We all know that as much as we complain about the NHS, in comparison to other developed nations it's not that bad, especially as we don't have to pay for appointments, operations, after care etc.. Yes, we pay for prescriptions but in comparison to the States....we are (I should really write, you are) lucky.
Due to a fear of dentists, I ended up having to visit one here...which led to me having an extraction. Now, my "day to day" dentist referred me next door to another (a peridontist) dentist to have a probable root canal which led him to refer me to an oral surgeon who would remove said tooth.
Throughout all of this I was given a breakdown of the costs i.e. how much I would have to pay once the insurance company paid it's share. Well, what a confusing world that is. The receptionist at the peridontist started to explain..."lets see now, your limit is $2000 for the year and to get a root canal will be eleven hundred; the insurance will pay 50%. So, you'll pay, minus the first fifty which you're liable for, plus this, add that minus the other"...by this time I was confused and just wanted to know - what do I pay woman, just tell me!?!
But this all aside, the care that I have received has been wonderful. They have all been very nice, patient and calmed my nerves (well, just about!). When I thought I was getting a root canal and it turned out it was an extraction (is that any better?), the second dentist didn't actually charge me, which was nice. The next day I ambled off to say goodbye to my tooth and when I got home, I picked up a voicemail saying the it was the nurse Karen; she and the doctor wanted to know how I am as they were worried about me. How sweet is that?
With all the talk of health reforms in the US, I can understand why the current administration want to introduce a similar concept like the NHS here; simply put if you don't have the insurance, you pay the full whack - and if you're on a low income, that's a lot of money. Whilst visiting all these said dentists I had to pop in to see another one because the peridontist wanted a second opinion - he did nothing to me, other than tell me to open my mouth. For that I was charged $53! talk about easy money.
So, it's understandable that there are so many adverts on various medicines. Now, I know there are the same kind of ones in the UK...but trust me, they really aren't the same.
When they advertise something for muscular pain, diabetes or a heart condition (for example), they are fairly dramatic advertisements and then if that isn't bad enough the voice over comes over with "taking said happy pill will not cure said illness but may cause..." and then they list the various side effects which include but not limited to; bloating, nausea, loss of sight, muscle spasms or even death!?!
Me thinks I'm going to have to be very careful whilst living here...unless I'm willing to sell a kidney, or a few cells...but that, is a whole other debate!
Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Tuesday, 31 August 2010
Sunday, 25 July 2010
Stop Press
A few observations that I thought were worth mentioning...
1. Drive Through
Whilst out walking one day, checking out my 'hood; I walked past a car park and at the front was a sign for a chiropractor. My vision then went towards a drive 'thru' window on the side of a building right next to the car park. My mind boggled - a drive thru chiropractor? How does that work? Do you drive up, someone comes out, you open your door to them, they wiggle your back around and then you drive off? But then I noticed that the window was for the bank (which was the building next to the car park). Ahh, that makes much more sense...!
2. Take Away
Most days I make lunch at home. But on the odd occasion when what I have in doesn't tickle my fancy, I pop out to the local bagel place or deli to grab something. I've learned that to get a "tuna bagel to take away" meets with a blank stare and a " Sorry ma'am?". The term used is 'to go'. So, whilst trying to remember this terminology, I end up tripping up on my words and getting even more confusing looks! Therefore, as I approach any food establish to grab a quick bite to eat, my mantra is "to go, to go, to go".
3. Call of Nature
Don't ask for a bathroom or toilet...always the 'restroom' and occasionally accepted as the 'ladies'.
4. Trust at Starbucks
The local Starbucks is frequented with people armed with laptops, study notes, presentations, business problems, personal problems and even exam papers to mark. This means there is a whole plethora of people sitting around sipping their tall-soy-mocha-chocca-latte-frappacino's. Now, this also means that they stay for a while and therefore, the need to use the restroom eventually arises. Now, call me paranoid but I'm amazed at how many people just get up and go, leaving their laptops, books and bags until they return. I find this very odd in a world where we are told everyday to 'be aware of unattended bags'. I suppose on the upside, I should be happy that my 'hood is safe enough that people feel fine to leave their bags unattended. But am I the only one to find it strange that no-one else is bothered?
5. TV Shows
Family Fortunes is called Family Feud; the US love, love their sport...nascar, wrestling, basketball...But the best programme is Jeopardy. Love it. Can't get enough of it. After years of seeing it on US TV shows or books making a reference to it, I can see why its still being aired. Hubby and I spend most evenings shouting out the answers (ok, I do) and if we/I don't know the answer we revert to the 'Groundhog Day' movie where Bill Murray, having seen the programme several times knows the answers and our favourite answer that he gives is "What is Lake Titicaca?" Great movie and a great answer....and even better it recently came up as an answer...love it.
6. Mobiles
Unbelievably, folk over here still drive whilst talking on their mobiles (or as the US call them, cells). Legislation is just coming through to ban people from sending/reading a TEXT whilst driving...crazy, crazy people.
7. Adverts...and then some
So many adverts...and on some of them at the bottom they have 'dramatization' or 'actor protrayal'...it does make me ask - why does this need to be stated? I thought that most adverts were portrayed by actors? Does the cartoon Kool Aid pitcher need to have the words, this is a cartoon? Yes, I know...I'm being a tad sarcastic, forgive me....but it does make me laugh!
1. Drive Through
Whilst out walking one day, checking out my 'hood; I walked past a car park and at the front was a sign for a chiropractor. My vision then went towards a drive 'thru' window on the side of a building right next to the car park. My mind boggled - a drive thru chiropractor? How does that work? Do you drive up, someone comes out, you open your door to them, they wiggle your back around and then you drive off? But then I noticed that the window was for the bank (which was the building next to the car park). Ahh, that makes much more sense...!
2. Take Away
Most days I make lunch at home. But on the odd occasion when what I have in doesn't tickle my fancy, I pop out to the local bagel place or deli to grab something. I've learned that to get a "tuna bagel to take away" meets with a blank stare and a " Sorry ma'am?". The term used is 'to go'. So, whilst trying to remember this terminology, I end up tripping up on my words and getting even more confusing looks! Therefore, as I approach any food establish to grab a quick bite to eat, my mantra is "to go, to go, to go".
3. Call of Nature
Don't ask for a bathroom or toilet...always the 'restroom' and occasionally accepted as the 'ladies'.
4. Trust at Starbucks
The local Starbucks is frequented with people armed with laptops, study notes, presentations, business problems, personal problems and even exam papers to mark. This means there is a whole plethora of people sitting around sipping their tall-soy-mocha-chocca-latte-frappacino's. Now, this also means that they stay for a while and therefore, the need to use the restroom eventually arises. Now, call me paranoid but I'm amazed at how many people just get up and go, leaving their laptops, books and bags until they return. I find this very odd in a world where we are told everyday to 'be aware of unattended bags'. I suppose on the upside, I should be happy that my 'hood is safe enough that people feel fine to leave their bags unattended. But am I the only one to find it strange that no-one else is bothered?
5. TV Shows
Family Fortunes is called Family Feud; the US love, love their sport...nascar, wrestling, basketball...But the best programme is Jeopardy. Love it. Can't get enough of it. After years of seeing it on US TV shows or books making a reference to it, I can see why its still being aired. Hubby and I spend most evenings shouting out the answers (ok, I do) and if we/I don't know the answer we revert to the 'Groundhog Day' movie where Bill Murray, having seen the programme several times knows the answers and our favourite answer that he gives is "What is Lake Titicaca?" Great movie and a great answer....and even better it recently came up as an answer...love it.
6. Mobiles
Unbelievably, folk over here still drive whilst talking on their mobiles (or as the US call them, cells). Legislation is just coming through to ban people from sending/reading a TEXT whilst driving...crazy, crazy people.
7. Adverts...and then some
So many adverts...and on some of them at the bottom they have 'dramatization' or 'actor protrayal'...it does make me ask - why does this need to be stated? I thought that most adverts were portrayed by actors? Does the cartoon Kool Aid pitcher need to have the words, this is a cartoon? Yes, I know...I'm being a tad sarcastic, forgive me....but it does make me laugh!
Wednesday, 16 June 2010
Quiet Street?
Whilst in good ol' Blighty, Hubby was in charge of finding a new apartment for us to reside in. He did this and a sterling job he did, even though I do say so myself. I trusted him to find something/somewhere that suited us as well as his commute to work.
Hubby said he found a really lovely place in Cambridge, near Harvard University, not far into work and plus it was a quiet street. I headed to the US without any concerns regarding our accommodation.
Can you guess where I'm going with this?
Upon entering the apartment 'block', I was greeted with four flights of stairs; but this didn't bother me as I was already warned that there was not a lift. I walked through the front door into the mini hallway and into the main living room. It was/is lovely...white walls, a small but perfectly functional kitchen, a decent sized bedroom and bathroom with just enough storage. Hubby did a grand job...bless he was so worried that I wouldn't like it. (He also did a sterling job on the furniture).
Again, Hubby assured me that it was a quiet street.
Four weeks later and alas that statement is so not the case. Most mornings, as Hubby bids me a fond farewell, he insists that I stay in bed - "have a lie-in". Unfortunately, it hasn't been easy to do this. Call me fussy but when one has a lie in or at least attempts one, a little silence is expected.
Every second week the bin men come along at about 8.30am followed swiftly by the recycling men - both doing a sterling but noisy job. By now, I'm wide awake and all hopes of a lie-in has disappeared. So I get up and meander into the kitchen to make breakfast. As I sit down to channel hop, I'm having to crank up the volume as the great bin men (or should that be garbage men?) of Cambridge have moved on....but along trundles pass a few trucks, cars, motorbikes...
...I was beginning to get used to this routine [of noise] and soon started to drown out (as much as I could) said noise. But then, as I thought I had become oblivious to the fracas, a new noise joined in. Announcements.
Someone would drive up and down ensuring that all residents were aware that something was about to take place the same/following day and they had to remove their cars. However, these announcements are a tad difficult to decipher. On one such morning, when a broadcast was being made, I moved closer to the window and heard a passing rambling of hydrants. They soon enough passed by again and I noted that the Cambridge fireman were making said broadcast and concluded that they were announcing 'Hug a Hydrant Day'. Lovely. However, me thinks this was not the case as I soon heard the gushing of water...they were emptying the hydrants? I'm not sure why, but who am I to question this procedure?
Maybe they will make the announcement again soon, but I'm declaring June 1st as Hug a Hydrant Day...but I digress.
Getting back to my point...besides the aforementioned noises, I also have to add nature to the mix. There are several types of birds each with their own call...which they make more or less at the same time; the rain and the thunderstorms. And boy do they have thunderstorms over here - its like having the Royal Philharmonic orchestra's drums right by your ear with a flashing 800 watt bulb moments away.
But not to complain too much, it does have its moments of quietness though, like at midnight...which is nice.
Hubby said he found a really lovely place in Cambridge, near Harvard University, not far into work and plus it was a quiet street. I headed to the US without any concerns regarding our accommodation.
Can you guess where I'm going with this?
Upon entering the apartment 'block', I was greeted with four flights of stairs; but this didn't bother me as I was already warned that there was not a lift. I walked through the front door into the mini hallway and into the main living room. It was/is lovely...white walls, a small but perfectly functional kitchen, a decent sized bedroom and bathroom with just enough storage. Hubby did a grand job...bless he was so worried that I wouldn't like it. (He also did a sterling job on the furniture).
Again, Hubby assured me that it was a quiet street.
Four weeks later and alas that statement is so not the case. Most mornings, as Hubby bids me a fond farewell, he insists that I stay in bed - "have a lie-in". Unfortunately, it hasn't been easy to do this. Call me fussy but when one has a lie in or at least attempts one, a little silence is expected.
Every second week the bin men come along at about 8.30am followed swiftly by the recycling men - both doing a sterling but noisy job. By now, I'm wide awake and all hopes of a lie-in has disappeared. So I get up and meander into the kitchen to make breakfast. As I sit down to channel hop, I'm having to crank up the volume as the great bin men (or should that be garbage men?) of Cambridge have moved on....but along trundles pass a few trucks, cars, motorbikes...
...I was beginning to get used to this routine [of noise] and soon started to drown out (as much as I could) said noise. But then, as I thought I had become oblivious to the fracas, a new noise joined in. Announcements.
Someone would drive up and down ensuring that all residents were aware that something was about to take place the same/following day and they had to remove their cars. However, these announcements are a tad difficult to decipher. On one such morning, when a broadcast was being made, I moved closer to the window and heard a passing rambling of hydrants. They soon enough passed by again and I noted that the Cambridge fireman were making said broadcast and concluded that they were announcing 'Hug a Hydrant Day'. Lovely. However, me thinks this was not the case as I soon heard the gushing of water...they were emptying the hydrants? I'm not sure why, but who am I to question this procedure?
Maybe they will make the announcement again soon, but I'm declaring June 1st as Hug a Hydrant Day...but I digress.
Getting back to my point...besides the aforementioned noises, I also have to add nature to the mix. There are several types of birds each with their own call...which they make more or less at the same time; the rain and the thunderstorms. And boy do they have thunderstorms over here - its like having the Royal Philharmonic orchestra's drums right by your ear with a flashing 800 watt bulb moments away.
But not to complain too much, it does have its moments of quietness though, like at midnight...which is nice.
Monday, 17 May 2010
I Really Am Dodgy!
After four long months, I finally packed my bags and headed for the airport in nervous anticipation that Mr Ash wouldn't cause too much of an annoyance at the airport and indeed to my flight!
I don't really like flying...I'm Taurean - solid earth is my friend, so I tried not to think too much about being in a metal canister at 30,000 odd feet above said earth, trying to avoid Mr Ash.
I said a sad goodbye to Mother, Father and Brother and tried not to break down in floods of tears...keep smiling...! Once through the security barriers, alas the tears came flooding down and I stared at the floor as I shuffled towards having to half undress to walk through a metal door.
I pulled myself together to ask whether I needed to take my shoes off...apparently not! Great, I was happy about that; as much as I am 100% for airport security, taking my shoes off can be a bit of pain. I mooched through and the depression took me over again. As I grabbed my coat and tried to put my passport back into my bag, a security officer asked to look at my other bag. I didn't even look at him, just mumbled yeah, sure and handed him my carry-on. He rubbed the bag with his big cotton pad and said all was ok...I mumbled again, great, thanks and bless, he tried to engage me by telling me to have a good flight but I just smiled faintly and ambled off to the Duty Free shopping.
I paid the extra to go Premimum Economy on Virgin Atlantic. Well worth it...as soon as you settled into the well spaced seats, you were offered a complimentary glass of champagne, fruit juice or water. Moments after take off, you were presented with a menu so you could make a decision on your main course. Very civilised in comparison to economy when the trolley just pushes past and you were told your choice. Dessert was a Gu pudding plus cheese & crackers - oh ain't we posh! An hour after lunch, flight attendants went around with a choice of fruit and an hour before landing - we were served with tea/coffee a cookie or a chocolate brownie.
Minor issue, the pilot landed a little too fast for my liking...I started to press my foot down, thinking ok, lady (obviously from that you can tell it was a female pilot), do you wanna find those breaks - you're very near water! The BA pilot from January had a much better handle of things (cue debate).
So, I arrived in Boston on Wednesday 12th - avoiding Mr Ash and now looking forward to reuniting with Mr Ayre. I stood in line hoping that I would get through immigration without any problems.
I didn't.
Never smile at the men and women in immigration - I did and never again will I do so. I stepped in front of the immigration officer and having looked at my US Visa, he asked my why I went back to the UK? I thought er, I still live there technically... The question did throw me slightly and I stuttered replying I had to finish off my contract..."Your what?' he replied..."Er, work, I had to finish work.." what else does contract mean, I wondered?
He obviously didn't like my answer; he got our his red marker, wrote PAX 1 across it and said - "follow the blue line to second immigration check"
Bloody marvellous...so I followed the blue line and joined the other 'dodgy' looking people in the "second immigration check" room. After waiting for 15mins, the first immigration officer (IO1) said my name...well, tried too...the second immigration officer IO2, took my passport off him and scanned the room. He matched my picture to me and said "ma'am" and beckoned me to the front. I went to the desk and IO2 said "is it Ayre?" I said yes, he turned to IO1 and said "hey, you could try that". I tried not to smile. And then the following took place:
IO2 - (still holding my passport) Georgetown - where's that?
Me - Guyana...South America
IO2 - why'd you leave?
Me - oh, politcal unrest
My mind - why did I say that - do you know where you are?
IO2 - political unrest? Hmmm...(hands passport to IO1 and walks away)
IO1 - political unrest?
Me - a yeah...my mum and dad left in 1979...
IO1 - oh (starts to look at my passport), that's ok
My mind - phew
IO2 - starts walking back muttering political unrest
IO1 - how long have you worked with Resources?
Me - that's my husbands work place, I don't work for them
IO1 - oh yeah it says you're on a H4 visa (continues to look at passport)
My mind - oy-vay, how long is this going to take?
IO1 - oh, happy belated birthday, a week ago
Me - (smile) thanks
IO2 - (interrupts) hey man, how come so many are here?
IO1 - I'm workin' on three already, they don't speak English
IO2 - yeah, but we got get on
IO1 - well, I'm doin' what I can, I'm dealing with this lady quickly cause she can speak English
My mind - don't smile, don't smile...
IO1 - that's all fine ma'am - have a pleasant stay.
I thanked him, grabbed my suitcases and headed for the exit. I walked out and Hubby was waiting with a "what did you do" look on his face.
I started to laugh as I said to him that I obviously did look very dodgy...welcome to America - land of the free?
I don't really like flying...I'm Taurean - solid earth is my friend, so I tried not to think too much about being in a metal canister at 30,000 odd feet above said earth, trying to avoid Mr Ash.
I said a sad goodbye to Mother, Father and Brother and tried not to break down in floods of tears...keep smiling...! Once through the security barriers, alas the tears came flooding down and I stared at the floor as I shuffled towards having to half undress to walk through a metal door.
I pulled myself together to ask whether I needed to take my shoes off...apparently not! Great, I was happy about that; as much as I am 100% for airport security, taking my shoes off can be a bit of pain. I mooched through and the depression took me over again. As I grabbed my coat and tried to put my passport back into my bag, a security officer asked to look at my other bag. I didn't even look at him, just mumbled yeah, sure and handed him my carry-on. He rubbed the bag with his big cotton pad and said all was ok...I mumbled again, great, thanks and bless, he tried to engage me by telling me to have a good flight but I just smiled faintly and ambled off to the Duty Free shopping.
I paid the extra to go Premimum Economy on Virgin Atlantic. Well worth it...as soon as you settled into the well spaced seats, you were offered a complimentary glass of champagne, fruit juice or water. Moments after take off, you were presented with a menu so you could make a decision on your main course. Very civilised in comparison to economy when the trolley just pushes past and you were told your choice. Dessert was a Gu pudding plus cheese & crackers - oh ain't we posh! An hour after lunch, flight attendants went around with a choice of fruit and an hour before landing - we were served with tea/coffee a cookie or a chocolate brownie.
Minor issue, the pilot landed a little too fast for my liking...I started to press my foot down, thinking ok, lady (obviously from that you can tell it was a female pilot), do you wanna find those breaks - you're very near water! The BA pilot from January had a much better handle of things (cue debate).
So, I arrived in Boston on Wednesday 12th - avoiding Mr Ash and now looking forward to reuniting with Mr Ayre. I stood in line hoping that I would get through immigration without any problems.
I didn't.
Never smile at the men and women in immigration - I did and never again will I do so. I stepped in front of the immigration officer and having looked at my US Visa, he asked my why I went back to the UK? I thought er, I still live there technically... The question did throw me slightly and I stuttered replying I had to finish off my contract..."Your what?' he replied..."Er, work, I had to finish work.." what else does contract mean, I wondered?
He obviously didn't like my answer; he got our his red marker, wrote PAX 1 across it and said - "follow the blue line to second immigration check"
Bloody marvellous...so I followed the blue line and joined the other 'dodgy' looking people in the "second immigration check" room. After waiting for 15mins, the first immigration officer (IO1) said my name...well, tried too...the second immigration officer IO2, took my passport off him and scanned the room. He matched my picture to me and said "ma'am" and beckoned me to the front. I went to the desk and IO2 said "is it Ayre?" I said yes, he turned to IO1 and said "hey, you could try that". I tried not to smile. And then the following took place:
IO2 - (still holding my passport) Georgetown - where's that?
Me - Guyana...South America
IO2 - why'd you leave?
Me - oh, politcal unrest
My mind - why did I say that - do you know where you are?
IO2 - political unrest? Hmmm...(hands passport to IO1 and walks away)
IO1 - political unrest?
Me - a yeah...my mum and dad left in 1979...
IO1 - oh (starts to look at my passport), that's ok
My mind - phew
IO2 - starts walking back muttering political unrest
IO1 - how long have you worked with Resources?
Me - that's my husbands work place, I don't work for them
IO1 - oh yeah it says you're on a H4 visa (continues to look at passport)
My mind - oy-vay, how long is this going to take?
IO1 - oh, happy belated birthday, a week ago
Me - (smile) thanks
IO2 - (interrupts) hey man, how come so many are here?
IO1 - I'm workin' on three already, they don't speak English
IO2 - yeah, but we got get on
IO1 - well, I'm doin' what I can, I'm dealing with this lady quickly cause she can speak English
My mind - don't smile, don't smile...
IO1 - that's all fine ma'am - have a pleasant stay.
I thanked him, grabbed my suitcases and headed for the exit. I walked out and Hubby was waiting with a "what did you do" look on his face.
I started to laugh as I said to him that I obviously did look very dodgy...welcome to America - land of the free?
Thursday, 22 April 2010
Gawd Love 'Em
It's been just over a week since I arrived in Cambridge and what I've discovered so far is very nice. Hubby and I are surrounded by Harvard and its many, many buildings which lends itself to the neighbourhood being quite lively and diverse.
Having started to settle into the 'hood, and not had a decent chat with the family, I called to let them know that I was fine, everything was going well (even though I still feel like I'm in holiday mode!) and I was missing them.
Having started to settle into the 'hood, and not had a decent chat with the family, I called to let them know that I was fine, everything was going well (even though I still feel like I'm in holiday mode!) and I was missing them.
It's amazing how you fall back into being who you were before you left home!
When my friends called to ask if I wanted to meet up with them, a slight panic of telling my parents would wash over me (just to explain, my childhood was brilliant but strict - never allowed to stay out late unless the parents knew who I was going out with; I had to adhere to the time I said I would be back at etc...) hence the panic when I had to inform said parents that I was off out for the night!
One night, such an occasion rose and I thought, 'ang on a minute, I'm married, they can't say anything!'... so I spoke to Mother and said that I was off out...no questions asked, just an ok, see you later. How bizarre was that?!
The girls decided to throw me a 'last night at my flat' party and we all sat on floor cushions munching on nibbles and knocking back the wine. Everyone left at midnight; but me, Best Friend and Best Friend's sister stayed on chatting until 2am!
I went back home, thinking I hope the parents are not up...but popped my head around the Parents bedroom door and Mother said "hmm...what time do you call this?", I grinned and said, sorry - I was talking! Just then Father walked out of the bathroom, he looked at me...and suddenly, I was 16 again... "where have you been?" he demanded to know - just out talking, I replied... "until 2am? Did you lock the front door?", yes Dad I replied meekly and then I sauntered off to bed. I couldn't believe that I had just been told off!
***
Quickly enough, I fell into the Parents routine of getting up by 9am, having breakfast, mull around, pop into Croydon and then about 3pm decide what to have for dinner, fumble around in the fridge for the ingredients, pop out the shops to pick up anything missing, cook dinner and then settle down in front of the TV to eat said dinner.Now, I have very different viewing habits than The Parents, but as it's their house and only the upstairs TV has Sky HD i.e. I can record my favourite programmes, I was happy to go along with what they wanted to watch. But, I had forgotten how much of a routine they could fall into. Every night, the programming/evening went as follows:
6-7pm: ITV News and Weather
7pm & 30 secs :Emmerdale theme music (Father likes to hear it but doesn't watch the programme)
7-8m: Two and Half Men
8-9.30pm: channel hopping trying to find something to watch whilst complaining that despite over 40 channels to choose from, there was nothing to watch.
9.30-10pm: cup of tea made
10pm (or earlier most nights): I'm abandoned. But this 'abandonment' was not completely unwelcome; it meant that I could then watch the stuff that I wanted to (Sex and the City, True Blood, Fringe...) but best of all I could flick between channels.
The Parents hated it when I tried to flick between the channels. But I only did this because once you've seen one set of adverts, its guaranteed that they will repeat the same ones again and again each break. And not only the adverts, but the promo's of the up and coming snippets of the next 'exciting' installment of 'What Katy did next'. There's only so many times a sane person can watch said adverts/promos over and over and over...
One said promo was one about South Park. We all know South Park and how close to the line (heck even over it) they can go. But their particular promo went as follows:
In a fudge factory, kids amble up to the assembly line, where workers are putting fudge into boxes:
"Oh my God, its Tom Cruise!"
"I didn't know Tom Cruise was a fudge packer?!"
"I am not a fudge packer!"
"What's going on?"
"It's Tom Cruise, he's a fudge packer"....
I merely rolled my eyes and then looked across to the Parents and that made me laugh. They just looked almost blankly at the TV. I mused as to whether they understood the term 'fudge packer'...I was thinking not!
Mother looked at me..."there's nothing but nonsense on the TV now"
Each week, guaranteed on a Monday evening, Father would ask me if X Factor is on, I would say, do you mean American Idol, he said yes, I would say that it's on a Wednesday Dad, he'd reply oh ok...every week...without fail...and then it got worse when Britain's Got Talent and then it was the confusion of what programme was on when!..
Oh I do miss Ma & Pa and their way of not quite getting things, their memory loss and selective hearing...gawd love 'em.
Monday, 19 April 2010
Three(ish) Weeks & Volcanic Ash
I'm trying not to panic...
...it dawned on me earlier today that it's not too long before I would board the plane to Boston and then I can see my darling Hubby after four very difficult months. But, I hear you cry, that's no reason to panic - surely it should be Hubby panicking...after all he's had four blissful months without me nagging him!
Well, I'm 'panicking' because of the Icelandic ash that hovers in the air and the possibility of another eruption causing another week of cancelled flights. Some people have had dreadful ordeals trying to get home and I'd hate to get caught up in that fiasco - I'm not a keen traveller of those metal objects in the sky!
It made me think though - what's the alternative? Visions of taking the Eurostar to Paris, another train across mainland Europe into Russia, catching a trip with a fisherman on the Bering Sea to Alaska, then another train to Boston via Canada. It may just work...and then An Affair to Remember popped into mind and so I searched for a transatlantic voyage to NYC.
And they still do them! It takes six days from Southampton to New York, pier 12. It would be great to take a voyage across the Atlantic; evenings filled with dinner dances, days playing shuffleboard but perhaps I've romanticised the whole thing...and me being me, I would have to be with Hubby to really enjoy myself; I couldn't do it without him.
So, with that in mind, me thinks I'll have to pray to Hephaestus (Greek god of fire renamed Vulcan by the Romans) so said volcano doesn't through a hissy fit and spew more clouds of ash therefore stopping me from seeing Hubby.
The only good thing to come out this? The jokes....
"I came out of my house yesterday and was hit on the head by a bag of sausages, a chocolate gateau and a box of fish fingers. I realised it must be the fallout from Iceland."
Classic...
...it dawned on me earlier today that it's not too long before I would board the plane to Boston and then I can see my darling Hubby after four very difficult months. But, I hear you cry, that's no reason to panic - surely it should be Hubby panicking...after all he's had four blissful months without me nagging him!
Well, I'm 'panicking' because of the Icelandic ash that hovers in the air and the possibility of another eruption causing another week of cancelled flights. Some people have had dreadful ordeals trying to get home and I'd hate to get caught up in that fiasco - I'm not a keen traveller of those metal objects in the sky!
It made me think though - what's the alternative? Visions of taking the Eurostar to Paris, another train across mainland Europe into Russia, catching a trip with a fisherman on the Bering Sea to Alaska, then another train to Boston via Canada. It may just work...and then An Affair to Remember popped into mind and so I searched for a transatlantic voyage to NYC.
And they still do them! It takes six days from Southampton to New York, pier 12. It would be great to take a voyage across the Atlantic; evenings filled with dinner dances, days playing shuffleboard but perhaps I've romanticised the whole thing...and me being me, I would have to be with Hubby to really enjoy myself; I couldn't do it without him.
So, with that in mind, me thinks I'll have to pray to Hephaestus (Greek god of fire renamed Vulcan by the Romans) so said volcano doesn't through a hissy fit and spew more clouds of ash therefore stopping me from seeing Hubby.
The only good thing to come out this? The jokes....
"I came out of my house yesterday and was hit on the head by a bag of sausages, a chocolate gateau and a box of fish fingers. I realised it must be the fallout from Iceland."
Classic...
Thursday, 15 April 2010
Honey & Ginger
It's my beautiful and wonderful best friend's birthday on Sunday; amazingly the weather will be great and she has decided that it will be diaquiri's and a picnic in the park - that's why we're BF's!I asked her what did she want me to bring along and she asked me to make 'your strawberry cake'...I grinned, knowing that she would make such a request.
But it reminded me that I wanted to share a great recipe that I recently 'invented'...I didn't do the hours of testing; I simply wanted to bake and opened the cupboards thinking what could I use out?
My thoughts ran to Parkin but fancied doing something else; so I picked up the ground ginger (a key ingredient in Parkin) and as I moved things around, randomly thinking that I really should tidy things up in here [the cupboard] my hand fell on to some honey that Hubby and I had bought to drizzle over something!
And from that was born my Honey & Ginger cake:
For a 8" round cake tin - non stick is best, buttered and slightly floured
- Cream 10oz of 'cake butter' (e.g. stork) and 10oz sugar until the butter is a lot lighter
- Add one at a time 4 large (room temp) eggs - beating in each one well
- Add in two batches 10oz of cake flour until just combined - do not over mix
- Add 11/2 teaspoons of ground ginger and mix - again do not over mix
- Put half the mixture in the tin
- 8-10 teaspoons of honey randomly placed on the batter
- Put remaining batter on top, smooth/swirl on top
- Bake at about 180 degrees for about 40mins - but cook according to your oven!
- You'll have some batter left over - so make some cupcakes!
Enjoy!
(By the way - 'your strawberry cake' is a vanilla sponge, filled with a cream cheese icing and fresh strawberries or for a less sweet version, a mascapone & fresh strawberries filling).
(image: Microsoft Clipart)
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