable to connect it to the signal booster, which meant that he made a mad dash out to the Asda to get the cable so we could enjoy the TV that night. Here, I have to admit, it's a pretty awesome TV. The picture is incredible - I'm mightily impressed. We did some walking around town, bought two bottles of inexpensive but great wine at Morrisons, and enjoyed the TV that night.

Friday - this was our general home improvement day. None of the bathrooms had mirrors or shelves or towel racks, and DH had been planning just to borrow a drill so that he could install the bathroom mirror he bought, door handles on the wardrobe, etc. Anyway, we kept buying the wrong lightbulbs for the lamps we bought at Ikea, so we went to the DIY store to get the right ones (it took us four tries!). While there, we went ahead and bought a drill that was on sale, so back to the house we went with our new purchase so that we could drill holes all over the place. We installed a clothesline retractor thing in the backyard, the wardrobe handles, the bathroom mirror, the master bath towel rack, and I am sure a couple of other things I'm not remembering. Finally, by the end of the day, I started to feel like we had gotten the house into a basic living condition. There are still lots of little things I'd like to do: hang different curtains, have some plants in the back garden, install hand towel racks in the other two bathrooms, etc. But all in due time.

Saturday we strolled into town and had lunch in the Valley Gardens. We tried to enjoy what we expected to be our last day together, as I was hoping to fly home on Sunday. We had some decent sandwiches and some ice cream, people-watched a lot, and just enjoyed the nice weather.

Sunday - well, not too much great to say about Sunday. We spent the entire morning at the airport, hoping that I would get onto the flight home. Needless to say I didn't, so we headed back to Harrogate, hit an internet cafe and bought me a one-way ticket home (flying standby was not going to work), and just tried to get over the fact that we were both tired and cranky from waking up too early, and after 7 weeks separation, had spent a week together 24/7 and were getting a little edgy.

Monday DH went back to work and I enjoyed a quiet day on my own, walking around town and such. Not too much exciting happened, except we did hit our second pub quiz night together (we had gone the previous Monday as well).

Tuesday I woke up too damn early and flew home.

My week+ in England at a glance - part 1

So what the heck did I actually do while I was in the UK. Here's a quick day by day summary.

Arrive Saturday on an overnight flight from Philly to Manchester. DH was waiting for me at the airport and by 10am we were on our way to Harrogate in a rental Vauxhall Astra. My navigational expertise combined with my lack of experience on English roads took us on some slow, plodding, small road through Bradford rather than sticking to the highway. A mistake that was not repeated again. We stopped at our new English home before heading off to the B&B DH has booked us in for two nights until our stuff arrived. We walked into town for my introduction to Harrogate, had Thai food, and retreated back to the hotel early for some much needed R&R.

Sunday, after enjoying an interesting breakfast at our B&B, we took a drive into the countryside. We also spent some time at the house mapping out what furniture was going to be moved into which rooms in preparation for the movers' arrival the next morning.

Monday was moving day, and the movers were there bright and early Monday morning! That took the vast majority of the day - the two small moving dudes that were there had to deal with three floors of living space, and my constant inability to remember that in the UK, the first floor is called the ground floor, the second floor is the first floor, etc. The queen size box spring we sent didn't fit up the stairs, and neither did our Pottery Barn couch. The movers hoisted the couch through a second floor window that had a french door (I took a movie of this process, which was impressive!), but unfortunately after they left, DH and I worked together and disassembled the box spring so that it could be shoved up the stairs. Good thing we did too, since the bed frame I sent, which I thought was a full/queen frame, was in fact a twin/full frame, and so the bed is currently resting on the floor. I unpacked all our dishes and miscellaneous items while DH went out for Chinese take-out. It was a long, long day.

Tuesday was Ikea Day! We got to the Ikea in Leeds around 10am, searching for a small kitchen table and chairs, a wardrobe (there were NO proper closets in the house), and a desk, among other things. We made one pass through the store, and we had measured the backseat to ensure we could fit our purchases in the car. We had no problem with the desk and kitchen table, but realized that the wardrobe we wanted posed a serious challenge, and the chairs we wanted weren't in stock. After buying one set of things and remeasuring the car with a little different seat configuration, we went back into the Ikea, enjoyed a Swedish meatball lunch (soooo yummy) and bought the wardrobe, some other chairs, and an ironing board from the clearance section (yeah!). To make a long story short, we somehow managed to fit it all in the car (although DH noted that it was seriously unbalanced) and get home in one piece. We spent the remainder of the day assembling the wardrobe and kitchen table and chairs, and then collapsed again into bed.

Wednesday was electronics day! We visited the base commissary and base exchange for our initial purchases - including a hair dryer, which I had been without for 3 days! we bought some groceries, a toaster oven, iron, and the hair dryer, but not a vacuum or TV. We took all our first purchases home, where I discovered that I'd bought an American hair dryer! POOOP! That was going to have to go back. We then went out and visited the UK equivalent of Best Buy - Currys - to look at TVs, hairdryers, and vacuums. I found a hair dryer (yeah!) and a vacuum I liked, but unfortunately they were out of stock. More importantly (certainly from DH's point of view) I accepted that he was right and there were no TVs available that were not extremely expensive 26+ inch flatscreens. (there were little 13 inch TVs, but they were still flatscreen and ridiculously expensive as well). We stopped by Sainsbury's on the suggestion of the B&B owner and, lo and behold, found my vacuum! Hooray. We went back to the house and I vacuumed the loving heck out of our couch, which was covered in enough cat hair to build another cat! We built the desk from Ikea, and collapsed into bed.

TBC

England round-up

You know, I'm sure that while I was in Harrogate, I had a million little observations and stories that I intended to document on my blog. For example, I observed that the vast majority of people in Harrogate under the age of 60 either have no fashion sense whatsoever, or think that they are being stylish by wearing the latest cheap knock off of the latest fashion 3 sizes too small. I've never seen so many cellulite ravaged-thighs, muffin tops, unsupported oversized breasts (the underwire has clearly made no inroads and people are wearing bras with overstretched and paperthin cups - not a pretty sight), plumbers' cracks/coin slots, and poochy tummys jutting out from under belly tops in my life - and I have been to grad school in the recent past here in the states! Don't get me wrong, I'm no Italian fashion plate, but yikes. Wild.

As another example, when the Romans left Britain, they clearly took all their plumbing technology with them and permanently set the Britons 100 years back in terms of distributing hot and cold water through homes. I mean, separate water taps? I know they're cute and quaint in reproduction Victorian B&Bs, but in a house built since 2002? You've got to be kidding me. Moreover, "mixer" taps don't actually mix hot and cold water - they merely provide the two through separate openings on the underside of the tap very close to each other (as opposed to being on opposite sides of the sink) so that if you move your hands back and forth rapidly, you can intermediately treat the scald burn on your hands. WTF?

Finally, Harrogate has got to be one of the whitest towns I've ever been in (granted, I've never been to Salt Lake City). I saw exactly 3 people of color on the street. Three. That I could count them so exactly is depressing. It explains the dismal state of the food available. The two predominant flavors are either saccharine sweet or British bland. We had Thai - dominant flavor sweet; Chinese - dominant flavor sweet; pasta sauce from the Coop - sickeningly sweet; Italian food - bland; Spanish tapas - mostly bland; Indian food - not bland, but not especially flavorful and certainly not spicy. I blame it on the utter lack of people of color bringing their flavors into the city. All the waiters were Polish, and I desperately wanted to ask one of them where they got Polish food (mmmmm, pierogies) but I realized that more likely than not they lived in Leeds, and left all the yummy food there.

But luckily that represents the extent of the complaints I have right now. I can't even complain much about the weather - YET! - because it was generally very nice while I was there. Of course, the general consensus of those who had been there longer than 10 days was that the weather I experienced was in fact the exception for the summer thus far, but really, Harrogate is a nice little town. The neighborhood we're in is Goldilocks just right. Residential enough to be quiet and separated from city noise, but close enough that the downtown district and lots of shops are a quick, pleasant walk away. The gardens around town are pretty and peaceful. The town is clearly amazingly rich - BMWs, Mercedes, Jags, and Porsches replace Hondas, Toyotas, Fords, and Chevys. I can't figure out what all those people do, though, since there is no industry - heavy of otherwise - that I spied.

I don't get to move there full time until late October because of the cats, and by then the sun will start setting by 4pm and the weather will be decidedly worse. I'm pretty optimistic though that it will be an enjoyable three years.