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So this is what happened…
In approximately a week’s time my beloved and I were set to pack our lives into suitcases, give our house keys to some select strangers in return for rent money, and move to the United States of America. Boston, in fact.
One however can not always foresee the visa application process not following its intended course.
Still our fact finding mission in November last year threw light on a number of interesting points of note I thought I’d share with you – just in case you yourself are about to embark on a similar endeavour.
1) At the car hire place, when offered a free upgrade to a mini van, take it. Your choice of car (although completely adorable and, if you think about it, really quite funny…) means your husband will look like this. All week.
Neil standing next to 'The Beast'
2) When an estate agent tries to sell you a ‘ranch house’, and your mind conjures up a whole host of romantic and whimsical images of skipping through pastures green whilst the cattle graze on yonder hillock – they really mean a wooden bungalow. On a main road. Next to a gas station.
Ranch House in Newton, MA.
3) Ovens are HUGE. Even the little ones. This one was used exclusively at Thanksgiving and Christmas and for the remaining period as useful storage for an overflow of crockery. This is not unusual. (Point of note – this is the kitchen we removed from our old house in England and we have seen many times since. Did everyone own this kitchen at one time or another?).
The omnipresent kitchen
4) A ‘full disclosure’ is normally provided with every house viewing (or ‘showing’ as our friends across the pond would have it).
Expect information to be forthcoming
5) A garden or ‘yard’ is normally only considered the domain of people with pets or children. Otherwise a deck for the purpose of ‘grilling with friends’ is thought sufficient.
An example of a deck. Perhaps not the best.
6) If you’re posh you frequent Starbucks. If you wear a Burberry hat at a jaunty angle and drive a modified motor vehicle, Dunkin’ Donuts is considered your crib.
The sun shines on the Woburn ('Wooburn') Dunkin'
7) If One is employed in public services, work must be carried out during daylight hours.
Please note: an actor was used for purposes of re-enactment. This photograph does not represent a true occurrence.
8 ) Unfortunately my dry wit was ill received as it transpires no one has ever heard of Duncan Goodhew.
Local Reading store
9) You can travel half way across the globe, but still end up right back where you started.
En route
10) See.
Welcome to Reading, MA.
Reading, MA. high street.
11) They even have the same newspaper…
The Reading Chronicle
12) Our mini adventure ended with a trip to the beach at sunset where we watched as the plane that would take us home landed, ate chips, and froze ourselves to death. Just like England really.
Plane coming in to land at Logan airport
True Brit enjoying some bracing sea air.
Only a little bit different.
The Day Job
I do Social Media now.
The business consultancy side though, not the agency stuff. You have to wear cooler trainers, and still I haven’t graduated from Converse.
A brief pictorial ‘day in the life’:
One only finds well articulated public notices in Kew, surrounded by a sea of twee.
I have no idea where the art came from.
Quite often you will find people getting very excited at the prospect of eating an M&S salad on the stairwell. Mind you they are very good.
The Boss has been experimenting with pastels lately.
Sales are still managing hot desking.
I remain the only female in this outfit.
Simple joys
I have a car.
Not a very big car but I love it for the simple fact that it means I can go anywhere I want, whenever I want, and I miss it dearly when it occasionally its checked in at the car doctors. Unfortunately this has been a little bit too frequent of late following a service, things being taken out, new bits being put back in and the odd bit of re-spraying after some delightful individual decided to make their mark with a particularly sharp object…3 times.
So although I love my car it has felt like it has been eating my money faster than I have been able to earn it. For the time being therefore, I’m trying to be good, not giving in to that fabulous jacket thing I saw in the sale today (we totally bonded) and instead have thrown myself into finding appreciation in the simple pleasures of life. And this hasn’t been too hard at all actually. Today has been a rather good one where happiness has been…
Finding cherries for £1 for 2lbs in the fruit market
Finding that even though my peg bag died I had just enough left over curtain material to whip up a new one
White flowers in a jug on the kitchen window sill
My much loved and much used Hummingbird Bakery cook book
And the lovely banana loaf recipe that I have fallen in love with
And what is more my husband comes home on Monday after a week away in Milwaukee and I can’t wait to see him. I’m totally good being on my own, but having him around is just so much funner!
Plus I have a bridesmaids dress to fit in next Saturday and when it comes to banana loaf (particularly warm with custard) I require supervision…
And so it begins…
Amy: Neil, I’m just about to start ironing, do you mind watering the lawn?
Neil: Umm…….
Amy: I think that is a fair division of labour
Neil: Hmm…..yeah ok then…
Amy: Ummm…Neil?
Neil: What?
And so it begins.
Brown Bag
Just down the road from my office is a little cafe called the Brown Bag.
Sometimes – although normally on a Friday – the youngest members of the office decamp here and we enjoy a whole solitary hour in the comfort of the big brown leather sofas, putting the world to right over a luxurious strawberry milkshake.
Except me, since I can only enjoy anything dairy now in moderation, so I make do with a tea.
You see, apparently one of my ‘enzymes’ has gone missing.
The local constabulary since however have told me “it is not a police matter”.
Deeply disappointing.
Strange familiar
Where I work we have quite a unique way of doing things when it comes to car parking. Due to the limited grounds surrounding the Council Offices, employees are issued with a free pass that entitles you to free parking in any one of 3 public car parks in Wokingham Town Centre. As I travel in on the M4 I have been given a pass for a car park the other side of town, about a brisk 10 minutes walk from the (dis)comfort of my office chair.
Although initially I was rather miffed at adding an extra 20 mintues onto my working day, especially as it takes at least 45 minutes in the car to reach Wokingham, I have since got the hang of my small hike across town and find it a great way to either prepare myself or wind down from a raucous day in the planning office.
Plus I love the little bits of peoples lives I experience, especially in the morning, all in the space of just under a mile.
Normally I arrive at my car park at approximately 08:20 which means I can make it to my desk for an even 08:30 unless anything unforseen apprehends me on the way, like the other morning when a disability scooter had broken down outside of the bakery causing a pedestrian pile up, or the time a young mum lost a wheel from her buggy which I dutifully chased after. Otherwise, without fail, my morning walk resembles the same pattern of people and events that if I’m honest, I would miss if I was given a different parking pass;
At approximately 08:23 an alarm clock will go off at the house with the blue door as I exit my car park (I’m guessing the clock is slow or the owner a little quirky…). On the street corner by the art gallery I pass by a lady with very curly hair taking two small boys to school, the elder one always lagging slightly behind. As I walk up the high street the chap who owns the pet shop puts out the rabbit hutches he stores in a lock-up to the side of his property, a lady will be waiting in the entrance of the estate agents, presumably for the key holder, and the girl with the alternative taste in leggings will walk through the door of the hairdressers.
As I approach the town hall I often see two ladies walk by, deep in conversation and wearing sky blue t-shirts who I think work in the travel agent. Walking past the bank, a professional looking gentleman with a tan briefcase will say hello to me – I still can’t decide if I know him from somewhere or not….
A little further down the road I will wave to my friend Karim who owns a sandwich shop in town as he runs to the newsagent to get his daily paper before the second shift starts. Finally as I round the corner past the barber shop, with my office in sight, I will pass a full figured lady who has the most beautiful smiling face - the sort of person you can never imagine being angry or sad. We normally smile and wish each other a good morning.
I then scrabble about in my bag looking for my security pass to try and get into the Council building. Carl, the caretaker, who stands in the main entrance each morning will often take pity on me and open the tempremental automatic doors, usually at the point where I have started emptying the contents of my handbag onto the pavement.
I do wonder sometimes whether people think of me – normally a little bit grumpy looking (due to it being a.m.), quite often with ‘happy hair’ and remenants of toothpaste still lingering around my mouth – as part of their morning routine as I regard them.
In a way I find it a little sad that we share a part of each others lives on an almost daily basis, yet it is quite likely we will always remain strangers….
To be honest though, if one of them stopped along their way and started a conversation with me ,I’m sure I would be a little taken aback.
But I hope I would think of something to say….
Because all friends start out as strangers. And you can never have too many friends.
In fact I think this chap is spot on: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/6958227.stm
