Isn't the Lettuce Brave?

Flashback Post #2: On this day in 2007...

2012-01-31T08:54:00.000-05:00

Yeah, soon I'll get back to writing original stuff, but for now...this one's pretty good.

Thought for the Day...Kinda...

Feel free to dive into the archives over there and let me know what you think of what you find. The more I re-read, the more I can see how my blog writing is progressing...and regressing...so I'd love to hear your thoughts as well.

Flashback Post: This day in 2006

2012-01-30T14:42:00.001-05:00

Go check this out...it's about the cancelling of a television program that to be honest, I only have vague memories of watching, let alone being THIS outraged about it being cancelled.

In which the preacher's kid in me comes out to play...rough

Crazy...that was six years ago today.

You Days of Our Lives Jinxed It, Didn't You?

2012-01-30T10:16:00.001-05:00

Mommy, did you say GO?, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

If you are not familiar with the Days of Our Lives Jinx phenomenon, let me briefly explain. I watched Days from the time I was in pre-school until about four years ago, so I consider myself somewhat of a home-grown expert on soap opera plot construction, at least for American soaps. I also should mention that I just did the math on that, and I spent an incredibly HUGE chunk of my life in the fictional town of Salem...and I'm not sure whether I'm impressed by my own loyalty or horrified that I've just admitted that in public.

Right, so on to the Jinx: You can always tell on Days that a major plot twist is coming when a character utters something in terms of absolutes. I'll give you an example. "Nothing can ever come between us again!" is the signal that the third member of the love triangle is about to arrive in town. "Your prognosis is beyond excellent and I'm sending you home today!" means that this character will be in hospice by the holidays. That sort of thing is the Jinx, and I have a hard time avoiding it in my real, non-soap life.

I seem to have done it again, on a grand scale. Remember that post before, about how we had sold our house? The buyer backed out. So, all of that "we are on the path to happiness" business of last week is now replaced with "hello, Square One, fancy meeting you here, AGAIN."

I chose today's picture because it's a visual reminder of the Days of Our Lives Jinx which is loosely related to the adage about counting chickens too early...and because it's my Hunky Man, whom I miss desperately. Ugh. I need a do-over.

SOLD! Almost...

2012-01-25T08:53:00.001-05:00

Top of the World...well, okay, the Moor..., a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

Yep, after almost four years of waiting and tidying and waiting and chasing down estate agents for feedback someone wants to buy our house.

Let me say that again, because I'm not sure I believe it yet... SOMEONE WANTS TO BUY OUR HOUSE IN KEIGHLEY!

I'm not sure how I feel. I'm overwhelmed and overjoyed and when you add in that I'm probably overtired I find myself to be a little bit...sad. Yep, as much as I used to scream that I hated that house, I'm sad. It was our first house after we were married. It was the house where I stayed the first time I came to visit Hubs.

But at the same time, everything is coming together in a way that I admit I never thought it would. Hubs has his interview at the end of February, almost a month from today. The buyer wants to take possession of the house in four weeks. I may very well be picking Daisy up from Atlanta in less time than that. It's all more than I ever thought would happen.

Now to find a place to live so that the four of us aren't continuing to squat in Anne and Damian's house...

Hey, did I mention I'm now working at Clemson University? No? Oops. Next blog post. Swear.

Lurve

2012-01-08T09:00:00.001-05:00

Lurve, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

Well, my bags are packed (not really), it's early morn (in the US), the taxi's waiting (he's here for a neighbor I guess), he's blowin' his horn (not really, that's just someone jaywalking)...

I don't leave till tomorrow, but I am trying to go on and process it today so that tomorrow isn't so awful. Flying days SUCK, but at least there are some bright spots this time:

I start a new job on Tuesday. More details on that later, as I'm not sure they've told everyone else that applied for the position.

We are an interview (and possibly a piece of documentation or two) away from Simon having his green card.

I will be living with my ClownA at least M-F and hopefully more if I can find a place to live that I can afford.

But still, something is tugging at me. This tiny island grabs hold of you with all it has when you let it, and it is so very hard to let go. One day I'll be back for good, but for now we are ready to start a new chapter living in America. I've been ready to start that chapter since May!

See you guys on the other side of a big ocean and a tin bird.

Three Years and Counting

2012-01-04T11:30:00.001-05:00

At Last..., a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

So it was the third of January, 2009, and I was getting married. Simon had been in the US for about two weeks already, and we had done the rounds with family and friends, had wedding showers, Christmas parties, and New Years Eve had been rung in properly. I had spent the night with my sister and brother in law the night before, and that morning I remember waking up and thinking "FINALLY!"

Everything was as normal there, and to be honest it didn't seem like anything exciting was happening. My friend Leah and her son had stayed there as well, and we all got up, had coffee and breakfast, and went about our morning. I hadn't made an appointment to have my hair done or makeup done at all, having chosen instead to just do it myself. Susan was my matron of honour and she couldn't go have that stuff done because she was dealing with a perfect little daughter of her own who was just two days past turning a month old.

The last minute preparations were going on when we realised we didn't have any Yorkshire Tea. It was important to me that we have it as it is Simon's favourite and instead of toasting with alcohol (since we were having the reception in a church) he and I had special mugs and would toast with tea. But we had no tea.

Mom and Dad couldn't go get it (I can't remember why). Susan and Dave couldn't go get it (see above month old baby Joy) so Leah and I set out to find the store and get some tea. We had to go what seemed like a million miles away to find this little British Import Shop to get some...a fact that I still laugh about now as I walk into Whole Foods and there's m'tea, on the shelf.

We got back and I discovered that I was not as proficient at putting on makeup as I thought I was. No worries, Liz helped me tremendously. There was no plug in the bride's room for my straighteners so I went to the bathrooms off the fellowship hall of the church and tried any number of ways to get the wild brush on top of my head to behave. Nothing doing. Finally I pulled it back into the messy bun I wear most of the time, pinned my veil on, and here we go.

Liz was helping me into my shoes when the call came that we had to go SOON so she scampered off to make sure her daughter, our flower girl, was ready to go. Unfortunately, I discovered too late the buckle on my left shoe was too loose. I hadn't had a chance to stand in it and tell her it needed tightening as I had the right shoe, and I couldn't bend over to do it myself. At least my right shoe was on properly, I told myself. I can always try to keep my weight shifted over to my right. I won't look too much like I should be shimmying up a ladder and ringing the bells and shouting Sanctuary!! Well, I hoped I wouldn't anyway...

I remember standing in the narthex and Andrew, Simon's brother, giving Mary Catherine (his and Liz's daughter and our flower girl) some last minute instructions and then winking at me. I remember that because he had looked so very uncomfortable the rest of the time that the wink seemed incongruous to the point of being funny. Maybe he was trying to help himself relax as well as make me smile?

Wedding March started..."How do you solve a problem like Maria?" from The Sound of Music, natch...and in Susan went, followed by Andrew. They shut the doors and Daddy and I got ready and then suddenly there we went, me reminding him not to let me fall and holding his arm for dear life.

And then I saw Simon look at me and smile, and I know it's trite to say but everything else was gone. I barely heard anything Daddy said during the ceremony. I almost didn't answer when it was my turn. Didn't matter. I was marrying Simon, my best friend and the most wonderful soul I know.

Remember the loose shoe? That could have been a real problem if I hadn't been powering through the unsteadiness and pain in my foot. Halfway through the ceremony, for example, because I hadn't asked anyone to tighten it I could SEE the skirt of my gown wiggling because my leg was shaking uncontrollably on that side due to that darned shoe. Thankfully after the ceremony Leah came to the rescue and we took both the shoes off. I had said from the start I was going to get married barefoot so at least I got to go to my reception that way. I can remember my god-daughters Tai and Kaya picking up the flower petals from the aisle and Mary Catherine telling them to put them back, puzzled when they didn't respond because she didn't know they were deaf. I remember my cousin Sandy telling Simon that if he hurt me Sandy would come after him. I remember Brian and Courtney's Finn being recommended to a 12-step program for cheese after being caught a few times too many at the cheese plate. I remember laughing and family, and just generally being overjoyed. That doesn't happen much in my life, so when it does I hang on to the memory with all ferocity.

Three years and his smile can still stop me in my tracks...and make me smile right back. Happy Anniversary, Sweetie. Here's to a thousand more.

So Long, Twenty Elebben!

2012-01-01T05:40:00.000-05:00

We're in the UK again...I thought that Simon and I would be watching the ball drop this year rather than the London Fireworks...but alas...truth be told, we didn't even remember to watch these live because we were so caught up in watching Jools Holland. I have to say, this is a display that, at the chiming of the hour, would make Guy Fawkes proud. Happy New Year, Lettuce Readers. Here's to the end of an awful 2011 and a brilliant 2012 to come!

Holiday Greetings and A Countdown, from the Lettuce

2011-12-24T09:18:00.001-05:00

Christmas 2010, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

In just under 12 hours I will be on my way to my other home, England.

In just under 24 hours I will be in our little house in Keighley, with Simon and Daisy.

It is strange to be leaving on Christmas Eve, when everything in my life has been leading up to today here at Allen Mountain. It is even stranger to think that by this time on Boxing Day my sister and her family will be in the UK as well, and only a few hours down the road.

Happy Christmas to all my Lettuce readers, and a prosperous New Year as well. 2012 is going to bring so much hope and joy and happiness to all our lives...I just know it. Keep warm and safe and happy, y'all.

xx
Nancy

On Families, Ramps, Sprouts and Sock Puppies...

2011-12-19T00:54:00.001-05:00

Blackberry Wallpaper, December 2011, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

This weekend was the annual Christmas gathering of my mother's side of the family. In fact, they get together four times a year, but the Christmas gathering has been special in my mind since I was a child. While it was always good to see my extended family, it was especially good to see my cousins...specifically my cousin Sandy. He is about 11 years older than I am, and is the youngest of the cousins on that side of the family.

My sister and I have always been in between our cousins and first cousins in age. Susan is closer to our first cousins in age, especially on my father's side of the family, but I'm sort of out on my own. I was too little to hang with my teenage cousins, and by the time they had kids I was too big to do anything but babysit those kids. But Sandy always treated me like an equal, and as a result was one of my favourite family members.

I remember once he came to visit me at Young Harris College. We hung out and talked and then later he sent me a cassette tape recording of a song he'd written for me, inspired by that afternoon. I mean who wouldn't be totally chuffed to have a cousin like that?

Sandy has a physically debilitating condition that lately has caused him to use a wheelchair, and as a result wasn't going to be able to come to the family gathering this Christmas because there is no way into Mom and Dad's house that doesn't involve steps. Mom and Dad started calling around and found a place that would build them a ramp, free of charge, for Sandy to use to come in the house. Dad and I put it together and got it all strapped in and sturdy, and Sandy got to join the rest of us for Christmas.

Of course, in typical Nancy style, as he rolled into the kitchen grinning ear to ear I said "Oh, did the ramp work?" Um, duh. He's IN THE KITCHEN, dummy.

I sort of feel a sense of let down now that this event is over because for the past week I've been eating, sleeping, and breathing McDonald Family Christmas, trying to help Mom and Dad get ready for Saturday. I ordered my presents early so that I could concentrate on this and on getting ready to go see Simon (a week from right now I'll be there...), and two of them, both from Barnes & Noble, gave me fits trying to get sorted. Mom's gift was reported as on back order and I was given the option to cancel it. I did, and then got an email that it couldn't be canceled because it was on the way. Mind you, between canceling and receiving the email, I went out and bought another one. Grr.

The last straw was Joy's present. I had ordered the most perfect neck pillow for her to use on their impending trip to the UK after Christmas. It was a tiger, and was pink and purple and had a big, cartoony face, and, as you will remember, was perfect. In the mail I got an ugly yellow tiger that wasn't even remotely like the one I ordered. So on Friday night, Dad and I went out to find something else for Joy. The look on her face the next day when she saw what would come to be named "Sock Puppy" was worth all the angst over the neck pillow gone wrong (as was her reaction to her Dora Umbrella and matching pink neck pillow from Auntsie and Uncle Simon).

One tiny note: I made roasted sprouts and bubble & squeak for my family to try as representatives of British cooking, thinking that I'd be eating all of it and honestly being pretty pleased to do so. It isn't easy being a vegetarian during holidays that revolve around food. To my surprise, by the time that I got to the food, a great deal of the sprouts and potato cakes were already gone and there was nothing left of them at the end of the meal. They liked it! Next Christmas I hope that Simon will be here to cook his own British food for them.

So one Christmas down...and one very, very important Christmas Day with my very, very perfect husband to go. Happy Yule, y'all. Happy Yule.

Oh Christmas Tree...and other traditions

2011-12-09T21:13:00.001-05:00

Sparkly!!

All my anti-holiday sentiment seems to have reversed itself in a fiery blaze of lights and stockings and tinsel and I'm all about Christmas now! Amazing what one most-certainly overpriced plane ticket will do for one's outlook, isn't it?

I'm noticing the Christmas decorations in the stores. I even purposefully turned the radio to one of those stations that thinks it's a good idea to play Christmas music 24-7 from Thanksgiving till New Years. I'm not sure what's happened, but this Grinch's heart has grown more than two sizes in the past week.

I was thinking today about my favourite Christmas traditions, and realised that other than some that revolved around going to church on Christmas eve my family doesn't really have anything that we all do year after year at Christmas. That made me a bit sad, but at the same time I think about how that give me and Simon a chance to create our own traditions and that, as my friend Lynne would say, makes me wickedly, wickedly happy. I feel like so much of our married life has been...up in the air, I guess? We haven't settled into "Our First Married Home" because we were trying to sell it. We didn't know where we were going to end up, so I think we've sort of put the memory making part of being newlyweds on hold. That includes Christmas traditions. We eat our own little Christmas dinner for two, watch Christmas telly, and generally act like slugs all the way from the Queen's speech to Doctor Who.

What are your family traditions? What do you do every year without fail? What makes Christmas feel like Christmas to you? Mine will start with seeing my Mister's face on Christmas Day. Happy Two Weeks till Christmas Eve, y'all!

Because I love Target AND Nutcracker Dolls...

2011-12-08T12:28:00.000-05:00

How did I forget this?

2011-12-02T12:35:00.001-05:00

Yep, that's right.

I finished/won another NaNoWriMo novel on Wednesday afternoon. The final word count was 50,514 and with a bit of editing I think it will be the beginning of something I might just consider submitting for proper publishing. Or it might end up on Lulu. Or, it might end up on my hard drive with all the others, awaiting the light of day.

Anyway, if you've seen my entry for "Novel Info" on my NaNo page (which means you're quite the little stalker, aren't you? Well done.) then you can just forget all of that. Legacy (working title, really, I think it is tripe but...) turned out to be something else altogether from the novel I started. Stay tuned.

And once again, my universe rights itself...

2011-12-02T12:34:00.001-05:00

Smooth Sailing, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

I worked a LOT in November. A LOT. Many, many hours. As a result...

I'M GOING TO KEIGHLEY FOR CHRISTMAS!!

I'm sort of chuffed, in case you couldn't tell? All of my angst and depression goes away when I think that I'll be with my Mister (and my MeiMei) in just about 22 days. Ho Ho Ho Happy Christmas to me!

Mind you, the flight could have been cheaper, but it wasn't to be...nor did it matter. See above working a LOT in November. See me grinning like an idiot.

Yeah, so, that's good news. Yeah. Apologies for the Nancy you've come to hate over the past few months. She's MUCH better now.

What happens when you let things go out of focus...

2011-11-28T18:28:00.001-05:00

reflected in water...colour..., a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

This picture happens, and you suddenly realise that you have more than 5k words left on your NaNoWriMo to win, it is 2 days to the end of the month, and last year you finished ON THE 25TH. See you guys on the other side of 50k!!

See ya later, autumn...roll on January.

2011-11-25T16:20:00.001-05:00

Gradient, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

Well, that's one down, five to go in the 2011-2012 Anti-Holiday season. Thanksgiving 2011 is in the history books now.

Oh, sorry Lettuce readers, I guess you didn't get the memo because I've been trying to be a bit more positive around here...I suppose the end result is that I haven't been posting much at all and that's why you may not have known about the Anti Holiday Proclamation of 2011.

Let me recap: There will be no holidays recognized until I'm in the same country with my husband. I'm not out to tell anyone how to behave in their own homes, mind. If you want to celebrate then I hope you have all the blessings and happiness the season can bestow. But as for me and my house, we will pass, thanks.

I've been told on loads of occasions and by scores of people that I need to get over it. Simon will be here soon enough. We can celebrate everything that we've missed once Simon has moved. Um, no thanks. I'd rather just skip it and try again next year.

And no, for those who have hinted both subtly and otherwise, it has nothing to do with the fact that I'll be 40 years old in a day and half. Nothing at all. It has everything to do with the thing I love the most being four thousand miles away.

So that's what's up at the Lettuce...basically a whole lot of purposeful nothing, until our birthdays, Christmas, New Year and our 3rd wedding anniversary are over. If that's difficult for you to accept, and you feel the need to try to convince me otherwise, can I please invite you to focus on your own holiday season? I promise, I'll be just fine here when you get back in January. Just. Fine.

It's more exciting than all that, honest!

2011-11-08T13:25:00.001-05:00

Snores of a Clown, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

Well, the 2011 CRF season has almost come to an end. We have two more weekends to go, and I have a day and a half left to work.

Speaking of, if you're in the area before about 1pm on Sunday, 13 November or any time on Saturday, 19 November come see me and Clown in the doghouse! And while you're at it, you can follow us on Twitter, like our page on FB using the box on the right hand side (make sure you're following the official HOEF page for the most up to date info), and join our FB group.

Right, shameless promotion done. This season has been so much better than I think any of us could have imagined back at the beginning of October. Just before the season started (and I do mean JUST BEFORE, like A WEEK BEFORE) we had a major change up of leadership and basically how we operate as a group. Rather than one director as has been the way in the past, we now have an advisory board made up of one member from each adoption group that is represented. So much more democratic as well as taking the burden off just one person.

Sadly, in the change up we did lose some members but we have gained about seven new members in the process. Almost every day we've been at CRF this season the dog house has been full to overflowing with dogs! We've had such a good time. The atmosphere is relaxed and fun again like it was in the early days when we had nothing but a tiny wet tent and a few hay bales on which to sit. It's been a good thing overall, and will ensure the continued success of the group and the growth of membership. Win-Win!

As you can see, my new boy Clown has taken to life at the festival like he's always been there...I think he might be channeling a bit of Hunky there as well.

So Huzzah and Well Met! Two more weekends and then we're planning for GARF in the spring!

Yep, I'm up to my old tricks...

2011-11-03T21:20:00.002-04:00

See you on the other side of 50,000 words.

Night, night, Little Man.

2011-10-30T09:09:00.001-04:00

Mills!, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

"And when the stars fall
I will lie awake
You're my shooting star. "
-Michelle Branch

Mills Dunne
31 May 1998-30 October 2011

A new day, another template...

2011-10-19T06:14:00.001-04:00

I love orange., a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

I was telling my fabulous friend Goddess Lynne (who writes the marvelous blog, The Way of the Moth) that I'd looked over my blog with its new template and decided that it was screaming SPRING at me. In fact, that's not what it was screaming at all, but instead it was yelling at me FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY COULD YOU HAVE PICKED A MORE GIRLY TEMPLATE? I HAVE A REP TO PROTECT, YOU KNOW. So, because I do not appreciate being yelled at in that manner, I found a new template. Autumnal. Ridiculous. GIRLY. That'll show...uh...did I just admit to having a conversation with my blog?

Anyway! I'll try this one on for size. I promise, too, that there will soon be a write up and pictures of our first weekend and kids day at the Carolina Renaissance Festival. I just haven't gotten my head wrapped around it enough to write about it due to all the other stuff floating around in there at the moment. And the YELLING FROM THE BLOG. Did I mention the yelling? In the meantime, though, please feel free to join our new facebook group for the Hounds of East Fairhaven if you have a facebook account. You might also visit Goddess Lynne's blog and check out her fab poem, "Autoharp." Genuine genius, that. Talented friends, I have. Talk like Yoda today, I might!

On second thought, just go join the group and read the poem. Ta, y'all.

Changing Templates...again...

2011-10-17T21:59:00.001-04:00

pretending to be audrey hepburn NYC 1997, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

So I typed out a fabulously pithy post this morning about changing templates here at the Lettuce and in my own life, and, as is the way with marvelous prose that I've created, the Universe ate it. I think it might have belched afterward and asked for a mint.

The gist was that I've been thinking a lot about changing the template, if you will, of my life and starting with something new that looks and feels different, and this morning I was totally on board with that idea. By tonight, though, after loads of fighting with Flickr and Blogger and my own Old Lady Brain, I'm thinking maybe familiar is best. Give me a few days, I will have changed templates a dozen times.

The picture over there was taken at Tiffany's in NYC on my Spring Break trip in 1997. I was still single, still in love with Audrey Hepburn and acting and the theatre. I had been to the UK for six weeks two years prior and it had changed my life. I didn't have any greyhounds or an English husband or an ex-husband or any of that. I was just me, that version of me...that template.

Is there a limit on how many times you can change a template out? Hope not.

Forward Motion...

2011-10-06T10:24:00.001-04:00

Clown Reaches the Beach
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

So if you care to find me...look to the Western sky...as someone told me lately: "Everyone deserves a chance to fly..."

(lyrics from "Defying Gravity" from the musical "WICKED." Or from Glee. Take your pick.)

Well, I can't say too much, loyal Lettuce-Heads, because what you put out on the "tinterweb" is permanent and forever, but my situation is in a bit of flux at the moment.

I know! Again! Right?

Changes are afoot, and my situation has gone from semi-almost-stable to completely on the other foot in a matter of a week. But never fear, I think the impending change is a good one, and I'm crossing everything I can that all turns out as it should.

Confused? Yeah, me too. But I find that when things get weird, I can just look at that beautiful boy in the photo there and things will get all right-ish riteawayquik. Well, for now I'm just looking at a photo of him, but tomorrow night I'll get to start a whole weekend of Clown Goodness, and that's definitely got me smiling.

Don't worry, those five or six of you that are now on tenterhooks to know what the change is and what is coming up next for those of us here at the Lettuce. Your wait will not be long nor in vain. In the meantime, though, here's something to bounce around and label me insane for: Next month is a new Nanowrimo, and I'm itching to get started!

Catch you guys after the CRF opening weekend...come see us if you're in the area!

On nomadic life...and happy surprises

2011-09-07T09:59:00.001-04:00

The haul, ready to head back home
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I've been very fussy lately. Yeah, those of you that know me, way more than normal. Can you believe it? Aren't you glad you're not exposed to it daily? I think that I've pinpointed why...I am not meant to live like a nomad.

Granted, I have a fantastic set of parents that have let me all but take over the back part of their house. My things are all over one of the bedrooms. There are enough renaissance festival gowns hanging in the "big room" to make Elizabeth I's closet cry out in jealousy and shame. But it isn't MY space.

I have fabulous friends that let me stay over at their houses when I need to travel for work. I have an absolute SAINT who is keeping our new greyhound, Clown, until I have a permanent place to go that allows dogs. But that isn't my space.

I had an almost breakdown Monday night at the prospect of more traveling. This week it is particularly busy because I'm working two days in Greenville and interviewing for a full time job in Charleston in between. But I slept on it, packed my bag, and headed north on autopilot...

...and it's all fine. Jobs in Greenville sorted. Interview to prepare for but really...I am what I am and this is the third one so...? Good tunes and a good car to drive down to the beach.

Life at the beach could be incredible. What's the happy surprise then? That I'm still hanging on and in...that I've been living from a suitcase since May and I'm getting to be okay with it...and that the trousers I bought yesterday were too big. Happy surprises, all of them. Here's to having another happy surprise after that interview tomorrow...

Things I Have Learned This Holiday...

2011-09-01T07:08:00.001-04:00

An American Greyhound in Yorkshire
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

1. It IS possible to do two consecutive NaNoWriMo events, win them both, and not lose your mind. The quality of the product remains to be judged, however. (Proud Racer: An American Greyhound in Yorkshire is due out this month!!!)

2. I'm not entirely sure that Delta knows the difference between vegetarian and vegan. I'm also not sure that I know the difference between vegetarian and Doesn't Eat Meat.

3. The exit row is only good if you've got the aisle seat OR an extra layer of whale-like blubber to insulate you from the COLD exit row door.

4 .I could win a gold medal if whinging was an Olympic sport.

5. I love the UK but I do not love where we lived in Keighley. My homesickness for the UK is genuine. I love the culture (for the most part, yobs and chavs not included) and the history and the people (see above yob/chav disclaimer) but I let the negative aspects of my immediate situation ruin a fantastic growth opportunity.

6. I have good friends that I love dearly in the US and the UK.

7. If you look crazy/jet-lagged enough, the BILO employees will let you use that store's Bonuscard account at the till.

8. It will not kill you to listen to the same two songs on repeat as you are stuck in traffic just outside of Charlotte.

9. The staff at Manchester Airport are the nicest airport staff I've ever dealt with, bar none.

10. I don't care where I end up living, as long as Simon and my animals are within arm's reach.

(PS-Hello, Jet Lag. Don't make yourself too comfortable, I'd like you gone as soon as possible.)

Excerpt from the latest Proud Racer Novel, in progress...

2011-08-19T15:09:00.002-04:00

Saltaire to Bingley and the Missing Train Station

“Where can we go today, Mommy?” Daisy asked as she danced around Mommy’s feet while Mommy made cups of tea for herself and for Daddy. “Daddy said walk, where can we go walk?”

“Hey, why don’t we go to Saltaire on the train and then walk the canal back to Bingley? We can get the train home from there,” Daddy said. Mommy grinned and nodded. “Daisy, do you want to go walk along the canal?” he asked. Daisy play-bowed and danced around the kitchen. “I guess that’s a yes?” Daddy said, laughing.

“Yes! YES YES YES!” Daisy yipped, making Mommy laugh. A walk down the canal! Daisy didn’t know what a canal was but it was bound to be exciting. She thought she had been before but wasn’t sure. Soon Mommy and Daddy had sorted out Daisy’s collar and leash and they were heading down to the train station. It wasn’t raining so Mommy and Daddy decided to walk. Daisy wasn’t always thrilled with the walk down to the train because there wasn’t a lot of grass for her to walk on or sniff, and there were lots of cars.

As they turned the corner from South Street onto East Parade, Daisy caught sight of herself in the window of the Aladdin Castle indoor playland. Next to her image she saw five other dogs, all transparent and sort of jumbled on top of each other. One of them lifted his big ears and looked around at Daisy in the window. She grinned. “Hey Hunky,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here.” Hunky’s image grinned back at her and then promptly ran into Profile’s image, bumping him into Bo’s. Jeany’s image giggled as Lizzard nipped at each of the boys before they started growling at each other.

“Don’t be afraid of the cars, Daisy,” Jeany’s image said. “We’re right here with you, and Mommy and Daddy-Simon are too.” Daisy grinned and bumped Mommy’s leg with her head. Mommy ran her hand over Daisy’s head, grinning along with her.

Happy Birthday to my Favorite Girl

2011-08-12T07:54:00.002-04:00

Pretty Daisy
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Seven years ago today, I was huddled around a computer with loads of other people "watching" as a litter of greyhound puppies were being born. It was suggested that, since the litter was an "oops" one (not a planned breeding) the first girl be named Oopsie Daisy.

Those seven years have been amazing. I have watched that tiny puppy grow into an amazingly beautiful dog, with a personality that you can't help adoring. She is my angel, my PPG (psycho puppy girl), my sweet Mei-Mei (precious little girl in Firefly-Chinese).

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl. I'll see you on Tuesday! (insert me dancing like a mad fool here) And happy birthday to the other Leelo Babies: Hallie Jalapeno, Sophie Angel Sox, Casey, Dodger, Windy Bear and Bonnie Boo. I for one am overjoyed and thankful that all of you were born...but especially my Mei-Mei.

(Special tip of the hat to Adam whom I'm sure is watching from up there and swearing that their birthday isn't until the 14th...Cheers, Adam!)

For Leah and Cathie, I present my Blog Face

2011-08-11T22:27:00.001-04:00

Question of the Day
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

(AKA "Nancy's got on her I Am So Blogging About This! face...)

So y'all know what I do for a living, right? What you may not know is that there is a certain amount of OTT confidentiality involved in what I do...to the point that some interpreters will not tell their spouses where they will be working during the day, etc. I'm not quite to that point, but you'll excuse me if I am a bit vague in this post. But it just HAD to be blogged...

So I was working at Somewhere today with Someone Who Is Deaf and some other Someones Who Are Hearing, right? One of the Someones Who Are Hearing (I'm gonna get SO tired of typing that before this is done) reached over suddenly and picked a small insect off the shirt of Someone Who Is Deaf, making the excuse that it might bite that Someone Who Is Deaf.

In the chaos that followed, the cutest little green-backed beetle-bug ended up crawling on my knee. Now, if you're an interpreting student, I want you to promise me that you will never do what I did next. If you're from RID, I want you to stop reading now. Seriously.

Anyway, Beetle-Bug on my knee...right. After making sure that Someone Who Is Deaf was okay with it, I put my fingers close to Mr. BB to see if he would crawl up onto it with a view to flinging him to the far side of the room, away from Someone Who Is Hearing who was rapidly turning into Someone Who Would Soon Be Hyperventilating at the sight of Mr. BB. As bugs tend to be, this one was just contrary enough to NOT want to climb up onto my finger. The Someone Who Was Hearing on the other side of me offered, "Would you like me to get it?"

What does that mean to you? To me, it meant do the same thing I was trying to do but successfully, using the yellow legal pad that Someone had in his/her hand. I think you can probably see where this story is going now, can't you?

Other Someone Who Is Hearing smacked the living daylights (not to mention the stuffing) out of my knee and poor Mr. Beetle-Bug. I still have the residue on my trousers to prove it. Before I caught myself, I said (and signed) "Well, that's not at all what I thought you were going to do!"

I mean seriously!! Who smushes a cute little Beetle-Bug? Poor thing never had a chance...and now I have Beetle Bug on my good work trousers.

Okay, for the last time...

2011-08-08T17:33:00.001-04:00

Uh, clearly I need coffee. NOW!!
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

1. I've started calling it a lift. Deal with it.

2. I'm going to use British words sometimes instead of American ones. If you understand what I said, why do you feel the need to correct me? It really makes NO sense.

3. I just spent two years of my life over there. Some things are going to rub off. They may or may not go away after I've been here awhile.

4. Just so you know, laughing at how Simon pronounces things, unless you're me and allowed (because he can laugh at my pronunciation) is rude. End of. Yes, I realise it's a double-standard. I don't care.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled mocking. (It's been one of those days...)

Just over a week...

2011-08-06T10:15:00.002-04:00

Daisy with...
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I've got just over a week now to make some super progress on the current WIP because other than the amount of time before the battery dies on the plane, I don't know how much writing will get done in the first few days I'm there. I'm betting on none.

I've got just over a week to work as much as I can, but with my niece coming to stay here on Allen Mountain that won't be much, I'm afraid. Three gigs so far, but that may have to be it.

I've got just over a week to get some stock ordered to take with me to Beach Bound Hounds in September so that I can sign some books and get My Pack's stories out to those who never got to meet the original Fab Five (with apologies to my EQ friends, I'm stealing that b/c my first pack WAS fabulous) and who haven't had a chance to meet Psycho Puppy Girl because she's been overseas. I'm still confident that the WIP will have become Proud Racer: An American Greyhound in Yorkshire by BBH and will be ready to sign and sell as well.

But best of all...

Just over a week from now I will be snuggling up to that face and smooching that noggin...well, when I've pried myself loose from Hubs and stopped putting my face in Mills's fur, that is. I've not packed a thing, in fact I'm still not sure which bag I'm taking or what will go in it...but I'm counting down the days!

New Month, New Camp NaNoWriMo

2011-08-01T16:03:00.001-04:00

End of RID IKEA run
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I know, I just won, I should still be basking, right? NOT. Have you met me? Insanity, thy name is Nancy.

This month's WIP (that's Work In Progress, see, I do pay attention sometimes Dr. Tom!) is a little diddy I like to call "Proud Racer: An American Greyhound in Yorkshire" and it's Daisy's recounting of her two years in Keighley...well, sort of, it's really her take on the times that she got to GO on the TRAIN for a WALK somewhere. She's a well traveled girl though...and hopefully there will be room in the back for pictures of her adventures. The title may change...Daisy's Adventures in Yorkshire doesn't grab me and OI! was too short, though I'm sure that's the word she's heard most often over there.

Right, so I'm blogging about writing while not writing...but I've hit my goal for the day and everything else I write (over there, not here) is just gravy. Fingers crossed I can get this one done and dusted and off to Lulu for publishing prior to Beach Bound Hounds next month.

NEXT MONTH! Good Lord. I'm gonna need a lot of Crystal Light and Goldfish crackers.

And then there were crickets...

2011-07-30T01:37:00.002-04:00

I just finished my July Camp Nanowrimo novel. Just now, at 0133 on July 30th, one full day ahead of schedule. Now I have all of tomorrow and Sunday to plan my August Camp Nanowrimo novel. If you're sitting there thinking that I've gone completely insane, you're right. I think I have. If you'd like an ARC of the drivel that just about crippled my fingers for the past 30 days, shoot me an email. The only rule is that you can't laugh...at least not where I can hear you.

Man. How appropriate that I'm doing a camp-themed Wrimo here on Allen Mountain, with the crickets loud just outside the window? I may have to build a campfire to get through August's challenge...but for now, if you need me, I'll be basking for a bit. Night, y'all!

RID 2011, or Of Lifts, Binoculars, and Smashed Toenails

2011-07-23T21:51:00.001-04:00

Hello from MARTA...cause it's SMARTA...
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Yeah, that picture was taken on the way down to RID on Monday. I was happy then and had loads of energy...and great hair. Isn't that great hair?

This past week I attended the RID conference in Atlanta, Georgia. For the first time I drove down to a MARTA station and rode the train down to the hotel rather than flying to the conference. The hotel was fabulous, the company was outstanding, and I got loads of CEUs toward my current CMP cycle (which ends in December, YIKES).

The fabulousness of the hotel was only mitigated slightly by the system of elevators there. Gorgeous though they were, they were glass and went very fast and I was staying on the 27th floor out of 47. Whoosh!

At one point, Lynne (Prevail, Goddess!) and I went all the way up to the top to check out the view. It was particularly woozy for me, and I had the oddest urge to drop my Blackberry over the edge. I didn't, though, and we called the elevator to head back down. Stepped inside, Lynne positioned herself on the floor to look out, and I hit the button for the lobby. I had heard that if you hold down the close door button, the elevator wouldn't stop at every floor but would go straight to the one you'd selected. Doors shut and I held down the close door button.

The elevator went about a foot downward and STOPPED. Yep, you read that right, it lurched to a stop. Between the 47th and 46th floors. I think I might have had a minor panic attack. Meanwhile, Lynne, who never backs down from a challenge, was sitting on the floor cross-legged giggling like a demented hippie as I stared at the buttons, willing the elevator to start moving...but not to plummet to the bottom, mind you.

We ended up on the lobby floor in a few minutes when it started up again. I still don't think my heart rate has gone back to normal.

That afternoon, during one of the workshops, Lynne and I were seated near the back and were having a hard time reading the Power Point on the screen at the front of the room. I turned to Lynne to sign "Can you see that?" and found that she'd pulled some binoculars out of her bag and was reading the screen! I have a lot of fabulous friends, something I found out in spades this week.

The ride home was NOT so pleasant. It took two days, for one thing, because I stopped over at my sister's in Atlanta for the night. That wasn't the bad part though. Today, on my way back to collect my car, my fabulous week fell apart in a splash of pain and hot weather and colour.

Susan and I headed out to go to the MARTA station and I was dragging my FAR TOO HEAVY suitcase out to her car. I somehow dragged it over my left foot, starting at the big toe and working backward. There was no swearing, but I did hop around and let out a Holy Heavenly Hannah! just before my toe started bleeding. We went back in and washed it off, then a neosporin and a plaster later and I was headed north...well, actually I was headed west toward Five Points station to change trains to go north.

Problem was, the northbound train I needed didn't stop at Five Points but rather stopped at Lindbergh, a few stops on up the north line. I should have gotten the train that was on the platform when I got there, but I didn't know that. So a quarter of an hour later I got on a train north, then got off at Lindbergh and hobbled across the platform and back, then caught the right train north to where my car was waiting.

Easy sailing, right? No. Tried to leave the deck, and it said my ticket was invalid. WHAT? Back up to the cashier, paid the fee and got a new ticket that let me out of the deck and got me on my way up here to Mom and Dad's where I'm staying till Simon gets here.

In a way, I can't believe that RID has come and gone already. At the same time, though, especially when you factor in the issues I had getting home today, it seemed like I was gone for a long, long, time.

Onward and upward now...only about two and a half weeks until I fly to the UK and see Simon for two weeks. Might actually rearrange my suitcase before then. For now, though, I'm going to rest up and hopefully catch up on my NaNoWriMo...

Well, there's always fish...

2011-07-13T00:03:00.001-04:00

Fruit and Veg box
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

So I decided to try again something that I tried when I was younger and less prepared. One summer when I was working at Camp, I decided to become a vegetarian. I don't know why I did it, but if I look back on other things I did at the same time I would guess it was because it would help me lose weight. It was an experiment at best, that left me eating loads and loads of salad greens and McDonald's french fries (on Friday nights, when we'd go into town from camp after the kids left). The end of that experiment was an unplanned trip to the infirmary at Camp after I nearly fainted from a combination of poor nutrition and living in the Georgia heat with no A/C.

Since that failed attempt I've looked with envy at those able to live a vegetarian lifestyle. I don't believe that I will ever make it to a purely vegetarian lifestyle and I am pretty sure that I am not meant to be vegan. However, I do know that when I don't eat meat I feel better, physically. So what pushed me over the edge this time?

For awhile, I have been fighting the feeling that there was something not right in the way that the animals that I've been consuming for most of my life are raised, treated, and processed into the food on my table. Something not right in my opinion, mind you. I would never EVER try to make someone else believe the way I do. If eating meat is okay with you, then that's great, I'm happy for you. It just isn't okay for me anymore.

To throw a slightly hypocritical spanner in the works, I'm not planning to give up fish at this point. I know that there are loads of awful things that happen to fish, and that's why I'm admitting it is hypocritical...I can't quite bring myself to give up sushi. I know there are veg options in sushi but I've only just discovered the heaven that is yellowtail tuna. Mercy.

Anyway, back to the hypothetical straw and camel: I've had the misfortune of riding behind some chicken trucks in my life, and every time it almost reduces me to tears. I saw an awful segment on the local news the other night where a farmer was talking about how you could buy a whole cow from him, you and your buddies, and they'd process the cow...as they were standing in the field with said cows milling around behind them! "You'll get good steaks and two sets of ribs..." It was horrifying to me. But the last straw was the wild turkey and babies that walked across the back yard up here on Allen Mountain the other day. I watched Mama Turkey checking the bushes before she let her babies follow her into the brush. The argument that turkeys (or chickens or cows) are dumb and that's why it's okay to eat them doesn't matter to me. It's a non-argument. Why do we eat some animals and not others? It was then and there that I decided I had to make a change.

I don't and won't begrudge my dog or my cat eating meat. Dogs can't live as vegetarians without a lot of extra work and care. Cats are carnivores. The way I'm looking at this is that my opposition to eating meat is because I have such a strong reverence for nature. I hope that everyone can support me in this decision, and that this time I can make some healthy choices as far as my food goes.

Sleeping bag? Check. Bug Spray? Check. Word Processor? Check!

2011-07-07T17:58:00.001-04:00

Yep, I'm at it again. I've shuffled off to Camp NaNoWriMo for July and August, with a hopeful goal of 100K written at the end of both months. So far (as of today) I'm about 300 words ahead of my target for the day, so I'm feeling pretty good, pretty inspired.

I know, you're horribly bored, but stick with me. It gets better.

The project for July is a YA novel called Mirror, Mirror. It is about faeries and Wales and all things good/evil twin, and I hope it will come out at the end of the month as more than just a bunch of bad Google Translate. Here's the working synopsis from the Camp website:

"Elisa has always been different. Ever since her twin sister Emma went missing when the girls were just 8, her life has been upside down. The loss of her twin followed by her parents' double suicide left her alone and in foster care until Gwen Morgan adopted her and took her to Wales to start a new life. But can she ever escape the life she left behind? The truth behind her sister's disappearance will lead her into a world even stranger and more deadly than she could have imagined."

I promise you loads of teen angst, unrequited love, and snappy puns to keep you entertained. What could be better? I'm thinking August's work will be a ghost story of some sort, but I'm not sure what yet. Following on the camp theme, I'm trying to remember all the awesome campfire ghost stories from my youth...maybe one of them will be the star in August!

And yes, for those still asking...I am insane. Thanks for your support. Wrimos, ho!

There and Back again...and again...

2011-07-06T19:55:00.001-04:00

The Dunnes
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Well, it has been two weeks shy of two months since I've seen that handsome devil in the picture with me (taken in May 2010 in York). I was losing hope that I'd see him before Christmas. I was losing my mind. I was losing my grip on politeness and definitely losing my composure.

Today we found a cheap flight...and now my world has righted a bit. I will be back in the UK to visit from 16-31 August. Back with no car. Back on the buses and trains and in taxis. Back at Sainsbury's and ASDA and eating at Nando's. Back right next to Mr. Dunne, and you'll be hard pressed to pull me away from him, at least not for very long.

I can't wait. I can't wait for the English voices on the tannoy. I can't wait for Daisy to be curled up on me on the sofa and Mills to be purring in my hair as I go to sleep at night. My family is the most important thing to me in the world, and I can't wait for all of us to be on the same continent, even if it is only for two weeks.

Roll on August!

Reverse Homesickness on Allen Mountain

2011-06-26T22:59:00.001-04:00

Daisy at Bolton Abbey
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

So it's been just over a month since I left my husband and critters and returned to the US, and I'd love to tell you that the weird reverse homesickness is gone and life is better than ever.

I'd love to tell you that, but I'd be lying.

For the most part, all of the sensory overload that IS life in America has died down to an acceptable level. I've had loads of freelance work, I've gotten a fabulous new (to me) car, and we've learned that the embassy is now processing petitions for immigrant visas filed just 30 short days prior to when ours was filed.

But there are still moments so awful, so loud, so unbearable that I find myself running into the virtual arms of online travel agencies, desperately searching for a flight to Manchester that I can afford.

While I'm on that topic, if anyone wants to loan me the dosh for a ticket, I wouldn't turn it down. Moving on...

I've had to make some big decisions this weekend about what path my life (and Simon's, bless him) is going to take here in the US, and I'm not sure that I've gotten it right but I think I'm at least facing the right way.

I do, however, desperately miss that little face in the picture up there. I went looking for her a brother this weekend, and thought I'd found the perfect dog, but on careful consideration (and once I'd gotten away from those big brown eyes) I'm not sure he's a good fit for my family, at least not while 3/4 of it is 4000 miles away.

So that's where we are so far. I'm here, I'm desperate to see my husband and critters, and I'm taking it one step at a time. How disturbingly grown up of me. When did THAT happen?

On Coming Home...Again

2011-05-21T20:41:00.002-04:00

love
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I've been thinking (since before I even left the UK) about what I wanted to say here at the Lettuce about my latest adventure: re-patting. For two years the handful of you that read the Lettuce have been subjected to my homesickness, my struggles, my challenges and my sorrows as well as my triumphs and successes living as an expat in the UK. You've sent me messages of encouragement and sometimes of envy, and for those little moments when I felt not quite so far away, I'm grateful.

I was hoping that the moment would arrive, inspiration would strike, and I could write an outstanding final chapter to the expat part of my life that would be worthy of all of you that shared it with me. Well, if you know me, you know my tendency to Griswald everything in my life. Really, the moose out front should have told you.

So what we're left with is this: I don't know how I feel about being here, now. So I'll start this dialogue by sharing with you the events of the past two days...amazing to think that just 72 hours ago I was in Keighley, and now I'm here.

Thursday morning came far too early. I don't think I really slept Wednesday night because I wanted to remember every single thing about sleeping in that room, next to my incredible husband, with my precious princess Daisy on her bed by the window and my little hearthrob Mills curled up and purring in my hair. The alarm sounded at 4am and I was up and heading towards a new start in an old country.

Everything about Thursday morning was unremarkable, and that was just as I needed it to be. Even the taxi driver who turned up 20 minutes late got us to the train station in time for the 0601 train. We made it to Leeds, and then to Manchester Airport. We had coffee and then I left Simon to head to my plane.

Yeah, so it wasn't quite that easy. There were lots of tears and begging to stay and bargaining to move to Canada together between the alarm and the full body scan. Anyway...

The plane was full to the gills, and I was lucky enough to sit in front of a small boy who is destined to be a striker for a Premiership team one day. Two Angelina movies, a Dawn Treader and something else I couldn't be asked to watch, the end of a Percy Jackson and the beginning of a Harper Connelly, and I was on the ground in Atlanta. No lines at security, my bags arrived safe and sound, and I was whisked off to my sister's house for the evening.

Have I mentioned how much I adore my niece Joy, how much of a superstar she is? Even when she's slapping me in the nose with my own sunglasses, the urge to tuck her under my arm and make a run for it is strong. What a special, incredible, unique soul she is. Anyway, moving on...

Friday we visited the town home that my sister and her family will hopefully be moving into soon and then headed north to where I am now, with my parents. All of this seemed no different than any other time I've come home on holiday, and I was feeling quite proud of myself for manning up and getting on with things as far as moving back home goes.

You know what I did, don't you? I "Days of Our Lives Jinxed" myself. On Days, when a character makes a proclamation of all clear, such as "nothing will ever tear us apart again," the third member of their love triangle will immediately arrive in town. I felt like I had a handle on the re-patting, and the universe decided to tell me otherwise.

It was so simple: go to Walmart on the way into town, pick up some face wipes and a toothbrush. I'd been to that Walmart before and even knew where everything was. Easy peasy.

Not.

I can't really describe what it was like to stand in front of a section of that store, staring at the shelves full of sixty-eleven different kinds of mouthwash, staring intently in the hope that the one you recognise will magically appear on the shelf. I gave up and moved on to the face wipes. Were there really that many brands two years ago when I left? Were any of them the same as the Boots own that I've been using for what seemed like forever? I finally grabbed a green packet of face wipes, LITERALLY because it was green and my Boots ones are green, and tried to find the sugar section so I could get my Splenda.

I'd like to say that I was just a little turned around, but at that point I was totally lost. I stood in the middle of the Walmart and fought back big tears. I found the Splenda. I gave it and the wipes and a grapefruit for the next day's breakfast to my mom, and fled the store to find my mobile, call Simon, and just feel a little normal again.

I've recovered from that shock to the system, but I'm sure there are more to come. My America doesn't exist any more. The me that lived here for the first 37 years of her life has gone into hiding. The me that is here now wants this to be home, but it isn't. Wasn't that the whole point of moving back?

I just hope that those of you that know me in person and not just through the tinterweb (that was for you, Liz) will forgive me wincing when a car zips past on the left, or my looking for loos and lifts, and you'll love the new me as much as the one that left. Thanks again for your support to now...I couldn't have made it back home...again...without you.

It's almost time!

2011-05-06T06:39:00.001-04:00

Eurovision Song Contest
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

No, not for me to finish working at The Bookshop (that was yesterday) or for me to move to America (two weeks from today I'll be there). It's almost time for Eurovision!

Yesterday, at work, one of my colleagues said that he'd always thought my interest in Eurovision was ironic. Couldn't be farther from the truth! Now I will admit to some giggling and finger pointing and rabid tweeting during the two semis and the final but overall, I love it! I think the UK finally has a good shot this year ("I Can" by Blue), while being simultaneously horrified that Ireland might have an equally good shot with Jedward. I've been on YouTube pouring over the official entry videos and made lists of what I MUST download for my iPod. I still listen to entries from last year and the year before, cringing at some and...well, I haven't pulled out a full catwalk boogie on a train platform yet, but I've still got 13 days, hey?

So instead of feeling a failure for repatting so soon, mourning the loss of the friends I've made here, or going through my things to weed out and pack for my flight on the 19th, I'm choosing to immerse myself in all things Eurovision. Glitz, glamour, bad tunes, crazy costumes, what could be better?

(And seriously, if you watch So You Think You Can Dance, Britain's Got Talent, The X Factor, Strictly, or any of that sort, all I can say is pots and kettles my friend...oh, and nuls points!)

From the Inside, Looking Out This Time

2011-04-15T06:30:00.002-04:00

in the labyrinth at chatsworth house
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

The days are counted. The boxes are being filled...okay, really, they're being mentally filled and the clothes are being mentally sorted and so forth and so on. My first expat experience is coming to an end very very soon, and a month from today I will be watching the Eurovision finals and thinking about my impending flight back to the US.

I'm happy about the move. I want to get back to my career and my life in the US. I want to be closer to my family. I want to start making up for the missed time in my now two year old niece's life. I want to get back to me, and be the person that my husband fell in love with and married. I don't think she's been around in a long time.

That said, there is a large part of me that doesn't want to leave. I don't like change, but then who does. I feel like I'm giving up, but I'm really not I suppose. I gave living in Keighley a go, and while there have been some lovely bits it just wasn't the right fit.

Will I ever find the right fit? I don't know. I'm going back to be a freelancer rather than a staff interpreter. I'm going back to be Joy's Auntsy, rather than just Susan's sister. I'm going back to be a member of the Hounds of East Fairhaven, rather than the director. In a lot of ways, I'm going back to just blend in rather than be in charge and stand out...and that's pretty fabulous I think.

The photo above is from my first ever foray into the United Kingdom, back in 1995 when I lived in Scunthorpe for six weeks. I remember leaving at the end, not knowing if I'd ever be back to this tiny island, but being thrilled beyond belief to be going back to my life. This time I don't have a "my life" to go back to, exactly, but I'm thrilled beyond belief to be going home and to have the opportunity to show my husband what real life in America is like.

Soon and very soon. How odd it will be to look back at the UK and not belong here anymore. Maybe this time I'll find out where I really do belong.

Because I am insane...

2011-04-11T11:53:00.000-04:00

Yep, I'm stuck in to another one. This time it's an adaptation of the first two books in the Proud Racer series. I'm not sure I'll finish it, but at least I've started, right?

March, Interrupted

2011-03-28T09:37:00.001-04:00

First stop in Philly...
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

It's been a month today since I headed east to North Carolina for Sandy Paws and a short visit with my friends and family. In the four weeks that followed that day, I ate at Chick Fil A (admittedly the thing I miss most about living in the US not including people) about twenty seven times. I traveled from Greensboro, NC to Jekyll Island, GA, to Jacksonville, FL to Greensboro again to Athens, GA to Cleveland, GA and finally to Atlanta, GA. I saw my parents for two and a half days. I saw my sister and the most perfect niece on the planet for two and a half hours.

I flew back to the UK and threw myself back into work at the Bookshop as well as into looking online for work in South Carolina, Georgia, Tennessee, and Western North Carolina. I stayed up to watch Comic Relief on Red Nose Day. I ate at Nando's (the thing I will miss most about living in the UK other than home delivery of groceries and people). I started the countdown for the next in J.R. Ward's Black Dagger Brotherhood novels. I started a new blog to showcase the photos I've been taking in various and sundry retail establishments around the UK since I've been here.

And I'm looking forward to April...to hopefully finding a job in the US, to hopefully selling our house here so we can move as soon as Simon gets his visa sorted, and to starting Script Frenzy, the screenplay version of NaNoWriMo from last November.

Fingers are crossed and big things are coming. I just need some patience...and a Chik Fil A sandwich wouldn't hurt.

Time Flies...am I having fun?

2011-03-21T09:59:00.001-04:00

Lighthouse Ladies
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Two weeks ago today I was right there in that photo. I was visiting the St. Augustine Lighthouse with my best friend, Leah (in the pink) and our Canadian "sistahs," Janet (next to me) and Vicky. I had sore ribs from laughing until I cried repeatedly. I had wobbly knees because Janet and I walked to the tippy top of the lighthouse (200+ steps!) on a quest to see a ghost. I was happy and relaxed.

Now? Not so much. Happy to be back with Simon, definitely. Happy to have my OWN greyhound to cuddle rather than borrowing one of the ones in the picture, absolutely. Happy to have my Little Man Mills burrowing in my hair and purring like a freight train, well, yeah, mostly. But happy to be back here in the UK? Notsomuch. Happy to be back in limbo, with no job prospects, no house-sale prospects, and a job that I'm definitely not suited for at all? Nope.

Funny how things can change SO much in the course of two short weeks. Funny how I can go from being so sure of what I'm doing and when to being completely on my ear with one mention of an unrelentingly tight state government budget. Funny how I am back to not knowing where I really belong, as well as not knowing where I really WANT to belong. Parts of the UK look really good when the job I'd counted on in the US fizzles. Parts of the US look really good when I have to pretend that I'm good at retail sales. It's a mess, really.

To my Sistahs, love you to bits. Wish we were still there. I could do with a good FB LAN party and some bad sangria...because that's how you treat a princess. For now, though, back to house tidy avoidance...before even more time has flown.

First Week Done and Dusted

2011-03-06T23:02:00.001-05:00

Hello from the Blustery Boardwalk!
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

So I'm sitting in a hotel room in Jacksonville, Florida, and I don't know if I've ever been this tired. Sandy Paws 2011 is over, and we have moved on to the Follow That Hound After Party portion of the holiday. Tomorrow morning some of our folks are headed to the track to tour the kennel, and I will be here, playing dog-nanny to six greyhounds.

Six greyhounds that aren't my own, mind you. Six greyhounds that aren't my Daisy, more importantly. I think if we were to end up in the UK for another year, I would skip this annual event because it's just too hard to be here without her.

Anyway, moving on...Leah and I were discussing Sandy Paws 2011, and I think that part of why I'm so tired is that every year Sandy Paws barrels along at a frantic pace for me. It's the same basic formula as other greyhound events, really. You have a schedule of seminars and other activities focused on living with retired racing/AKC greyhounds. You have social events. You have vendors. You have auctions and raffles. But somehow, Sandy Paws always seems to zip past with me hanging on for dear life. When you've come 4,000 miles for an event, zipping is not a good thing.

The photo above is pretty representative of my vacation so far. There's a wind whipping all around me in that picture, and I feel like there's a metaphorical wind whipping up as well. People are tired. Tempers are short. I love seeing my friends and getting to spend a week with my best friend is just awesome. But the stress? The drama? Yeah, y'all can just keep that part.

American Vacation, Part One

2011-03-02T17:12:00.001-05:00

Exit sign, KWVR Station
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

So here I am in what Liz refers to as The Homeland. I don't really know for sure how long I've been here or what day it is. What I do know, and this may also be the jet lag talking, is that I'm not sure how much I belong here any more.

Please don't read that as "I miss my life in the UK." Nothing could be further from the truth. It also shouldn't be mistaken for "I am nothing when I am without Simon, and since he is in the UK I am therefore nothing." That certainly isn't it either.

The real "it" is that I don't know where I belong. I don't want to be in the UK or the US. I don't want to be anywhere, not in an I Want To Off Myself sort of way but in an I Don't Feel At Ease Anywhere Anymore way.

The first time we came back for a visit, it was marvelous. I was back in my comfort zone. I didn't want to leave and go back to the scary and lonesome UK. The second time it was a little weird. I was starting to look for English food in the American grocery store and was frustrated at things that were "just so flipping different." Yet still, it was then and is now where I want to be...the problem, if you will, is the where within the where.

My old job most likely will not be waiting for me when I return. We may not be able to afford our perfect house b/c I have to freelance and pay for my own insurance (as well as coverage for Simon). It won't be easy, but I never thought I would look at it and think, "Do I really want to do this?"

Well, yes, of course I do. I'm just feeling a bit out of place this trip. Out of step with everyone else. Hours are flying past and my vacation will soon be over and I'm not sure that I will even know that it had started. I'll be staring down that departure gate at Hartsfield again with tears in my eyes. But do I want to stay here? I don't know, to be honest. I just don't know.

For now, though, I'm helping out for a friend of mine that became unexpectedly ill right before I got here. I'm navigating the mine field of friendly surprises and unexpected challenges. And I'm missing Simon and Daisy and Mills.

Is this really a holiday? More on that later, when I've slept a bit.

Different.

2011-02-22T18:42:00.001-05:00

loners.
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I should really be asleep.

Today I've been thinking a lot about being different. Where I come from, that's a condition devoutly to be wished, a prized and sought after THING TO BE. The rat race, the lemmings on the cliff, the sheep bounding over the same fence one after another have got nothing on that one individual that stands out from the crowd.

Me? I hate standing out. Seriously. HATE.IT. I think that's why I went into interpreting as a profession, perhaps on a subconscious level anyway. I like blending into the background. Hmm, maybe that's why the acting-centric drama major I tried so hard to fit into in college became a backstage-crew-centric minor by the time I graduated.

My sister has always been a shining star to my wallflower, and as I'm older and wiser and all that now I know I'm okay with that. I prefer it, to be honest. I know, blogging is a bit egotistical, but I think of it as writing practice more than anything else. We grew up moving around a lot due to my dad's work, and as a result I spent a lot of very uncomfortable and anxious times being "the new kid" who is most definitely "not from around here" and therefore is "different." Not good times. Whereas my sister could (and still can) just roll with it, I backed myself into a safe corner and stayed there, for the most part.

So, back to the topic at hand. I had an incident today at the store that brought home again how I hate being different. If I had a penny for every time a customer in the store asked me where I'm from or made a comment about my accent I'd be rich by now. Rich. Today, though, one customer went a bit too far and, after touching me to get my attention (me no likey outside of Deaf Culture and close friends), apparently ran from the store, all up in a tizzy because he'd met a "real American downstairs in non-fiction!"

Non-fiction...because really, who could make this stuff up?

I remember thinking how I just wished for once I could speak to someone here and no one would know I was anything more than Nancy who works in a bookshop. I am tired of being different. I am tired of being the fish out of water, of being the one "not from around here." I think sometimes that expats mistakenly feel that we aren't allowed that indulgence, that our job is to acclimate and blend and become acquainted and all those other things that come with moving to a foreign country.

Well, to use the language of my "current" people, bollocks to that. I am who I am, and whether I'm a lifer expat or just here for two years, no matter if I'm on a student visa or just gotten my UK citizenship and snazzy maroon passport, I'm still me and me isn't British and isn't ever going to be. Bad attitude? Maybe, but on days like today it's all I've got. Allowed the pity-party or not, it's here. I'm different from almost everyone around me. I don't have close English friends here like I do at home. Home still = America in my mind and my vocabulary.

So, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to sleep now because I've got to go far far away tomorrow to get back to who I really am via an interpreting gig down south. Tomorrow I can be with other displaced Americans before I have to go back to being on display at work in the bookshop.

One last thing: If you can spare a good thought or prayer or whatever it is you do for the people of Christchurch, NZ, please do. The one close friend I do have here in Keighley is a Kiwi expat and I can't imagine how it feels to watch an earthquake of that magnitude cause such devastation back home and be so far away.

Just...stop. Full Stop.

2011-02-08T05:30:00.003-05:00

Good Morning from Haworth!
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Here's what you've missed since the last episode of This Is My Life At The Lettuce:

1. I am still employed at The Bookshop. I have a vacation coming up. I am not 100% sure how many hours I have in my leave time total. I want desperately for my last day there to be the Friday before I leave for my vacation, but that is apparently not to be.

2. The Bookshop is in a bit of a state. Recent events (as well as not so recent events) have led to a workplace climate that bounces between giddy euphoria and utter despair, in a workplace that as of late strongly resembles a mix of high school angst and childish backbiting. It physically and mentally wears me out to even consider getting up on time for work these days, so you can imagine how much fun I am on the shop floor.

3. I have now seen an amateur panto in person, complete with metal chairs (which after three hours of constant sitting in start to resemble concrete blocks) and butter flavoured "clotted cream ice cream" at the intermission. I'm still scratching my head over the casting of a woman as the main hero, Colin/Prince Valiant as well as the use of a modified version of the theme from "Friends" as sung by the aforemetioned Prince-ss and the "Gypsies of the Wood." It certainly was different from the Children's Theatre production of the the same fairy tale we did at YHC back in the day.

4. I am experiencing weird memory losses...not the "Holy Moly, who are you and why are you in my house" kind of memory loss, a la Days of Our Lives, but the "I am positive I locked the house though we came home to find the door open" and "I have no memory of putting my phone in my pocket but it has now vanished from existance and must surely have fallen out of said pocket in the taxi" kind of memory loss. It's stress, I'm sure, but it's also fairly annoying and has hit at irritating times, such as the loss of my blackberry on Saturday or my sudden inability to perform basic tasks at work that I've done thousands of times. Seriously. I will stare at the computer for several minutes trying to figure out how to print out a report that I've done loads of before.

5. Did I mention I lost my blackberry? Yeah, that was a hot mess of fun wrapped in a rainbow. We were heading for the panto and the radio in the taxi was playing the Beastie Boys. I reached for my phone to comment about that on Twitter...as you do, of course...and it wasn't in my pocket. I remembered Simon bringing it downstairs and putting it on the sofa and thought...well, there was some swearing there, I won't lie to you..."I've left it at home...I'm going to Prime Twitter Material in the Form of a Panto and I've left my phone at home." I think there was a bit more swearing. We got home and went directly to the sofa. No BB. We got a flashlight and checked the front stoop, the road, and under the cars parked on the street in front of our house. No BB. Simon rang the taxi company. No BB.

Just wanted to add here that we were NEVER EVER suggesting that the taxi driver took my phone. NOT.AT.ALL. The other driver from the same company who spent our ride up from the supermarket telling us that his colleague doesn't steal and then charged us more than normal for the journey can take a walk.

6. I have made a fantastic wonderful awesome friend here (that I will miss when I move) who lent me the BB that she's just upgraded from until we can get something sorted for me. I hope that she and her OH will come visit us in America because I need to keep being surrounded by such awesomeness...plus she's a fellow supporter of angled parking. (Parallel parking fans...well, there might be more swearing so I'll leave it.) Kia Ora, Sue!

Well, so Catch Up turned into An Entire Post. Huh. I would really like for just a few hours to have everything just STOP, but it won't. The house is not going to get itself ready to be sold, our immigration paperwork isn't going to do itself nor will it post itself, and I refuse to continue to be the reason why our collective feet are dragging. I'll get my full stop soon...on a plane home for two glorious weeks.

Strange Days...Well, One Strange Day Anyway...

2011-01-18T05:34:00.001-05:00

Apparently that's not what they're for either
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

So Simon and I headed to Sainsbury's last night to do our weekly shop, right? Nothing out of the ordinary there, really. We got the trolley, got the items on the list, got tired of being there and got ready to leave.

"Don't forget toilet roll and kitchen roll," he says. We head to that aisle. I head for the kitchen roll first. A grape hits me soundly in the side of the head.

Yep, that's what I said. A Grape. Hit Me. Soundly. In.The.Head. I don't know who threw it, but the sucker hit my head so hard it split before bouncing off the ground in front of us.

On the plus side, Sainsbury's is living up to their promise to stock fresh produce. On the minus side, that grape was so fresh it was almost under-ripe and it left a sore spot on my head just above my right ear.

We recovered from the anonymous grape assault and made our way to the tills. Very nice young man who is ringing up our groceries drops both the two liter diet cokes over the side and onto the floor. I literally saw them falling in slow motion. Nice young man apologises. I scoop those up, hand them to him, and run back to fetch two more that aren't shaken nor stirred.

On the way back, I decided to further fetch the offending fruit that, in my dazed post-assault stupor, I had left on the kitchen roll shelf. Two diet cokes and a grape in my arms, I turn up back at the till...and proceed to drop one of the diet cokes.

By now Very Nice Young Man is grinning like a fool until I hand him the grape and explain how it came from the skies to rap me on the side of my noggin and could he please throw it away? He graciously took it, apologising, as we gathered our groceries and headed for the exit.

I wonder why Simon was in a slight hurry to get out of the store?

Thus far into Twenty Elebben...

2011-01-11T08:28:00.001-05:00

Octo-Rasta
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

(Don't worry, I know that it's Two Thousand Eleven or Twenty Eleven or if you're Irish, Two Tow-sand Eleven. I just use attach the made-up word Elebben to any number in an effort to stop using the previously over-used word gazillion or, even worse umpteenagazillion, both of which I've used forty-elebben times a day. See? Much better.)

(Disclaimer the Second: This will not be a post about New Year's resolutions. The only one I've made this year is not to make them.)

Why the OctoRasta photo you ask? Because it makes me smile. It makes me remember a time when I thought my life was complicated, but it really, REALLY wasn't. It reminds me of the most perfect doggie-love I've ever known, my Monkey Man, my Hunky.

And hey, the fact that it matches one of the Lettuce's theme colours doesn't hurt, either.

Right, so what's happened around here since the new year rang in just over a week ago? I've worked at The Bookshop. I've cuddled with the Daisy Mae, the Mills, and Hubs, sometimes all at the same time. Events have occurred in the US that once again make people that I am in contact with here think I was born in the wild, wild west. Newcastle United has been knocked out of the FA cup by Stevenage. And we are only remotely closer to beginning our repatting journey.

I am LOVING my Kindle. Haters and those bent on shaming me into admitting that I'd really have liked a Sony eReader/iPad/Nook/etc etc can tell me walking, as my colleague Patrick says. For me and my situation, the Kindle has been the perfect fit, and I will freely admit that for the first weekend I had the thing I carried it everywhere I went. Well, inside the house anyway...I don't have a case for it yet so it tends to stay home these days.

I've read two books so far this year. Well, technically just one, I finished the other one. Feel free to head over to the library section of the Lettuce, Well Read, to see what I'm reading and what I've thought about what I've read if you're so inclined. I've entered the Goodreads.com 2011 Reading Challenge, but I think I set my target of 100 books too low. We'll see.

The sinus infection/cold/pre-flu/nastiness that I had over the weekend has finally abated, I think. Yesterday morning I stayed home from work because it felt like a chipmunk was madly trying to burrow it's way out of my sinuses through my face, and every time I stood up too fast I got dizzy. Much better today, so back to The Bookshop tomorrow I go.

I think that's all the news thus far. I'm still counting on being able to come to the States at the beginning of March for Sandy Paws and that very soon after that I will come to the States to STAY. As in FOR GOOD or at least FOR THE FORSEEABLE FUTURE. Stay tuned.

(HEY! I got through an entire blog post without a single mention of hate rhetoric, gun sight crosshairs on maps, Arizona, or Sarah Palin! Aw crap...never mind.)

Happy New Year from London, England!

2011-01-01T09:05:00.002-05:00

Do yourself a favor and turn the sound off first, then put on some music you like. Why the BBC thinks the Radio 1 drivel is a good soundtrack for fireworks is beyond me. But it's a pretty, pretty light show...

2010 in Review...Lettuce Style

2010-12-30T16:27:00.001-05:00

Contemplating.
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I thought before I talk about what I'm going to do next year, I'd jump on the bandwagon in the blogosphere and recap the past year here at the lettuce. See how I'm contemplating, there in the picture (that was taken in January almost three years ago...)?

Other than Susan, Dave, and Joy visiting, I don't think anything happened in January. Well, there was nothing blog-worthy, I suppose, or maybe I just couldn't be arsed to write anything. (As if to prove my point, I didn't even blog about them being here until February!)

I did say in my last post of 2009 that I was planning to earn part of my living via my writing. How did that pan out? Stay tuned...

February was a short month, but it saw me heading back home for a holiday at the end of the month that included one of the best visits EVER with my best friend Leah as well as Sandy Paws, the best greyhound gathering all year. In addition, I just happened to be within an hour's drive of Athens, Georgia, when ,See What I'm Saying screened at the University of Georgia. Marvelous, life-changing, fabulous movie, that. Go see it if you can.

March started with me still in the US, but I was soon back home in the UK and back to work at the bookstore. I'm assuming that something along the lines of a run on anti-American/anti-gay/anti-anythingbutChristian/etc. comments must have cropped up during that month, as my only post during the month has a kind of "I've had enough and I need to remind people who I am and what I stand for" sort of flair.

April started out to be rough. I'd been here a year, Jeany would have been 13 years old, would have been with me 11 years, and had been gone for a year. Susan had a birthday and I was reminded that I'd made it through 12 whole months of living abroad and no one had died or gone insane. Life turned out to be better than I'd expected in April.

May brought us Mills's birthday...big number 12! That was the only post that month, most likely because I was trying to not think about the fact that my precious little man was twelve and that I was twelve years older than I'd been when he was sprung from the Spartanburg Animal Shelter. Somewhere during the month a new government was elected here in the UK, and things have gone downhill fast ever since. The end of May marked the lost of my Hunky a year prior, but we chose to remember him fondly as we took a day trip to a place that he would have loved...York.

June wasn't hot, but it wasn't freezing anymore either which was quite nice. I'm going to include July here as well, because there was one event that absolutely stole focus for all of us for the entire month. I found a lump in one of my breasts. I survived having what turned out to be a cyst drained, as well as a needle-core biopsy (google that if you want to be scared out of your mind) that showed absolutely nothing. Mind you, I'd planned my funeral in the six weeks from finding the pitch invader to the results of the biopsy, and I've never been so glad to hear a doctor say he recommended that I not come back to him again.

In between June and July a former co-worker and friend of mine, Christine, came to visit for 10 days. Other than family, she's turning out to be the only visitor I've had from the states, and I very much enjoyed playing bumbling tour guide while she was here. Totally took my mind off the pitch invader, that's for sure!

August is the hottest month of the year, with temps soaring into the...wait for it...70s. Holy moly. Can you believe it? Tempers ran a bit hot during August, but I said then and I will continue to say that I am very proud of myself for sticking to my guns and asking for what I needed. I think that all involved have gotten past it...but to be honest, the most important people involved, me and Simon, have and all is well. He and I had a blast doing some exploring of West Yorkshire.

The heat didn't stay, as evidenced by this excerpt from a post in August: "We're now fully into the August Bank Holiday weekend and I was wearing a scarf to work this morning. A Scarf. In August. I'll leave you Southern Americans a moment to fan yourselves madly as that thought settles in."

September was full of planning for our American Future, publishing a volume including all my dog books, and politics all over the globe. Somehow I got drawn into all the "Tea Party" insanity back in the US and wrote what I think to be a very salient explanation of why I think those folks are just plain nutters.

October was pretty much nothing but a countdown to our trip to America at the end of the month. I was captivated momentarily by the rescue of 33 Chilean miners from a collapsed mine, and wish that the result had been the same when the mine collapsed in New Zealand.

Oh, there was the wearing of a witch's hat, stripey socks and an actual skirt to work one day just before we flew because it was almost Halloween. Moving on.

November=NaNoWriMo. I wrote 50,000 words worth of an EQ fan fiction novel during the month of November, and I have never felt so much like a real writer. I know some people look down their collective literary noses at NaNoWriMo but I feel like I really accomplished something awesome that month. I also recapped our visit to America, a fact that makes my winning at NaNoWriMo even more special...I didn't really start in earnest until after we got back on the 12th.

And here we are in December. It's been a rough month. It's the second Christmas in a row I've been away from my family, and this year Simon and I were here on our own because the rest of his family was up north and we just couldn't manage that without our own car. I think I've been the most homesick that I've been the whole year this month. I'm trying to channel it into resolve and determination to make the move back to America happen as soon as possible.

So to my resolution last year...earning money through my writing. While the blogs haven't brought in any money (only one of them possibly could) and NaNoWriMo produced a novel that I can't publish without asking for Sony's permission first, I have sold some of the Proud Racer compilations so I'm letting that count. I'm keeping the same resolution for next year and just going to build on it. There will be money made through writing...and even if there's not, there will be published work. There's a writer in me...she just needs to come up and get busy.

Happy New Year, see you guys in Twenty-Eleven.

Deep and crisp and...very uneven.

2010-12-28T07:33:00.001-05:00

Seriously? Again with the camera?
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

So I'm sure that you've all been wondering how our Just the Two of Us Christmas went, haven't you? All five or so of you Lettuce Readers, your patience has paid off...see that photo there? That's pretty much how I've spent this Christmas.

I have not been ill. Wonder of wonders, I did not fall up or down any stairs and find myself bedridden as a result. The dog next to me in the photo is not ill. We have just been afflicted with, as they say here, "I Can't Be Arsed" as far as anything constructive goes. Simon and I have slept in every day since Saturday (we didn't make it to consciousness until well after 9am on Christmas morning) and stayed up until the wee hours of the morning every night since. Tomorrow will be a shock as we're both going into work...me because I have to and him because he needs to top up his flexi-time balance.

Christmas came and went, and was an extremely emotional day for me. I think the overwhelming Not Wanting To Be In England somehow collided with the equally mind-numbing This Might Be My Last Christmas while LIVING In The UK and they got tangled up in I Can't Afford To Give What I'd Like To Loved Ones. It wasn't pretty, but at least the episodes were brief.

Now, turning to the loot...we were all very lucky, including Daisy who got a small pink monkey that she has summarily ignored ever since. Mills received an orange and purple scratching pad that he hugs and rubs his head on before returning to the carpet to clean his claws.

We haven't gotten the snow that the BBC warned us we would, but instead had several hours of very loud, very heavy and very frozen rain last night. However, all is as it was before outside and cars are blaring their stereos as they cruise down our street today...or maybe that's the music in the SimCity game Simon got for Christmas. Hard to say.

So yeah, that's our Holiday Tale, full of food and bad telly and staying in bed...which is where I am now, as I write this, looking very much like the photo above only without the greyhound appendage. Next stop, New Year's Eve followed by our second wedding anniversary and THE ARRIVAL OF MY KINDLE.

What? I forgot to mention that I got a Kindle for Christmas, courtesy of my parents giving us money rather than sending us gifts through the unreliable and always delayed post? Oops. You can bet that will have its own blog post when it gets here. I might even give it a name.

Happy New Year, y'all. Stay tuned for a review of my NY resolutions from last year that might have come true...maybe a little, anyway.

T-4 and counting...sort of.

2010-12-21T06:46:00.001-05:00

ornamental.
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

It's almost here, the big day that seemed so far away this time last year. We were getting ready to head to my sister-in-law's house for three days then. Or even further away the year before, when Simon and I were in the States for Christmas and there was a perfect little 20 day old bundle of Joy waiting to greet us in Atlanta.

This year, though, I'm thinking, again? It's already Christmas again? I'm not ready. I'm not festive. I just want it to be over and done. I had a burst of Christmas spirit yesterday, when Simon was wrapping our Dunne family presents to send up north tomorrow with Louise. Everyone is getting together up there this year, but because we don't drive and I have to work Christmas Eve and the day after Christmas Bank Holiday, we can't go. So it's going to be me and Simon (and our families via Skype, I hope?) on the big day.

I think part of me has already started looking forward to Christmas next year because it will really feel like Christmas to me...because I'll be back home. The lighting of the tree at Underground Atlanta. Hopefully going with Joy when she sees Santa and rides the Pink Pig. Sending Daisy off to have Christmas with her Auntie Leah and then going to my folks' place in the mountains for Christmas Eve/Day. It's funny how much of that I took for granted until I couldn't do it anymore, and how incredibly important that ritual has become in its own absence.

But for now, I'll look for presents to be delivered by the terribly lazy postman who never knocks. I'll tromp through the snow to the bus stop to get to work. I'll deal with the customers at work who seem to think it's open season on Americans just because there's a bit of extra stress involved in holiday shopping. I'll watch Simon eat mince pies, and enjoy brussel sprouts at Christmas dinner. I'll try my best to enjoy what will be my last Christmas in England for a year or so. And on Christmas morning I'll wake up with my family...Simon, Daisy, and Mills, and be so very thankful I have them.

Merry Christmas, y'all, from all of us here at the Lettuce.

Well, hello again, MONDAY.

2010-12-13T02:41:00.001-05:00

Back in the U...K.
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

(Those of you that are familiar with Seinfeld, imagine that Monday=Newman.)

Oh, what a weekend. I spent most of Saturday not feeling well, but had a brilliant night out with Simon's oldest friends Saturday night. It's amazing how good conversation and laughter can make an absolutely disgusting curry taste better. (Seriously...that was the WORST chicken korma I've ever had, but I digress...) Cheers all around to Ben, Poom, Wesley and Suzanne for a marvelous time. Egg McMuffins all around!

Sunday we CLEANED the house in preparation for a visit from Simon's parents, which was just lovely even if all we had for a meal was pizza. I guess there is enough of my mother in me to want to be a proper hostess, even in a "dine in kitchen" that is only about 8'x8' all together. I'm going to miss being able to ask Simon to reach into the fridge and get more to drink, or grab another fork from the drawer without him having to get up from the table. Cheers to him, by the way, for doing the dirty work (I DON'T do bathrooms) while I mopped the kitchen.

Now it's Monday, and despite my best efforts there is nothing wrong enough with me that I can ring in sick. At least it's not snowing...yet. They're saying we're getting more of the white stuff on Thursday and I'm so not looking forward to that. Cheers, Nature, for giving me a break in the weather today and Wednesday, at least!

Warning: Totally Emo

2010-12-09T19:08:00.001-05:00

Who, me? Good. Definitely.
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Right, so the last few posts here at the Lettuce have been pretty upbeat, I think. I've been making an effort, anyway, not sure that it's come across as such but we do what we can. NaNoWriMo kept me busy and focused throughout November, so perhaps my current attitude is just the big let down after a month of up? Not sure. Whatever it is, though, you have been warned.

A lot has been going on lately. Tempers are on a hair-trigger. I include my own in that statement, as anything seems to have the potential to set me off these days. Today I was yelling at the telly as students were destroying Parliament Square, then a few hours later I was crying my eyes out watching the lighting of the White House Christmas Tree. Thank goodness it didn't involve the National Anthem or you'd have heard me sobbing from all the way over where you are...wherever that is.

Work is stressful but that's pretty much a given during the run up to Christmas. Daisy and Mills and Simon and I are healthy but I'm not sure I'd go on record as saying we're 100% happy all the time. I miss Hunky and Jeany (and all my other furbabies, don't mistake) more this time of year than the rest of the time, and I guess that's why I picked that photo for the post tonight.

I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time wishing I was still in that little house with that little tree and my little life... or that I was just anywhere but here. Normal for an expat during holidays, I get that. Even more so for one like me who really didn't 100% WANT to be an expat in the first place...and who can't wait to go back home. It affects everything I do...home is perfect, here is not. My rational mind knows that isn't the case, but I've got to say, the UK right now is giving me plenty of reasons to think I might be on the right track.

New government. Cuts to public spending. Angry students breaking windows and putting graffiti on walls. Customers (and others, mind you) in the store where I work that thinking they can say anything they like to me once they hear my accent. Some days I want to break windows and spray paint buildings and lob concrete blocks, but I don't. I take it out on you, my poor Lettuce readers. (I did warn you. Right there, in the title. See?)

Does that make me better than someone else? No, but it surely does color my perspective on some issues. Does that make me wrong? No. Will I become violent if I keep hearing that my experiences, my views, my perspectives on life and the world are somehow inferior or less enlightened? Possibly...

Who me? Good. Definitely. Just today I don't feel good enough.

Thoughts on Winning, in 50K words or less...

2010-11-30T06:43:00.001-05:00

Good LORD ALMIGHTY it's cold here...
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I chose the picture above for today for several reasons. One, it's just as cold here today as it was when I was standing there on Bamburgh Beach almost two years ago. From what I'm hearing, this sort of cold weather and SNOW is here a bit early this year. I can't remember, to be honest. My memories of last winter here in the UK are that it was freezing cold and there seemed to be snow from November until about April. I might be exaggerating, but I'm not sure I'd thawed completely before we were hit with the white stuff again.

Two, there's a castle in the background that reminds me in no small way of the one I just spent the last month writing in and out of in my NaNoWriMo work. I mentioned in a previous post that I was writing a piece of Everquest fan fiction, and I wanted to tell you a little bit about it here so that it doesn't pass into oblivion. That was a lot of work for nothing.

When I played Everquest my main character was a wood elf druid named Ginolwenye. Years ago I started a blog for her where I recorded the stuff we did in game as though it was an unfolding fantasy novel. Well, that might be tooting my own horn a bit, but I wrote in first person as Ginolwenye and it was a fun little project for awhile. Later on I turned some of that into a few disjointed prose files, which lead to a larger project that I worked on now and then over the past seven years. I started my NaNoWriMo with a totally new idea, and couldn't get anything going, so on day three I switched back to writing a new chapter for Gin and her friends and BAM, game on. The best part was the day that I discovered I was not writing a continuation of the seven year novel, but a sequel...that happened around day 15 or so.

Three...I'm alone in the photo. NaNoWriMo has fab forums that you can join and talk to others on the insane quest for 50k words in 30 days. You can get help when you're stuck. You can adopt characters that others have created but can't use. There are pep talks and commiserations. Beyond cyber-help, there are people setting up Write-Ins and Word Wars where you meet up and interact with others working on the NaNoWriMo quest. I read a lot of stuff and even posted a few things (I'm sure that those following me on Twitter will be glad when this month is over!), but for the most part I finished my 50k (a few days early, I might add!) like I started it. Alone. Just like me standing on that beach in the photo.

I'm already looking forward to Script Frenzy in April and next year's NaNoWriMo. Hopefully I can get together something that I can actually publish next November...and I will have learned how to reach out and join the community that is at the heart of NaNoWriMo. For now, though, I am going to sit back and be proud of what I've accomplished.

Well, until December 1st when I start looking at it with a critical eye and a virtual red pen that would make my English teacher mother proud...

Just wanted to say that...

2010-11-25T20:10:00.001-05:00

As of 1:00am GMT, I've reached the 50K point on my NaNoWriMo novel!!!
(It's not even really CLOSE to finished, but still...)

I am WELL CHUFFED.

condiments.

2010-11-14T12:33:00.001-05:00

condiments.
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I can't believe I forgot to mention that I've gone completely insane and am participating in National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo. You can follow the progress of my novel with this widget which will update, allegedly, as I update the website on my progress. My project is the continuation of ... don't laugh... an EQ Fan Fic novel I've been working on for a few years...and we'll see if I can get it to 50k words by the 30th of November.

On perfect shots and even better holidays.

2010-11-13T21:13:00.001-05:00

Purple.
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Simon and I have just returned from two weeks in the US and currently the evil that is jet lag is keeping me wide awake, well past my bed time. The photo in today's post is my friends Katy and Kurt's daughter Ellery, and it's an example of the photo journey this vacation became. It seemed like everything we pointed the camera at became photo gold...well, almost everything. Okay, not even almost everything. We have loads and loads of blurred and similarly Susan'ed photos that I've been weeding through to get the perfect ones for uploading.

Did I mention jet lag? 1:45am GMT. Me=awake.

The holiday seemed to simultaneously last for a month...and a minute. We'd just arrived, and we were back in Philly on the way home. We were in Greensboro on a Monday, rejoicing that we'd have another Monday in the US in a week's time...and now I'm staring down a Monday back in the UK in under 24 hours. But I think holidays are always like that...time speeds up and slows down and folds over on itself.

We arrived in Atlanta via Philly on the 28th, and took a VERY long MARTA (because it's SMARTA, natch!) ride north to meet my parents. We spent the night there, then on Friday headed to Greenville. Katy and Kurt and Ellery were kind enough to host me, Simon, and Leah, and a good time was had by all. Seriously, if I could covet someone's life/house/etc etc it would be theirs!

By the way, just in case anyone was wondering, it is not at all legal to turn left on red in the US, even when you're 99% sure that the green light you see includes your left turn lane and completely miss the fact that the lane has it's own light. Moving on.

Saturday we hit the last Greenville Farmer's Market of the season, ate lunch at my fav downtown restaurant (Blue Ridge Brewing Co) and then Simon, Leah and I dropped in at the Bark in the Park to see our friends in Greyhound Crossroads.

Saturday night we went Trunk or Treating with about a million other people. After Ellery's successful climb to the top of the bouncy slide (and Kurt's rescue of same when she decided sliding was not for her), amid rumors of candy shortages at the event, we headed back home for lots of laughs, even though Katy was feeling absolutely pants with an oncoming head cold.

Sunday morning we headed north to the Carolina Renaissance Festival. It's all I can do to walk through that gate as a patron because my heart is there, in the group that I helped found. It wasn't right to be there without a greyhound at my side, but the group has grown and done so so well...I can't wait to be a part of it next year. Many kudos, much love, and a whole lot of chemise dancing to Debbie for taking the reins and running with them in my absence. I can't wait to see where she will take the group in the future!

Sunday night saw us following Leah up to Greensboro, and Monday we got to see the house that we hope against hope she will be able to buy and move into very soon. Anyone who knows me and Leah knows that we watched Talladega Nights while we were there visiting. "Just one more shot, Ricky. One more shot..."

Tuesday we headed back to Greenville to meet with a realtor and saw a few houses. Tuesday night Katy and Kurt again opened their home to us, and we had more of the same..."Fun, Food, and Conversation!" Thanks unending to everyone that put us up for the night on our Carolina Excursion!

Wednesday we were off to Georgia to spend a night with my parents before going to Atlanta on Thursday to spend a night with my sister, her husband, and the most perfect niece anyone could EVER have, Joy. She has grown up so much since I last saw her in March! Part of what sucks about being an expat is that I feel like I have missed so much.

Friday night we headed back to north Georgia, and on Saturday we drove over to the gorgeous Unicoi State Park to meet my college classmate Heather and her new husband for lunch. To be filled under Weird Things That Only Happen When Nancy and Heather Are Together, the Georgia Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf was having their conference at Unicoi that same weekend, so the place was overflowing with interpreters.

Sunday we went to church with Mom and Dad, and Sunday night we again imposed on Katy and Kurt so that Monday morning we could meet with the realtor again to see more houses. This time, the first one we saw not only ticked ALL the boxes for us but was literally right around the corner from our friends...but it is under contract and we wouldn't be ready to buy yet if it wasn't. We had a good experience with Suzanne, our realtor, and look forward to working with her in the future.

Thanks to Anne, we had SUSHI Monday for lunch...mercy was that delicious. After she spent a very harrowing weekend looking for a lost bloodhound, I was so glad that we got to actually sit down with her for a meal. That is going to become a HABIT when we live there. Suuuuuushi.

Sorry, where was I?

Monday night saw us back with my parents, and Tuesday we drove down to meet my Aunt for lunch and hit a few outlet malls. We are nothing if not overly aware of the exchange rate being in the favor of those coming to the US from the UK. Wednesday Simon and I went up to my grandmother's house with my father to start cleaning things out, but that experience is another blog post for another day.

Thursday we bought groceries, we packed our bags, and we generally mourned the fact that we'd be leaving the US on Friday. Friday morning we were up before the sun, we drove to Atlanta, and before we knew it we were at Hartsfield on our way back across the ocean. While it's been good to get back to Daisy and Mills, my heart splinters a bit when I think of Joy hugging me, trying to give me a kiss and saying "Bye Bye, Auntsie! See you!"

When Jet Lag finds someone else to annoy I will better be able to reflect without floods of tears on a fabulous two weeks. For now though, I'm just so very motivated to get us on track to move back. Bye bye, America. See you!!

As heard on the Beeb just now..

2010-10-20T07:02:00.001-04:00

Look kids...yeah, you know.
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

"You know something important is going on today as there are helicopters over Westminster. Of course, they (ed note: the helicopters) may be cut in the next few minutes (ed note: referring to the upcoming Spending Review Announcement/Bombshell), but let's just enjoy the view for now..."

Now to watch the kindergarteners sling insults and mud at each other...sorry, for those not watching the BBC News Channel, I'm referring of course to the Prime Minister's Questions. Good LORD it's like "Cheers" in there...Labour Leader is announced and the entire room full of pompous and pious MPs shouts, "ED!!!!"

Thanks, Kiddos

2010-10-13T07:03:00.001-04:00

The Usual Suspects
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I was just looking back through my blog to find when I moved to the myriad of places I lived between 2005 and 2010, and I was struck by what a support and saviour my greyhounds were through all of that. Of course, my Daisy is continuing in that tradition, but I'm thinking now of Hunky, Profile, and Jeany who have left me for the Bridge...where hopefully they can stay in one place for a long time.

They put up with moving three times in as many years. They put up with living in two houses in Greenville and Anderson. They did so many tours at the Carolina and Georgia Renaissance Festivals, and all they wanted in return was my undying love and...well, in Jeany's case for sure, worship. They had it, and they still have it. Miss you guys. Love you to bits. Thanks, kiddos.

Gracias a Dios

2010-10-13T05:39:00.002-04:00

Everything wrong in the world is right, for a few moments, as I'm sitting here watching the miners in Chile being rescued from the mine where they've been for the better part of two months. You can click here to see photos of the first miners being pulled from the rescue tunnel. Gracias a Dios, Gracias a Dios.

Soon and very soon...

2010-10-07T05:36:00.001-04:00

My standard shot of the mountains
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

See that view? That's what my parents see EVERY DAY as they eat their meals, venture out onto their back porch, or just gaze out the windows in the great room. I don't know what mountain that is, exactly, but I'm sure my dad does. He was born and raised just across the road from where this picture was taken, and has made these mountains home his entire life.

There are just 20 days left until Simon and I leave for our much needed holiday in America. While I'm still fretting over fitting in visits to everyone that I want to see, scheduling a time to meet with a real estate agent in Greenville, and possibly chasing down leads for jobs for me once we move back, I'm also just desperate to be home. I think it's the amount of time I've been away this time that's making the homesickness worse, plus the stress of the house not selling and all the rest.

But seriously, if you had THAT view to look forward to, why would you ever leave? Soon and very soon, we are going to see...home.

This time next year...Ahoy CRF!

2010-09-29T08:23:00.001-04:00

Cap'n Morgan Arrrrrrrrr
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

My last entry was a bit of a downer, so I wanted to think of something happy to write about today. As I looked around the web for inspiration, I found it in the strangest place...the calendar at the bottom of the screen. It's coming up on October, which means it's coming up on the 10th season that the Hounds of East Fairhaven have made an appearance in the cozy village at CRF! Ten years...

The first year there were four of us humans and about ten greyhounds all together. We didn't have our own building but were annexed onto the Lord Mayor's Court instead. We sat on benches in the back. We left during the shows so that we didn't steal focus. Orphans brought the dogs water and tucked blankets around them when it got colder. We learned to stick weave and more than we ever needed to know about bullfrogs. We probably lost several stone among us from the sheer amount of walking we did.

The second year we were thrilled and amazed to have our own tent, despite it's placement in front of a storm drain that sadly got blocked halfway through the season. Our tent, or "A River Is Still Running Through It," was too small for a platform, but we brought a dining room table, chairs, trunk, sheepskin, and a variety of oriental rugs and made it home. We had new members and I think our running total was about 6 humans and 15-20 greyhounds.

Something happened before year three and we lost lots of members. There were three of us that were regulars, but luckily we all had multiple hounds so we still had at least 5 hounds at any given time. Our tent was in a new place, over by the joust. We drank chai tea and listened to the horses behind us in their paddock. We played with the drums from the stall next door, and put fairy wings on the greyhounds (much to their general UNamusement). With a huge open area behind the jousting arena we did lots of lure pole and other demonstrations, much to the delight of the patrons (and the dogs, who got to RUN). We camped on site for the first time, some in tents and me in my Element. We were feeling like part of the CRF family.

Fourth year rolled around and we ended up at the other end of the festival, right by the front gates! There were cinnamon almonds and chai teas within arm's reach, as well as pumpkin milkshakes and tiramasu. The lure pole demonstration was a great hit, even when the dog being demo'ed ran past the handler and joined the audience at the Tortuga Twins show. There were hay bales and yellow jackets...the latter giving us trouble in the tent and in Joanne's corset.

We started our fifth season with a new spring in our steps and our hips, as we were positioned next to the Jewels of the Caravan. We snuggled with our dogs on our new platform and learned new words like yalayahabeebee. We feared being so close to the petting zoo, and were thankful when only one rabbit broke free and came visiting...luckily during houndie nap time. By the end I think some of us had morphed into half fewterer, half bellydancer!

The sixth season is a bit of a blur to me because I was in Alabama. The woman in the photo up there was an absolute lifesaver for me, as she agreed to take on the leadership of the group in my absence. HOEF is like my child...it was my idea in the beginning, I gathered a group and went to CRF to pitch the idea, and I'd been there almost every opening since we were given the green light. To hand it over was heartbreaking, but at the same time I knew Debbie loved it as much as I did. There were growing pains that season including a strange argument over a displaced young tree, but the two times I visited it was like I'd never left.

Come seventh season I was BACK and raring to go. Our tent was borrowed, due to Mother Goose's inability to be there due to illness. We painted a concrete goose, put a bonnet on it, and put it in front of our tent lest we forget to send her our best good wishes and thoughts for recovery. Once again we were near the almonds and the chai, but I was without one of the originals...as I walked the grounds the first morning, I could feel the presence of a certain white and dark brindle hound just to my left, nuzzling my hand and then dashing off in search of a Tortuga show. It was Daisy's first season, and the first time that I went Pirate...and may never go back.

The eighth season saw us with new wonders to behold. Under Debbie's leadership the group had been given a BUILDING! A permanent place to be...no river would run through it and no late autumn Carolina monsoon wind would carry it away. We had sparse furnishings but we had a storage room/time out room for tired hounds. We had our own real backstage area. We settled in and made ourselves at home. We had become part of the CRF family.

The ninth season I only made it for one weekend because I was away...far away, here in England. I remember walking past the flying machines and toward the HOEF building and feeling like I was going to explode from pride, from jealously, and just from happiness to be there...to see them doing what I knew they were so good at doing...to see what HOEF had become, and to remember huddling in the back of the mayor's tent that first year. This year will be the tenth season and again, I'm only there for one weekend. But next year...Katy bar the door, I'm back! Now...where's my sewing machine?

For more information about the Carolina Renaissance Festival or the Hounds of East Fairhaven, please visit the CRF website and click on "Entertainment." Much love and thanks to all the cast and crew over the past ten years, and special thanks to Debbie Rater, who flies the flag high for HOEF every day of the year, and has kept it alive for me to come back to next fall. Ya-lah, ya-lah? Arrrrrrrrr...

Happy Inside

2010-09-22T08:07:00.008-04:00

Can you imagine if they released 100 greyhounds into an IKEA? There wouldn't be a meatball left in the store, I can assure you of that, and they'd find them all asleep on the Ektorp sofas.

(There's a ginger tabby that looks right at the camera at one point...looks SO much like my Mills...)

Seriously.

2010-09-22T05:56:00.001-04:00

Seriously.
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Things have gone from weird to totally nuts in two days here at the Lettuce. (Nods for that to my former boss, Roger, who taught me that totally nuts IS in fact a diagnostic term.) We got a phone call about 2pm on Monday that someone wanted to come see the house THAT DAY. Considering at that time the house looked like a tornado had not only hit, but had brought its friends Hurricane and Duststorm and settled in for the long haul, that was not going to happen. Friendly and Not At All Helpful Estate Agent suggests Wednesday at 5pm. I agree, hang up the phone, and PANIC.

Thankfully my employer was sympathetic and let me switch one of my work days this week so that today can be spent getting ready for the potential buyer that may or may not turn up.

No, before you say anything, that's not my general pessimism about the world at large rearing its head. That's an assumption based on the cold hard fact that in the two years plus that the house has been on the market, we've had five calls that someone was coming and only three of those have turned up on the day.

So, laundry's in and I'm taking a tea break, and I started thinking about what might happen if the bloke actually turns up AND wants the house. Remember the previous post and my thoughts on change? Yeah, anxiety times infinity. But good, really good I think. When I start getting nervous about the move and think it would just be easier to stay here because I sometimes can't be asked to do anything difficult (go on, those that know me, laugh, I'll keep going though if you don't mind?) I start thinking of specific things I've experienced in the past two years that have made up my mind that this is not the place to be for me at this time. Here's a few, for your general amusement, pity, shock, awe, horror, and ambivalence. Enjoy.

1. At work one day a customer said to me that he'd never visit America because he wasn't a fan of George W. Bush. I casually mentioned that we'd elected a new president and had high hopes for his administration. The customer went on to tell me that Mr. Obama wouldn't be in office long because, "he'll get shot. That's what you American lot do, you get a gun and shoot people."

2. I miss my car. It worries me that if something should happen to Daisy I don't know how I'd get her to the vet quickly because most of the taxi drivers here won't transport dogs...or if they do, they put them in the boot and won't allow them in the backseat with me.

3. "What part of New Zealand are you from? Oh...you're American. Huh."

4. "What part of Canada are you from? Oh, I see, well I guessed Canadian first because most people are offended if you call them American and they aren't."

5. During a conversation that I wasn't an active part of but was close enough to hear, the statement was made that "America is always going to be at least two decades behind the rest of the world." The person then noticed me, grinned, and said, "I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, right Nancy?"

6. I miss my dishwasher, my tumble dryer, my box springs, Kraft Dinners (that I don't have to go to Manchester to purchase or pay close to $4/box for), Target (yeah, I know, boycott, blah blah), WalMart (back off man, I'm poor), Renaissance Festivals, greyhound adoption work/events, and Hazelnut flavoured CoffeeMate coffee creamer (creamer, not whitener!!).

There are things that I love about living here, but this isn't a post about that. I want to stop feeling like an outsider. I want to be home.

And speaking of home, my current one isn't going to clean itself. Ta-rah!

On Entrances, Exits, and Just Passing Through...

2010-09-20T06:25:00.001-04:00

Entrance or Exit?
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Like a lot of my photos, the one for today's post is of a gate and a passageway. I seem to be obsessed with them, and if you check out Coming Out of the Tunnel and It's a Journey, you'll see that there is a reason for this obsession.

When I was a kid (and still today, if I'm honest), I had a big problem with change. Mom tells me that I used to cry during the credits of TV programs because I didn't want them to be over. I can remember anxiety hitting just before the bell rang in school because I was changing classes. I never wanted the change to occur because, I think, I wasn't self confident enough to know that I could handle what was coming next.

What the heck is someone like that doing moving to another country, you might ask? Been asking myself that for the past 17 months, if I'm honest. Everything has been a struggle for me, from the first time I took the bus on my own to the supermarket to the first time I used my debit card and remembered the PIN (those happened in the same trip, coincidentally).

Yeah, I know, this blog is all about sunshine and happiness, isn't it? Watch out, the unicorns in the corner may poke you with their horns as they scamper away from the leprechauns holding balloons.

I was thinking about my photos of entrances/exits as I stopped by random bacon, a blog run by a fellow American expat and friend of mine, Julie. Her post, Somewhere In Between, struck a chord in me, specifically when she said:

Just as I was turning left to take a short-cut through a nearby park, I was suddenly overcome with the feeling of "foreigness". Potentially only other expats can fully understand what I mean by that statement, but basically I was riding along on my bike and this huge swell of emotion came up involuntarily, pushing the thoughts of "I live in a foreign country. This is not my culture. This is England. How did I get here again?" into my mind. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling necessarily, but just a highly intense awareness around the fact that I'm not in my native land. These thoughts were then followed up by mixed feelings of pride, sadness, intrigue and loneliness all at once.

That's it. That's what has been following me like Winnie the Pooh's stormcloud since I got here a year ago in April and for the life of me, I can't shake it. I think that what I'm realising is that I'm not really cut out to LIVE permanently outside of the US, and that's okay. There is no shame in knowing who you are and where you belong...in fact, that's the same thing that settled expats feel, just they feel that they belong here.

So are my photos entrances or exits? Neither. I'm just passing through, on my way home to regroup before I head out to explore again. Only next time I'll take an extra jumper...

All Together Now...

2010-09-13T09:05:00.001-04:00

proud racer cover
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

(from Lulu.com )

"The entire Proud Racer series (One Greyhound's Journey, A Tail of Two Brothers, Blind Faith, and Half Crazy) is now together in one volume: The Complete Proud Racer! As told from the perspectives of the greyhounds, follow Hunk as he leaves his athletic career behind and becomes a pet in One Greyhound's Journey and A Tail of Two Brothers...will he be reunited with his littermate Marky? In Blind Faith, available for the first time with Lulu.com, meet Shotgun Liz, a fiesty old greyhound lady whose faith leads her not only to a new home with new friends, but possibly back to the old friends from home. Finally, in Half Crazy, follow the newest pack member, Daisy, as she learns the ropes at Home...with the help of a former pack member turned angel. This series is sure to delight both those who share their lives with greyhounds and those who don't...yet."

I have my copy in hand now...and I hope that wherever he is my Hunky-man is happy with seeing his beautiful face on the cover of this new book...yet another way for me to tell his story. Thanks for looking, y'all...and thanks even more if you buy one!

On Tea Bags, Birth, Truth, and America

2010-09-06T07:09:00.001-04:00

He looks hungry...
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I was listening to Radio Four's Americana with Matt Frei yesterday while having my tea, and the topic was "Conservative economist Thomas Sowell on how America's greatness is being dismantled." Let me pause a second before I get started and say that while I do enjoy listening to this program, it's a bit of a bone of contention in our house because my husband LOVES a good debate. I do not share that love, and often come out of these "discussions" feeling as though I've endured an hour's worth of America Bashing. My rational mind knows that is not the case, but my emotions often take over when the topic is my country.

You would think that since I freely admit to loving the United States of America, warts and Republicans and all, that I would understand the motivation behind the "Tea Party Movement" even if I don't agree with it. This morning I've devoted quite a bit of time to researching these "teabaggers" (*snort*) and I've got to say that I'm even more puzzled by them than I was when I started.

Call me naive. Call me a tree hugger. Call me a socialist. I'm not thick and I'm not reading "left wing propaganda" describing this movement and its proponents. I'm going to their own websites and checking out the profiles of their champions that are in their own words...and I gotta say, I still don't get it. Here's what I'm seeing and what it is leading me to believe...I'm sure I'll be corrected every way but Sunday, but y'all, maybe before shouting at me you should look at your PR people with a closer eye because they're the ones that are producing this convoluted information.

Aren't you proud of me? I haven't called it drivel...yet.

I feel that calling the current loose conglomeration of dissent the "Tea Party Movement" is disrespectful to those patriots that opposed the taxation imposed by the British. The main problem there, unless I seriously slept through ALL of my history classes, was that there was no representation of the colonists in Parliament when these taxes were voted on and approved. None. As in zero. The people voting on the taxes lived in England, not Virginia. Now all of those people that you Tea Party members see as oppressing you? They're all Americans. YOU voted them into office, if you voted. So...um...not the same thing. Dissent may be patriotic, but this isn't dissent. It's more like you've changed your minds.

I already know what the argument will be for my next statement, and I can bet it will have the word conspiracy in it at least once, but this one is for the birthers out there. Barack Obama, II is an American. He was born in Hawaii, and I think we all agree that Hawaii is a state and not just some random collection of Polynesian islands. I feel fairly safe in believing that when the then senator from Illinois submitted, via his political party, his intention to run for the office of the President, SOMEONE up there in Washington vetted his creds to see if he was elligible to run. If he'd been born in Kenya or Bali or wherever else these folks claim he was born, HE WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ON THE BALLOT.

I will say that I'm not sure how I feel about the Health Care Reform business because I'm still weeding through all the miles and miles of text of the bills and the amendments and the opposition and and and...but I can say this: Those of you that are outraged because the law forces you to have health insurance, are you kidding me? I suppose you're also opposed to laws that make driving a vehicle while intoxicated illegal, and the one that requires you to wear a seatbelt? I was pleased to see, however, that there is a tax imposed on indoor tanning...or as I like to call it, Please, Give Me Skin Cancer and Let Me Pay You For It.

Here's a neat tidbit I uncovered: all that bailout business that the right whinges on about being proof that Obama doesn't care about America etc etc etc? Yeah, that was a Bush thing. How soon we forget.

And what of the ringleaders of what seems to me to be quite the circus of discontent and anger and...patriotism? I've never liked Bill O'Reilly, Rush Limbaugh, or Rupert Murdoch. FoxNews is a joke as far as Fair and Balanced goes. (And before you ask, no, I don't watch CNN. Currently I'm getting my news from the BBC and the Daily Show, thanks for asking.) Sarah Palin? Seriously, that's a whole blog post in itself but I'll sum it up by saying I think she's a victim of a political machine desperate to lure in female voters. You can't dress up a pit bull in lipstick and expect it to do anything but bark incoherently. Mama Bear will still maul you as soon as look at you...she's not the best choice for rational conversation.

This post is sliding down into a right proper rant so I will wind it up by saying that I love my country. I'm proud to be an American. I don't think that Mr. Obama is a savior, I'm not waiting for him to pay for my way through life, and I feel that he has missed the mark on some things that I was hoping to see when I cast my vote for him as my choice for President...and I can't wait to get back home and add my voice to those rational Americans not won over by the current cacophany of fear-mongerers and bullies.

Didn't I tell you not to blink?

2010-08-27T10:09:00.001-04:00

Heading home...
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Well, after the exciting and scary and revealing events of June and early July, I was hoping for a bit of calm. A bit of warmish weather. Peace. I was going to enjoy the British summer and relax after staring my own mortality in the face twice in as many months.

Wrong.

With August came family drama that I won't rehash here save saying that I will go to my grave being proud of myself for sticking to my guns when it came to getting what I needed, and proud of my husband who remains, to this day, the most romantic and wonderful man on the planet. I felt our family solidify over the course of some very ugly and potentially soul destroying days, and I'm thrilled to report that we've come out the other side intact.

And that happy, smiley British summer that the cider ads were all touting on telly? Yeah, apparently that was over last week but no one sent me the memo. We're now fully into the August Bank Holiday weekend and I was wearing a scarf to work this morning. A Scarf. In August. I'll leave you Southern Americans a moment to fan yourselves madly as that thought settles in.

Today was a lesson in patience as far as getting to work goes. I was out of the house on time (two hours and fifteen minutes prior to my official start time at work) and made my bus as well as the train from Keighley to Leeds. However, forces outside of my control and all the way down the line at Fitzwilliam (remind me to tell you why I hate that town one day...it has to do with a long walk to a greyhound event and quarter-sized hail in June) conspired against me. I boarded the 0940 Leeds to London KX at 0925 (along with about a million happy Leeds Rhino fans and others wearing kits I didn't recognize) and settled into the one square foot of space left in a vestibule to read while I waited to arrive at Wakefield Westgate at 0952...however, at 0951 we still hadn't left Leeds.

A broken down train at Fitzwilliam (just typing the name of that town makes me go all stabby) had caused delays up the line at Leeds...delays that turned into cancellations. When it became apparent that I wasn't going to leave Leeds until well after I was supposed to start work in Wakefield, I called in and started looking for a train BACK to Keighley.

At least the laundry's out on the line.

So I think that summer is officially over and we can now slink into my favourite season of them all, Autumn...as well as start the countdown toward our American holiday at the end of October. Life isn't GOOD yet, but it surely is getting BETTER every day.

Now if we could just find a buyer for the house...

Our Great British Summer

2010-07-21T04:41:00.001-04:00

Is this the way out?
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

As we wind down July and head into the hottest month on the planet in every other place but England, I wanted to take a minute or two and catch you up on what's been going on here in our little corner of this damp island.

June was a bit of a wash, really. For those that don't know (and I'm going to apologize here to my more sensitive and MALE readers, this is heading into serious TMI territory), in early June I found a lump in a place women never want to find lumps. We did the responsible thing, of course, and headed to the GP. Turns out she couldn't definitively (I think that's translated as "without fear of a lawsuit") say what it was, so we were "fast tracked" to the Breast Care Clinic at Airedale Hospital over in Steeton.

PS-Steeton is a lovely village, and the staff at Airedale were just fabulous.

Why is "fast track" in quotes? Because here being "fast tracked" means that you'll be seen not more than two weeks from your referral appointment. I was seen on the day before the two week deadline, so I suppose that's pretty "fast." Nevermind the absolute panic and dread that had set in...a friend of mine here said that when it happened to her she'd planned her entire funeral before she got in to be checked out. I can relate.

The first something turned out to be mostly a nothing, a cyst to be exact that they gave me the option to have drained with a needle. Seriously? Y'all, don't ever give me the option when it comes to a needle because I will say no EVERY time. This time, though, they asked me what my husband might say...to which I replied that he'd want it drained and let's just get on with it. I came away from that thinking I'd truly turned a corner and Holy CRAP am I brave or WHAT?

Then I found out about the second somethings.

Seems that when they did a mammogram (which, to the delight and amusement of the techs, I referred to as Twister Plus a Vice Grip) they found five little itty-bitty things that they wanted to check out further. Okay, more xrays? Um, no, we need to remove them to check them out.

See above dire panic and funeral planning. This time I went so far as to pick out flowers.

A week later I was in to play another round of Vice Grip Twister while they did what is politely called a Needle Core Biopsy. I don't really know what they did, to be honest, I looked the other way, stared at the poster of Scotland on the wall, and tried to ignore the sound of the needle as it removed sample tissue. Actually, it reminded me so much of a staple gun I was finding myself amused a few times remembering staple gun fights in the theatre shop when I was in college...but I digress.

Again I was on top of the world, I'd survived the removal of 12 tissue samples and was told they were just going to get one more. Yeah, they really could have kept that to themselves. I remember looking at my hand and thinking that it was amazing I'd held onto the machine this long without losing my grip...and noticed that my hand was now turning a weird color, kind of greenish...and then the yuck hit and I told them I was feeling sick.

Did I mention how awesome the staff there are? They did the last one, removed the Jaws of Life, and one of the sweetest nurses EVER literally mopped my brow until my color came back.

The results came back, and I think the best way to tell you is to quote the doctor directly: "We would recommend at this time that we do not treat you any more, as the samples were all normal."

I need to take a moment and admit that I clapped my hands.

In between these two appointments, a former co-worker and friend of mine, Christine, came to visit. In a week, we saw Keighley, Leeds, York, Haworth/Moors, Newcastle, Edinburgh, and Manchester. You can see pics of that week here. Now I'm starting the countdown to our holiday in America in October, and thinking on ahead to our move back to America next Spring...but not too much. There's still allegedly a tiny bit of British Summer left to come, and if you blink you might miss it.

Don't blink.

It's a Journey...with lots of rest breaks.

2010-06-07T04:09:00.001-04:00

Following the path, Alnwick Gardens 2009
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I was writing a post for the other blog for which I am a writer, Touring Old Blighty, and came across the photo I've used for this post. There is a lot going on at the moment here at the Lettuce HQ. Some things I can discuss (my job, our plans to return to the US next year, Daisy's never ending love affair with custard cremes, thank you Simon!) and some I can't. The Hive of Angry Bees that live in my head have reached a fevered pitch over the past few weeks, and I found myself doing the only thing that I could do to calm them yesterday. I did nothing.

Seriously. The only strenuous exercise I undertook was lifting the laptop off the floor in the sitting room and placing it in my lap. My destination of choice? The two-seater with a view of the telly. Sorry, let me translate that for my American readers...I was on the loveseat watching TV. Simon joined me for part of my slugfest, then took on his own slugfest in the backyard with actual slugs. I hope he relocated them to new postcodes but in reality he probably just shoved them under the fence into the neighbor's back garden.

Right, back to my original point, why I chose this photo... This was taken at Alnwick (pronounced Ann-ick) Gardens in Northumberland last summer during my vacation with my inlaws. I took it because there is a photo in existance of Simon in the same spot a few years prior with considerably less greenery around him. Looking at it now, I not only am reminded of how much can change in a short time, but struck by how in the photo as in real life, the path draws me along to the end. The stresses, the problems, the issues (Ihs-shoos, innit?) are like the vines that continue to grow up and over the trellises. One day I will be able to look back on them and be amazed at the journey I've had.

I just have to remember the rest breaks.

Happy June, y'all.

2010-06-01T12:01:00.001-04:00

The Dunnes, minus one
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

In typical English fashion, the beginning of June has come in with a drizzly annoying rain to accompany it. You know, the kind of rain that means you can't really hang out washing. The kind that turns my hair from carefully straightened to a home perm circa 1980 in a split second, that kind of drizzly rain.

Not much to report, really. It's now been a year since I lost my Hunky man, and a year for Daisy as an only dog. Mills is still enjoying his own personal climbing frame, aka our stairs. The house remains on the market, and we've done some DIY (with much more to go) in the hopes of actually getting someone in the door that wants to buy it.

There are plans afoot for a move back across the ocean, but with the uncertainty of the house sale they're going to have to stay afoot for awhile longer. Eurovision was last weekend and was marvelous, wonderful, and totally kitchy as it always is. The UK's entry was abysmally out of tune and awful, and came in dead last. Better than nil pointe, I suppose.

On the 22nd we took a fantastic day trip to York to meet up with some other Americans. In a way, it made me want to give the UK another try and see if I can be happy here...but at the same time it made me remember what I missed...American accents, shared cultural references and experiences...oodles of advice and reassurance that my experience here has been normal for an expat.

So that's been my May, really. Onward and upward from here, yeah? Ah to be where I was last year, with no job to rule my schedule, but with the knowledge and courage to travel and experience that I didn't have last summer. Eh.

M is for May...and Mills

2010-05-20T09:36:00.001-04:00

And then he got even cuter!
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Twelve years ago, a perfect little orange tabby cat was born somewhere in the wilds of Spartanburg, SC. He and his littermates were retrieved from a dumpster and brought to the Spartanburg Animal Shelter...and soon after he reached through the bars of his cage and smacked me on the shoulder. He named himself, meowing loudly each time I said the word Mills when we passed Spartan Mills in the car.

Mills has outlived his feline housemates Franny and Zooey. He and Zooey were buddies as brothers often are, but he drove Franny round the bend, puffing up at her and dive bombing her from the back of the sofa. He has welcomed (with claws at the ready, mind you) six greyhounds who became permanent residents and countless others just passing through on their way to their own forever homes. He has become Daisy's shadow and not-so-welcome bosom companion since her status change to Single Dog.

He crawls across my head at night and nuzzles into my hair, purring like a freight train gone awry. He routinely gives lectures on the value of Giving Him Some Milk Right Now in the kitchen (especially when someone puts the kettle on). He would love to explore the back garden, and I'm positive he's keeping minions in the cellar. As I sit here, even now, he stands up and pats me on the arm with one of his paws for attention, then sits back down to guard the door.

Mills never left the house save a few emergency vet appointments in the first eight years of his life. From years nine through eleven he moved six times, one of those being a four thousand mile move to a new country. I think that all that moving has brought my timid little ginger kitten out of his shell. Well, shoved him out, if I'm honest.

No longer a figment of my imagination, he greets visitors from his perch at the bend in the staircase before fleeing to the safety of Under The Duvet. His reward for his 12 long years of service is a nightly nap in front of the gas fire...something he will surely miss when we move back to America next year.

Happy Birthday, my Little Man, my Orange Terror, my Punkin Kitty. Twelve years old this month...I've blinked and those twelve years are gone. Let's take the next twelve a bit more slowly, shall we?

Inspired by La Chat Noir...

2010-04-30T07:49:00.001-04:00

My first reading!
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

(who, by the way, is positively lovely and should be followed on Twitter and by way of her blog by the same name!)

This is a list of the top 100 best-loved novels as complied by the BBC in 2003 as a part of their "BigRead." How many have you read? I'm going to make it a late New Year's Res to read all the ones from here that I haven't already...the ones I've read will be marked with bold type.

1. The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
2. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen
3. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman
4. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
5. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, JK Rowling
6. To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
7. Winnie the Pooh, AA Milne
8. Nineteen Eighty-Four, George Orwell
9. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, CS Lewis
10. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë
11. Catch-22, Joseph Heller
12. Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë
13. Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks
14. Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier
15. The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger
16. The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame
17. Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
18. Little Women, Louisa May Alcott
19. Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Louis de Bernieres
20. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy
21. Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell
22. Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone, JK Rowling
23. Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets, JK Rowling
24. Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban, JK Rowling
25. The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien
26. Tess Of The D'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy
27. Middlemarch, George Eliot
28. A Prayer For Owen Meany, John Irving
29. The Grapes Of Wrath, John Steinbeck
30. Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
31. The Story Of Tracy Beaker, Jacqueline Wilson
32. One Hundred Years Of Solitude, Gabriel García Márquez
33. The Pillars Of The Earth, Ken Follett
34. David Copperfield, Charles Dickens
35. Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl
36. Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson
37. A Town Like Alice, Nevil Shute
38. Persuasion, Jane Austen
39. Dune, Frank Herbert
40. Emma, Jane Austen
41. Anne Of Green Gables, LM Montgomery
42. Watership Down, Richard Adams
43. The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald
44. The Count Of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas
45. Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
46. Animal Farm, George Orwell
47. A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens
48. Far From The Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy
49. Goodnight Mister Tom, Michelle Magorian
50. The Shell Seekers, Rosamunde Pilcher
51. The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett
52. Of Mice And Men, John Steinbeck
53. The Stand, Stephen King
54. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
55. A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth
56. The BFG, Roald Dahl
57. Swallows And Amazons, Arthur Ransome
58. Black Beauty, Anna Sewell
59. Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer
60. Crime And Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
61. Noughts And Crosses, Malorie Blackman
62. Memoirs Of A Geisha, Arthur Golden
63. A Tale Of Two Cities, Charles Dickens
64. The Thorn Birds, Colleen McCollough
65. Mort, Terry Pratchett
66. The Magic Faraway Tree, Enid Blyton
67. The Magus, John Fowles
68. Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
69. Guards! Guards!, Terry Pratchett
70. Lord Of The Flies, William Golding
71. Perfume, Patrick Süskind
72. The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, Robert Tressell
73. Night Watch, Terry Pratchett
74. Matilda, Roald Dahl
75. Bridget Jones's Diary, Helen Fielding
76. The Secret History, Donna Tartt
77. The Woman In White, Wilkie Collins
78. Ulysses, James Joyce
79. Bleak House, Charles Dickens
80. Double Act, Jacqueline Wilson
81. The Twits, Roald Dahl
82. I Capture The Castle, Dodie Smith
83. Holes, Louis Sachar
84. Gormenghast, Mervyn Peake
85. The God Of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
86. Vicky Angel, Jacqueline Wilson
87. Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
88. Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons
89. Magician, Raymond E Feist
90. On The Road, Jack Kerouac
91. The Godfather, Mario Puzo
92. The Clan Of The Cave Bear, Jean M Auel
93. The Colour Of Magic, Terry Pratchett
94. The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho
95. Katherine, Anya Seton
96. Kane And Abel, Jeffrey Archer
97. Love In The Time Of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez
98. Girls In Love, Jacqueline Wilson
99. The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot
100. Midnight's Children, Salman Rushdie

Happy Gotcha Day, Bean.

2010-04-29T16:41:00.001-04:00

Is there a problem?
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

10 years ago today I came home from a workshop to find a spooky little blond girl in the back of a crate in my basement. I opened the door and sat down outside, and in a few minutes the most beautiful greyhound I'd ever seen walked slowly out of the crate and put her face into my collarbone and sighed. Finally, she seemed to be saying, you're here to take care of me. A year ago I arrived in a new country, and the same blond girl hobbled over to me, sank her beautiful face into my shoulder, and sighed. Finally, I'm tired and I hurt, but you're here to take care of me.

Happy Gotcha Day, my Bridge Angel. I miss you.

Love,
Mommy

Hello from the St George's Day festival!

2010-04-26T09:18:00.001-04:00

Hello from the St George's Day festival!
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

As seen over at Touring Old Blighty, this is "Travels with Daisy, Part Two."

This installment really centers on the great days out you can find by checking on the market schedules in whichever part of the UK you're visiting.

This past weekend, Simon, Daisy and I had a fantastic time at the St. George's Day festival/market right here in Keighley. For those that aren't familiar, St. George is the patron saint of England, slayer of dragon and saviour of fair maiden (that was set up as a sacrifice to said dragon). On our lovely church green in the town centre was set up a market, demonstrations of medevial life/crafts/swordplay and food! We took Daisy with us and she was a star yet again, handling the crowd like a champ. We were also excited to check out the finished products from the Shorn Keighley project, where local artists painted sheep statues in honor of the rich history of the wool trade in this part of the country. It reminds me of the painted bulldogs in Athens, GA at the University of Georgia (go DAWGS! Sorry, Dave.).

While there are many attractions in the UK that will permit dogs (far more than in the US, I must admit), if you have a gorgeous day in England you should definitely take advantage of the weather and get out to some of the outdoor markets. You won't be disappointed, and you may find a treasure or two along the way. If you're lucky enough to be in the UK in the springtime, outdoor markets and festivals/faires are an absolute must because the weather is sunny but not boiling and all the plants are in bloom.

The next installment of Travels with Daisy will be a trip to Skipton this Friday that we've been trying to accomplish for two weeks now...fingers crossed the rain stays away!! We will be cruising the Skipton open market and hopefully heading up to Skipton Castle, which is a dog friendly attraction.

Lazy Days

2010-04-21T04:51:00.001-04:00

Mills loves the gas fire...
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

There's not a lot to report here at the Lettuce. Work continues as whateverisnormal for where I work. The house continues to not only NOT sell but NOT attract any potential buyers. Daisy continues to need a place to run full tilt and I continue to not have any options in that department. The weather continues to be weird and ever so chilly, and Mills continues to worship at the Gas Fire Altar most nights when I can sneak in and light it.

And speaking of the weather, one thing that seems to not be continuing is the ban on flights in and out of UK airspace...well, down south anyway. I think airports in my end of the country have been open since sometime yesterday, but I wouldn't swear to that. However, since the majority of the flights come through the London airports, that's what is getting the media attention.

Sorry, I need to take a second to remove my tongue from my cheek. It's painful.

There are lots of things that I just don't get about British/European life, but this week's drama with the airlines over the volcanic ash that grounded flights has me puzzled on many fronts, not the least of which being the overwhelming amount of whinging going on on television, radio and newspapers from people whose flights are grounded.

Oh, sorry, whinging=whining.

Really? I get that it's a first class pain when your travel plans are interrupted...when I lived in West Virginia for that one LONG year, there were plenty of times that I had to re-arrange my plans because there were no planes going anywhere near Charleston's airport (usually if someone suspected that there was a vague notion that there could possibly be something that slightly resembled frozen precipitation). But at the same time, I'm so very attached to the fact that I'm still alive that I had to be okay with the cancellations and delays. Give me stuck in an airport over dead next to a smoking pile of melted airplane engine any day.

Another bit that I don't get is the fact that UK travellers are being "rescued" from places that are accessible by train or car, but not from places that are, let's say, across an ocean like the US. It isn't the "why aren't they getting folks onto boats from the US, etc., and back to the UK" part I don't get...boat=slow, I got that part. But why are we sending boats to Spain? Isn't it connected by rail to France, which is further connected to the UK by train and ferry?

I know that on some level I should keep my mouth shut on this because I'm not stranded anywhere and none of my plans were disrupted by the volcano. (But now that I mention it, why doesn't this happen when I'm on holiday in the states?) But that leads me to the third thing I don't get...why has there been little to no coverage of what's going on in Iceland as a result of this major occurance? Are there people near the volcano who have lost lives or family or homes due to the eruption? Why are we so quick to worry about our flights and to forget, almost, that the volcano has possibly affected others in far more critical ways?

Much to ponder. I think I'll go turn on the fire.

Well, it is Friday after all...

2010-04-16T08:47:00.001-04:00

Well, it is Friday after all...
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

This month has been a time of great retrospection in the Dunne household. On 2nd April we celebrated Mills and Daisy's "Daddy Gotcha Day," marking one year from the day when a van pulled up behind our house and deposited four crates with a new pet owner. We wished that H and J were here with us to celebrate and talked about our favourite memories.

On 8th April we celebrated the one year anniversary of my arrival in Keighley, as well as the fact that even if we HAD a car, I could no longer drive legally on my American driver's license. We remembered how I had four checked bags and two pieces of hand luggage, and yet somehow made it from baggage claim to Lou's awaiting car without any of it falling off the trolley. Say what you will, but I am in possession of mad stacking skillz when it comes to luggage.

On 10th April we were quiet and remembered that it had now been a full year since our Jeany Bean left us. We again missed her, wished that she was still with us, and told our favourite stories. There was the one about how many times Simon would spoon feed her water, or the look she would give me when I dared bring her food she didn't like. We reminded Daisy of how she would run up to Jeany in the early days of their relationship, happy and bouncy, only to be backed up by the mere lifting of Jeany's lip.

Soon it will be time to wish my sister a happy...birthday (I won't say how old she is because then the addition of 5 to find how old I'll be on MY birthday would be just too easy, now wouldn't it?) and again to remember my Bean on the same day, for her Gotcha Day was Susan's birthday.

But for now, it's just Friday. The house hasn't sold. My rail pass has expired. We're going shopping tonight and to Nando's in Leeds for dinner after. Daisy is fine, Mills is sassy, and Simon and I are still crossing all appropriate appendages that we'll soon be announcing the countdown to a new Baby Dunne.

Life's not so bad on this Friday. And tomorrow, we'll go to the chippy in the picture there, and we'll do our grocery shopping and all that happens on weekends here in Keighley. Happy weekend, y'all.

As seen on NERDA's world...My Deaf Family

2010-04-07T04:38:00.003-04:00

Check it out, y'all. This is a fantastic idea for a reality show, and it's very well made to boot. Double props to Google for the automatic captioning!!

As Seen on Facebook: "Just so ya know..."

2010-03-30T18:14:00.001-04:00

She looks like a girl! On purpose!
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I am a democrat. I come from a family of democrats. I am probably the most left-leaning liberal democrat in my family, with my sister and her husband a close second.

I believe that it is our responsibility as those that have to care for those that don't. I don't particularly care WHY they don't have, all I need to know is that they are in need. If we have food, water, shelter, HEALTH CARE, medicines, or anything, really and someone else doesn't, it is our duty to share. I think Jesus might have had a comment to make about that, if you give to the least of these, that ring any bells?

I believe that it is none of my business if someone is gay or straight or bi or whatever. I am straight, and that works for me (and my husband, LOL). I believe that love is love, and that we don't get to choose with whom we will fall in love. You are born who you are. See above statement about how that is none of my business.

I believe VERY STRONGLY that it is not my place to judge. I leave that up to my Higher Power. If what you're doing works for you, fantastic. What I'm doing works for me. If what you're doing seriously gets in the way of what I'm doing, then we might have a problem...but it's nothing that can't be worked out.

It is all but futile to try and bend my views toward the more conservative side of the political fence. If there's a tree out there, you're going to see me hugging it. If there's a war going on, you can bet I'm opposed to it and am praying daily that all military personnel involved will come home safe and sound (on both sides) and it will end. I have a work ethic, I work for the money I bring home, and yet I still believe that I could be helping someone else more than I do.

Speaking of a Higher Power, I have no ideas or opinions that the one I choose to worship is the only right choice. I believe strongly that we all follow valid paths to the Divine. Churches that exclude me from their worship because of my denominational choice or my gender or for any other reason really bother me. Exclusion, in my mind, is not a path toward enlightenment.

I am an American. I will always be an American, even if at some point I hold citizenship in the United Kingdom. I will always speak like an American, although there may be bits of vocabulary and intonation that are most definitely British that creep into my speech. I did not care for Dubya and I am a strong and happy supporter of Obama.

Speaking of being an American, that does not mean that I own nor carry a gun. It does not mean that I am in favour of anything less than even tighter gun control laws than the US already has. It does not mean that any of my relatives are married to each other, nor does it mean that I am uneducated and backward. That last one goes double for the fact that I was born and raised in Georgia and consider South Carolina to be home.

I did not marry my husband because he is English. I married my husband because he is Simon.

I believe that sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never, ever hurt me unless I let them.

See What I'm Saying

2010-02-27T23:46:00.001-05:00

All I'm gonna say is I saw this movie finally and it blew me away. I've been on the email list, I'm a FB fan, and I couldn't believe that it was being premiered at UGA while I am in the states. GO SEE THIS MOVIE. I came away from it with a happy reminder of my second family, my second culture...and with stabbing, stinging pain at not being a part of that anymore. Go see the movie and hire a deaf entertainer. You'll be glad you did. Both.

Verbal Torrents in the Train

2010-02-11T11:55:00.001-05:00

Hello from COLD Keighley!
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I was taught, in my undergrad, that if you are ever in a room with a Deaf/HOH person that you should be signing if you can as well as/alongside of speaking. I attended Deaf Club events where I was one of only a few hearing people, and I got to feel what it was like to being the odd person out who doesn't understand the conversation.

Today, on my ride home on the train, I had a taste of that feeling again. I got on and started looking for a seat. First car was full to the gills so I moved on, but got stuck in the vestibule between cars. There were two women there with their pushchairs blocking most of the passage way through. They didn't notice me at first nor did they make any effort to clear the passage, so I stood on my toes to look past them into the next car. Seeing it was full, I let out a frustrated noise that unfortunately got their attention.

One of the women, looking at me like I'd sauntered over and snatched her bald-headed for blocking my way, started huffing about and trying to move her pushchair. I immediately apologized for my outburst and made it clear that the noise I'd made was frustration at the full train and NOT at them. I chose to stop talking before I said "...not at you two, since you're taking up all the room in this walkway and no one can get through due to your decision to not fold up your pushchairs, even though your children are in your arms..."

Anyway, I decided I'd just stand. It was only about 15 minutes to where I was going anyway. The women went back to their conversation...in French. Aha! I thought, that's why they looked at me like that, maybe they didn't understand me! I was all set to launch into self deprecating inner monologue, and to wonder when I could have ever become so arrogant as to assume everyone on a train would speak English, etc., when I happened to overhear something I recognized. I can't quote it exactly because my French is really abysmal at best, but the jist was that the one woman was wondering aloud why that stupid American had thought it was okay to talk to her in English.

Properly incensed, I glowered for the other nine and a half minutes until the train stopped. How dare she? How did she know I didn't speak French fluently? Etc. etc. etc...until the cold air hit me in the face and caused me to really think about what had happened. All I'd needed to say was "No no, that's okay," when she started to move the pushchair rather than, "No no, that's okay, you're fine where you are, that noise I made? That (insert sound of frustration here)? That totally wasn't at you, that was at the full train, that's all. Sorry about that." Yeah, I would have rolled my eyes at me too. Ugh.

But more importantly it reminded me that I never know who might sign, and if I'm going to say something I should make sure I can say it in front of whomever is around.

Hello from Daisy!

2010-02-07T08:15:00.001-05:00

Sort of, anyway…I was working on posts for my ASL VLOG, Nerda’s World, and Daisy came downstairs to see what I was doing. So, for those that know and miss the little Psycho…here she is:

Are you there Sock? It's me, Joy...

2010-02-01T08:16:00.001-05:00

I'm a funny baby!
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

My brother in law Dave beat me to the punch in sharing about something that happened while he and Susan and Joy were visiting us here in Yorkshire last month. Okay, let's call a spade a spade...I've had plenty of chances to write this post since they left, and just haven't. I could make excuses like "I missed them after they left and it was too painful to write" or "I've been up to my ears with work and getting the house ready to be viewed" or even "my trial sub of MSOffice expired and I lost data," but the truth is that I have been neglecting my Lettuce. And so, in a sort of an echo, let me share with you the rest of the story that Dave cleverly wove into his sermon yesterday.

We were sitting around being amazed that Joy has learned several words, not the least of which is "sock." Susan was keen to show me, while changing Joy's nappy, that she can now keep my perfect niece occupied by asking her what her socks are called and waiting for Joy to respond. It's always a good idea to keep a 13 month old occupied as often as you can, because it lessens the number of times said cherub wiggles off of whatever he or she is perched on in a desperate attempt to GET AWAY.

The conversation shifted to include the fact that, as Dave mentioned, Joy has yet to say Mama directed at Susan. I heard her say it a few times, but it wasn't while she stared adoringly at my sister. More realistically she said it to her mittens, but at least she's saying it. She calls everything either socks or kitties (imagine Daisy's reaction, since to her kitty is something bad that will scratch her eyeballs out, when Joy toddled over and lovingly called her KitKee!) or Dada. Simon mentioned that maybe he thought Joy was just calling Susan "Sock" because, after all, it starts with an S and seems to be something that Joy loves.

My imagination was lit like a powder keg. I mentioned the name of the book that Dave talks about in his blog, but also said that I could imagine Joy in about 13 years, an emotionally turbulent and possibly petulant teenager, gazing into her sock drawer, brows furrowed and knuckles white..."Are you there Sock? It's Me, Joy...why won't you answer me???"

Okay, maybe it was only funny to us.

We had a great time with Susan and Dave and Joy. I had thought and planned and worried over what we could do while they were here to make them absolutely LOVE the part of England where we live...but it turns out that wasn't what the visit was about at all. It was about hanging out with family. It was about watching Joy experience a new country. It was about taking notes for when Simon and I take trips with the children we hope to have.

And it was about the smile you see on that little face in the picture above, and the laughter that followed.

Love you, Dave, Joy, and especially you, Sock. To absolute bits. Thanks for a fantastic visit. See you in a few weeks!

The Beginning, at the End.

2009-12-31T13:49:00.001-05:00

Hello from Boxing Day.
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

It's almost 2010. Twenty-ten, two thousand ten, or next year, whatever you want to call it, it's almost here. As usual, I've got a handful of resolutions that mostly have to do with my weight, how I eat, and my attitude in general. None of those will last past the end of the day tomorrow, but there is one that I'm going to try my best to keep. 2010 is going to be the year that I go back to writing.

I have so many ideas floating around in my head. Novels, short stories, epic adventures and children's picture books. This year my focus will be on sorting through the hive of bees in my head and making some strides toward categorizing and committing them to paper.

I'm easing myself back into this mindset by reading. I hate to use this analogy but I can't think of a better one...I'm like Helen Keller at the water pump. I can't stop wanting to read, and for once I'm reading all sorts of things rather than my usual sci-fi/fantasy books. It's the words...I truly can't get enough of the words. I can't wait to see how things will be described or what one character will say to another.

I'm blogging more, and in two languages. I've gone back to my ASL V-log, Nerda's World, and I have every good intention of keeping up with it this time.

2010 is going to be the year of re-kindling my literary fire. I'd lost my voice, in terms of my writing, for many years and I'm so happy to see it coming over the horizon, headed for home. Just wait and see what happens when it finally crosses the threshold. I know I can't wait.

Happy New Year, Lettuce-Heads. See you in the new decade.

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it...Well, you get the idea...

2009-12-22T13:37:00.000-05:00

The latest from Old Blighty

2009-12-21T15:26:00.001-05:00

Hello from frozen Keighley railway station!
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Please ignore my lack of lips in that picture and enjoy my latest contribution to Touring Old Blighty:

"Number Eleven for Christmas in Yorkshire"

I work in retail (in a mall) and my store is a bus and two trains away. The other day I was working and had popped down to the food court in the mall for some lunch, when I was treated to some lovely Christmas carols performed by a brass band set up by the entrance to Morrisons. Then today, as I was coming down the escalator at Leeds station, in a hurry and admittedly cranky with the crowds of shoppers and people with large luggage traveling for the holidays, I had a chance to be still and just listen. A brass band was playing Christmas Carols outside of the ticket barrier, and I will further admit to missing the Carlisle train because I lingered there, under the big board, feeling more in the Christmas spirit than I had all day.

I'm a sucker for a brass band, and I'm lucky to live in Yorkshire where bands come in all shapes and sizes and ages, from the colliery bands still playing together despite the end of that era to the village bands that blend old and young performers. But there's something about "Ding Dong Merrily on High" played by a brass band in the acoustic perfection that is a concrete and glass railway station that would make Scrooge and the Grinch both smile. Merry Christmas from the land of whippets, flat caps, and brass bands!

My Avatar Experience

2009-12-21T15:21:00.001-05:00

I see you...
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I want to start this by saying that I was stunned and amazed and thrilled by the graphics and the effects in Avatar. The movie is visually beautiful, the creatures on the created world of Pandora are surprising and the language Cameron created for the natives has the lilt of a cross between Tolkien's Elvish and modern Gaelic.

I don't want to say too much about the move for the folks who haven't already figured out where the plot will be heading and want a surprise. Fair enough. However, I want to comment on the biggest complaint I had with the movie and I'm able to do that without spoiling it for those of you that haven't seen it yet.

I just want to pause for a moment here and say that if you have the chance to see the movie in 3D and/or IMAX, please do it. You'll be glad you did. I caught myself almost swatting insects, the 3D is so convincing.

Right, back to my complaint. I will say openly that now that I'm outside of the US I have become a bit sensitive about the portayal of the Average American in the media and toward the ideas that other nationals have about us. I consider myself to be more or less an average American, albeit a very liberal democrat American. My complaint is that the team of humans that were mining on Pandora, the military presence that resorted to violence at the drop of a hat and packed some serious firepower, and even the scientists who wanted to improve the lives of the natives by setting up schools for them...they were all American. I know that it's an American movie that was made in America by an American director/producer/writer/whathaveyou, but a multinational cast might be more representative of where humanity will be at that point in the future.

I see the effects of this kind of portrayal every day. Several months ago an Englishman told me that he didn't think that Obama would be in office long enough to make any positive changes because "He'll get assassinated. That's what you lot do in America, you shoot people." Today a customer at work insinuated that my family could help me find a book once he learned that I was born in Atlanta. The book was about reloading guns.

Anyway, if you can make it in to see Avatar at an IMAX, do it. The effects will blow you away...while the Americans on screen do the same.

This Week's Article on Touring Old Blighty

2009-12-11T10:39:00.004-05:00

(Otherwise known as my other blogging venture...click the link in the title to read more!)

Disclaimer: Unlike most "Top Ten" lists, this one is in no particular order and draws its results from nothing more than this ex-pat's experience of her first Christmas season in the UK. Do with as you will.

10. Christmas adverts on the television.

Starting in about late September, there were "holiday" adverts on the television. (Yes, those who think that all British TV is advert free, we DO have them on some channels...mostly the ones NOT controlled by the British Broadcasting Compay.) Those tended to be filled with reminders that "the holiday season is just around the corner" but were delightfully void of "make your layaway purchases now!" advice. However, following Halloween, Christmas adverts have been appearing all over the telly, and some of them are just spectacular. While it can be said that Christmas is even more commericalised here than it is in the US (if that's even possible) and that the "Reason for the Season" is left out, I don't completely agree. The adverts show warm, happy, scenes of home, with people gathering and celebrating together. Now, granted that leaves out the Christian reason for the season, but it promotes giving and what I think to be family values. One such example, included for your viewing pleasure, is the following lovely John Lewis advert.

9. Christmas Displays in Shop Windows

Of course, this is not limited to the UK, but I have seen some positively fantastic window displays in shops here since around the middle of November. Moving parts, music, lights - nothing seems to be too much when you're talking window displays. However, what has impressed me is the participation in what seems to be more commonplace here than the US. I'll give you two examples of what I mean: first, I work for a retail shop and the company policy is to make all the windows across the country look the same. The idea is that continuity brings with it a certain amount of familiarity and therefore brand-trust. Makes sense. However, some of the branches, mine included, have large, walk-in front windows (or fall-in, if you're me) and the staff were visibly disappointed at the notion that we will not be decorating the window beyond the bits sent to us (and all branches) by corporate. To my lazy American mind this was joyous news indeed...they tell us what to put in the window and we do it. But my colleagues were telling wonderful stories about Christmases past and staying at the store well past closing to work on window decorations - and I admit to feeling a bit cheated that I wasn't there "back when."

8. Christmas Light Displays and City-Wide Christmas Light Switch-Ons.

Perhaps I didn't live in an area in the US that felt as strongly about switching on their Christmas Lights. Greenville, SC, where I lived until immigrating back in April, had fantastic fairy lights in all the trees downtown - that are on year round. There were of course banners and extra lights added to the streetlights, etc. downtown, but I think the big "thing" in the US is the Christmas parade.

The big thing here is the celebration and official Switch On of the town/city/village's Christmas lights every year. It happens in late November/early December, and I'm ashamed to admit that I missed it for Keighley because I was just feeling a bit too homesick that day to go watch anything Christmas-related. The celebrations range from a local band playing to lavish stage shows and last several hours, the climax of each being some local celebrity pushing a big button or throwing an oversized switch that lights up the big Christmas tree (and other lights in the town, I would imagine). Each place has their own unique thing that they do for Christmas, and I'm pleased to share with you my husband's favourite bit from the town centre here in Keighley (shot yesterday afternoon on my way home from work):

7. Mince Pies (if you like sultanas, that is).

Personally, I don't care for them, but my husband (and other friends, I must admit) giggle with glee when these precious little pastries first appear on store shelves in late November. A mince pie, according to Wikipedia, is "A mince pie (sometimes also minced, minced meat, or mincemeat pie) is a British festive sweet pastry, traditionally consumed during the Christmas and New Year period. Mince pies are filled with mincemeat – a preserve typically containing apple, dried fruits such as raisins and sultanas, spices, and either suet or vegetable shortening."

These things are the stuff of legend, and I'd always compared them to the frightening and traditional fruit cake that is served, feared, and probably re-gifted throughout the US at Christmas. (I have a theory that there are only a few fruit cakes in the US, and those few have been circulated across the country for years.) But where the fruit cake is a joke, mince pies are beloved. I can say that I've tried them and sadly my distaste for raisins and anything similar keeps me from enjoying them, but they are a much anticipated treat here and I felt, as such, they deserved mention.

6. Christmas Specials on Television.

Now I'm not referring here to Andy Williams or The Osmonds. These have little to do with Bing Crosby, a contrived sitting room with Christmas decorations, or two hours of back to back Christmas carols. The Christmas Specials I'm talking about are the episodes of popular programs such as Doctor Who, Two Pints, and others that have specific Christmas themes and sometimes last longer than a normal episode. The Doctor Who specials, for example, are must-see-TV and often herald the new series that will start in the new year by dropping hints or introducing new recurring characters. Other programs use the Christmas special to bring back former characters or craft an entirely different story that has nothing to do with what's going on in the regular series. It's like a Christmas present from the show, and while some programs in the US have similar ideas I see this as unique to British television.

5. Nativity Plays in School.

Have you seen Love Actually? Do you remember the lobster and octopus that rode to the Nativity Play with Hugh Grant and Martine McCutcheon? While I understand that schools in the US also perform "Christmas Programs" just before the winter break (having been a participant in them myself many many years ago), I find it charming and just lovely that the schools put so much thought and time into their Christmas programming. I also find it, I will admit, a bit astonishing the amount of Christianity in the plays and pageants, but then I am reminded that I am living in a country now with a State religion, the Church of England.

4. It's Flippin' Cold!!

If you didn't grow up having Christmas in the southern part of the United States, then this item won't mean as much to you as it does to me. The temperature outside at Christmas when I was young could range from the 30sF to the 70sF, and I can't remember a single one where we've had snow. There was ice occasionally, and it's not nearly as beautiful and magical as one would think to have one's yard turn into a skating rink. Also, having grown up watching people on TV shiver and pull up their collars around their ears while out Christmas shopping or warm up with a mug of cider or eggnog around a roaring fire while singing Christmas carols, I felt a bit cheated every year when my Christmas included iced tea and shorts (indoors at least).

I'm paying for all that envy in spades now that I live in the UK. Man alive is it cold here! The wind is gusty (if only to remind you that this is, after all, an island) and the air is frosty. It FEELS like Christmas here and has since about October, off and on. We have our odd warm days where the mercury climbs to a scorching 60 degrees and I see people outdoors in shorts, but those are few and far between. In fact, I've found myself thinking that I don't need my hat if it's not going to be below about 2C outside (35F) because I'll be warm enough without it. When I lived in the states I didn't go outside unless I had to when it was that cold!

But oddly enough, the British tendency to "Keep Calm and Carry On" seems to be rubbing off on me and I truly am not minding the cold as much as I did just after I moved here or two years ago when I visited over Christmas/New Year. It's all about layers, public transport, and lots of cups of Yorkshire tea, friends.

3. German and Otherwise Christmas Markets

One of the best parts of living in the UK, in my opinion, is the abundance of markets. Keighley, for example, has a Farmer's Market on the third Sunday of every month that is set up on the Church Green and has some of the best of local produce, butchers, and crafts. These markets happen every day of the year somewhere in the country. However, as Christmas draws near the items on offer change as the markets themselves change. There are "German Christmas Markets" that set up in cities across the UK and this website, Christmas Markets.com, has a pretty comprehensive listing of "European Christmas Markets," including offers for coach trips and mini-breaks (flight and all) to some of the markets around Europe.

Keighley's Christmas Market is this weekend and I'm anxious to see how different it is from the regular Farmer's Market. Wakefield, where I work, has a German Christmas Market (complete with bratwurst!!) that sets up around the Wakefield Cathedral and has been running every day for about two weeks now. I see the stalls with their festive red and white roofs on my way into work in the morning, and can smell the brats cooking on my way home in the afternoon. Leeds has a well-known Christkindelmarkt as well that runs into the evening, so it's a must-see on the Thursday Late Night Shopping trips during the Christmas season.

2. Panto

For number two I had to think about something that my husband loves about Christmas in the UK that you don't find in the US. This entry, I must admit, puzzles me slightly and makes me feel like an outsider because I just don't get it. From our good friend, Wikipedia, we find this entry on Pantomime or "Panto" as it is called:

Traditionally performed at Christmas, with family audiences consisting mainly of children and parents, British pantomime is now a popular form of theatre, incorporating song, dance, buffoonery, slapstick, cross-dressing, in-jokes, audience participation, and mild sexual innuendo. There are a number of traditional story-lines, and there is also a fairly well-defined set of performance conventions. Lists of these items follow, along with a special discussion of the 'guest celebrity' tradition, which emerged in the late 19th century.

It is not uncommon during Christmas to see hordes of children being shepherded by tired and slightly frantic-looking teachers on public transport, headed for the local theatre to see the Christmas Panto. It is a huge deal every year to see which TV celebs are appearing in which Pantos. My husband has already been checking into tickets for us to see one in Leeds, I think, so I can report more if that happens. If I'm honest, though, it isn't a Christmas tradition that I'm looking to join anytime soon.

1. Christmas Crackers

Last year my husband and I celebrated Christmas at the home of my sister, Susan, and her husband Dave (also known as the other part of TOB) and he made sure we had some British traditions on hand to make my husband feel at home. One of those is one of my favourite things about Christmas in the UK: Christmas Crackers. Again I turn to Wikipedia for a bit of history of the Christmas Cracker:

"Crackers were invented by Thomas J. Smith of London in 1847. He created the crackers as a development of his bon-bon sweets, which he sold in a twist of paper (the origins of the traditional sweet-wrapper). As sales of bon-bons slumped, Smith began to come up with new promotional ideas. His first tactic was to insert mottos into the wrappers of the sweets (cf. fortune cookies), but this had only limited success.

He was inspired to add the "crackle" element when he heard the crackle of a log he had just put on the fire. The size of the paper wrapper had to be increased to incorporate the banger mechanism, and the sweet itself was eventually dropped, to be replaced by a small gift. The new product was initially marketed as the Cosaque (i.e., Cossack), but the onomatopoeic "cracker" soon became the commonly used name, as rival varieties were introduced to the market. The other elements of the modern cracker, the gifts, paper hats and varied designs, were all introduced by Tom Smith's son, Walter Smith, to differentiate his product from the many copycat cracker manufacturers which had suddenly sprung up."

Sadly we can't take them back and forth from the US to the UK because of the "banger" mechanism mentioned above - TSA tends to frown on exploding bits in luggage - so last year Dave bought them at a British shop stateside. I have to say I love this tradition and I don't even mind wearing the paper hats found inside the crackers.

Happy Christmas!!

As Seen on Touring Old Blighty...

2009-12-11T10:39:00.000-05:00

Disclaimer: Unlike most "Top Ten" lists, this one is in no particular order and draws its results from nothing more than this ex-pat's experience of her first Christmas season in the UK. Do with as you will.

10. Christmas adverts on the television.

9. Christmas Displays in Shop Windows

8. Christmas Light Displays and City-Wide Christmas Light Switch-Ons.

7. Mince Pies (if you like sultanas, that is).

6. Christmas Specials on Television.

5. Nativity Plays in School.

4. It's Flippin' Cold!!

3. German and Otherwise Christmas Markets

2. Panto

Traditionally performed at Christmas, with family audiences consisting mainly of children and parents, British pantomime is now a popular form of theatre, incorporating song, dance, buffoonery, slapstick, cross-dressing, in-jokes, audience participation, and mild sexual innuendo. There are a number of traditional story-lines, and there is also a fairly well-defined set of performance conventions. Lists of these items follow, along with a special discussion of the 'guest celebrity' tradition, which emerged in the late 19th century.

1. Christmas Crackers

"Crackers were invented by Thomas J. Smith of London in 1847. He created the crackers as a development of his bon-bon sweets, which he sold in a twist of paper (the origins of the traditional sweet-wrapper). As sales of bon-bons slumped, Smith began to come up with new promotional ideas. His first tactic was to insert mottos into the wrappers of the sweets (cf. fortune cookies), but this had only limited success.

He was inspired to add the "crackle" element when he heard the crackle of a log he had just put on the fire. The size of the paper wrapper had to be increased to incorporate the banger mechanism, and the sweet itself was eventually dropped, to be replaced by a small gift. The new product was initially marketed as the Cosaque (i.e., Cossack), but the onomatopoeic "cracker" soon became the commonly used name, as rival varieties were introduced to the market. The other elements of the modern cracker, the gifts, paper hats and varied designs, were all introduced by Tom Smith's son, Walter Smith, to differentiate his product from the many copycat cracker manufacturers which had suddenly sprung up."

In Which Nancy DOESN'T Watch Where She's Walking

2009-12-07T05:54:00.001-05:00

Finally! A Sign that Gets Me.
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

It was a Saturday morning just like any other in the UK...Cold, dreary, and potentially rainy. Simon and I bundled up Daisy in her coat (thank you, Rebecca and Dave!) and then bundled up ourselves and headed out to the post office to retrieve our Christmas cards that had arrived. We headed for Oakworth Road post office which requires a walk through the park, nothing really earthshaking.

Then I saw them...we were almost to the park and I saw a gorgeous Alsatian and another bull terrier type dog and somehow forgot my own clumsiness and lack of walking ability. I had just said to Simon that the Alsatian was lovely and "ooh look there's another one too!" when my toe struck the curb rather than cleared it. Next thing I remember is being on my hands and knees on the pavement, left palm stinging and both knees on fire. Bless him, Simon was very concerned and was trying to help me get up, and all I could do was hiss at him that I was fine and could we keep moving please?

Luckily, when I "went straight over like a stone," (Simon's account of my swan dive onto the pavement) I didn't let go of Daisy's leash nor did I fall on her. I should really not be allowed out of the house. We managed to pick up the Christmas cards and get back home, and all I have to show for my adventure is a scraped and bruised left hand, some bruises on my right knee, and a stiff-legged walk that could only be made more pitiful by a walker or a cane.

At least I wasn't having to figure out which way the traffic was coming at the same time or I might have a concussion as well.

Piano Lessons and Happy Birthdays

2009-12-03T12:37:00.002-05:00

A year ago this past Tuesday I was working at the University of Georgia. I had a class in the Poultry Sciences building to interpret and was running up the hill between Clark Howell Hall and the Chemistry/Biology block of buildings because, per usual, I was late getting to campus. My phone went off in my pocket and I simultaneously pulled my iPod earpiece out and slammed the phone against my head. Breathing like something off a bad B movie, I answered the phone and heard the most wonderful news I'd heard to date: "Joy is here!"

A year ago this past Tuesday something incredible and remarkable happened. My sister and her husband had their daughter, my niece, Joy. Now, I've had nieces and nephews and god-daughters before, but this time it was different. Joy is my sister's child. She's my niece. And she's perfect.

I can't believe she's a year old now or that I wasn't there to celebrate with her on her special day...but I'll see her next month when her parents take her on her first trip to the UK. Until then, join me as I enjoy her piano "lesson" with me back in October of this year. Miss you, Joy, Auntsie loves you to absolute bits.

Thanksgiving, 2009

2009-11-29T14:19:00.001-05:00

Ooh, this is good!
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

My sister in law Liz and I threw our English inlaws a Thanksgiving meal yesterday to both celebrate American Thanksgiving but also to celebrate my and my niece (her daughter)'s birthday which was Friday. We had a plan, and then decided to throw caution to the wind and just go tot he store with a vague idea of what we wanted to cook instead of a grocery list.

Our menu consisted of roast turkey breasts, mashed potatoes with onions and sour cream, Caramel and Praline Sweet Potatoes (a brand new dish making its debut at this meal due to the lack of maple syrup or treacle in our sister in law Louise's cupboard), cranberry sauce, my mom's cornbread dressing, cornbread, a bad attempt at green bean casserole, peas and carrots for the kids, with pies and cakes for dessert. It was fantastic!!

I still don't completely feel like I didn't miss Thanksgiving. But I do feel like I know my inlaws a bit better and we had a fabulous time. The funniest part was how surprised they all seemed to be with how full they felt afterward. That's just part of Thanksgiving!!!

SARAH PALIN BOOK SIGNING - Interviews with Supporters

2009-11-24T08:25:00.001-05:00

God Bless America. We're clearly gonna need it.

It's not time for Christmas yet!!

2009-11-16T18:54:00.001-05:00

pilgrims
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Anyone who knows me well knows that We Do Not Decorate for Christmas Before Thanksgiving/Nancy's Birthday (whichever comes last on the calendar). As I child I remember clearly thinking that my birthday (27th November, in case you're keeping track) had been forgotten when people jumped on ahead to Christmas. Nothing red nor green was hung in my parents' house until at least November 28th.

Apparently the UK didn't get the memo. Now, to be fair, there is no Thanksgiving Holiday in the UK, but still...Christmas things were being hung here and there and surreptitiously mentioned on the television and internet back in October. October! That's the month for spooks and haunts, people, not Dasher and Dancer, for pete's sake!

I may not be at home for Thanksgiving this year (or Christmas, for that matter) but I'm still celebrating. Liz's daughter and I share the same birthday, so for our birthday dinner we're having American Thanksgiving! Turkey, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, the works...providing Liz and I can get everything done without burning Louise's kitchen to the ground, that is. I'm excited about sharing part of what makes me, me with my in-laws as well as just having a family get-together...to me that's more of what Thanksgiving is than a meal, and it's what I will miss this year about not being with my family.

After that, we can start celebrating Christmas...and shopping.

New Foray into Expat Nerdiness

2009-11-13T21:18:00.001-05:00

patriotism
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Just wanted to let you guys know about an exciting new blog I'm working with called Touring Old Blighty. I'm one of the collaborating authors and focus on both the UK as seen by an American expat AND pet friendly travel in the UK. I'm very excited to have the opportunity, but promise not to forget you, my 5-10 Loyal Lettuce Readers.

You have a title now. Please feel free to use it in social situations and put it on business cards. Folks will be impressed, I'm sure of it.

My insomnia continues, and tonight I'm pondering something that we got at the grocery store today...squash. Not the veggie that is oh-so frequently present in "seasonal vegetables" served alongside a main entree at a chain restaurant, nor the strange game that looks like tennis gone mad. I'm talking about fruit juice that is so highly concentrated that you can add, according to my husband, a capful to water and PRESTO you've got orange juice (or whatever kind of squash you prefer, I chose the orange over Strawberry/Kiwi or Apple/ Blackcurrant).

Fellow expats, British readers, and basically anyone that's tried this super duper non-refrigerated alternative to good old orange juice...answer me this: is it going to taste like Tang? It smells a bit like Tang. Not that I have anything against Tang, it's served our astronauts and millions of kids in 1970's America well. But it's not orange juice, regardless of the pulp level or brand name.

I think it's time to try to sleep, don't you?

Travel and other Developments

2009-11-12T21:15:00.001-05:00

Looking Awesomeville in Dawsonville
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Before you say that Simon and I have reached a new low in Strange Hat Photography, let me just say that I was overtaken by the Awesomeville that IS Dawsonville and Simon put the hat on me when I wasn't looking. I mean how could I be looking? I have those huge sunglasses on after all. In November. Indoors.

We are back from our two weeks away in America, and as always I am of several minds when looking back on the trip. There is, and will always be, a huge part of my heart and soul that wanted to stay there and just send Simon back to collect Daisy and Mills and bring them home to the US. This time back I also had a strange feeling that I was in a foreign country, not like last summer when I felt that I was finally back home. Strange that, because I still feel like I'm in a foreign country here in the UK.

I remember before we left thinking how nice it would be to grocery shop in the US again, and commented to Simon how it would be "easy" because I'd know where everything was. Amazing how I was looking for Flora, Tango, and other British brands at Ingles and getting frustrated when I couldn't find them.

Anyway, we had a marvelous time, including trips to the Carolina Renaissance Festival (my home away from home and huge part of my family of choice), the World of Coke (I tried the Beverly, y'all. It was WRONG.), the Georgia Aquarium, and my 20th high school reunion.

I know, the hat in the picture there makes me not look a day over 10 years out of high school, doesn't it?

Simon attended his first American football game, and we had a great time the next night catching up with my high school buddies over dinner. It was funny to me how we all came into the restaurant in a mass, then seemed to separate into the same groups we were in back at CHS when it came time to sit down to eat.

I had the predictable and never ever pretty meltdowns over, I think, being a stranger in my home country. One was at Target/Mecca, when I bought on a whim a new duffel bag to replace one of the ones we brought over that wasn't going to hold all my winter clothes we were planning to take back. I got out to the car with it, and promptly marched back in to return it...only to find that the cashier hadn't charged me for the carry on that I bought at the same time, so I went BACK in again to pay for that. I should have taken the bag and run, I know, but I love Target and didn't want to feel like Undesireable Number One (thanks, JKR) when I shopped there in future.

Meltdown two came as we were loading the car, and three happened as we took off from Atlanta in the rain. After a bumpy and cramped ride back to Manchester, we came home to Keighley and resumed life today...if I'm "fun" at work on normal then I must have been a riot today on jet lag.

Clicking on the picture above will take you to the photo album from our trip. Thanks unending to Susan and Dave and Joy and Mom and Dad and Katy and Kurt and Leah and Anne and the CRF Cast and the Hounds of East Fairhaven and the Commerce High School Class of 1989 for a fab time. See you all in March...well, some of you anyway.

I wonder if I can sleep now?

Of Store Windows and Bad Dog Owners

2009-10-22T06:31:00.001-04:00

Daisy's Eyes
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Okay, here's what really happened. I was helping a colleague of mine to replace the posters in the anti-theft thingys at the front of our store yesterday. The back sides of two of them are slam up against the entrances to our store windows, both of which were open because another colleague was working on the window displays. I hopped up onto the opening created by the ajar door on the left hand window and the height helped me reach the top of the thing. Because the floor slopes downward, the right hand window's floor is much lower than the left...a tidy fact that I failed to take into account when I sat on the ledge of said lower window.

I leaned back to sit down on the floor of the window, only to find that instead of a few inches away it was about two feet away. BLAMMO. Landed on my back like some kind of crazed turtle, laughing my face off and leaving my poor colleague (who soon joined me laughing) to wonder if I'd hit my head on the way down, I'm sure. Today I'm a bit sore on my back and neck and feel like I've scraped the backs of my knees, but otherwise I'm none the worse for wear.

And Julian, it had nothing to do with the Benadryl. Okay, maybe a little. Teensy bit.

The Benadryl I'm taking to combat a particularly nasty allergic reaction to new washing powder has left me in a haze...an emotional, quick to react, haze. I managed to make it to the bus station early to catch the bus home last night (no small feat considering after 6:30pm they only run once an hour and I didn't even leave Wakefield till 6:40!) and plopped myself down in one of the seats to read while I waited. A man and woman that I see frequently around Keighley came into the bus station with their two dogs.

Now I'm going to pause here and say quickly that I know that not everyone feels that dogs are members of the family and that we have a duty to care for them when we take them into our homes...but I do, and under normal circumstances I am appalled at the treatment of dogs I see on a daily basis around my neighborhood. Just down from us I saw a woman beating the fool out of her dog one day for I don't know what...I made a comment about how dogs respond better to love than abuse and she took the poor thing inside her house. Most of the time I can hold my tongue and not let myself get too involved in the things I see...I have to, because if I don't it honestly hurts my soul.

The man and woman were waiting on the same bus as I was. Someone that I assume they know came over to talk to them and squatted down to pet the dogs. He had no issue petting the male, but when he paid attention to the female the male barked at him. Reasonable reaction, really...they are clearly using these two for breeding (from the state of the female's body every time I see her!) and the male thinks the female is his. The visitor backed up and headed on to his bus stand. The man hit the male dog with whatever was in his hand so hard that the dog yelped and immediately assumed a very submissive posture. The man then looked each of us at the stand in the eye in turn, making comments about how he can't have that dog barking like that and next time the dog will know better, etc. Later on, as we all still were waiting to leave on the bus, I saw the female dog sniffing at something and the woman literally kicked the poor thing off it's feet to stop.

But did I say anything? NO. I will admit here and freely to anyone that asks that I am a coward, and people who will do that to their animals scare me. But at the same time I, in the aforementioned Benadryl haze, was almost in tears thinking about those poor dogs. They look to their humans to take care of them and provide them with safety, and in return they are hit and kicked. I don't know how anyone can look into the eyes of an animal and do it any kind of harm...I know that I could not look at those eyes in the photo there and do anything but fall in love.

Next time I see them I hope that I will be brave...I hope that I will be un-Benadryled and close to an authority figure like a police person...and that I will have hit my head hard enough in the store window to report them and hopefully make life better for their dogs.

Lemons and Lemonade

2009-10-12T06:51:00.001-04:00

Lou says "Surprise!"
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Last Thursday was a pretty normal day. We were getting ready to head up to the Northeast on Saturday to surprise Simon's mom for her birthday, and I'd gone for a much needed hair appointment. I sprinted from the salon to the bus station, made the bus, and got home...and decided that Friday evening and Saturday morning were PLENTY of time to finish laundry and packing and tidying the house for Simon's friend to spend the night and watch Daisy for us.

Lemon Number One: Friday morning before he left for work, Simon popped our duvet cover and spare sheets into the wash so that his friend would have a clean bed to share with Daisy. I went down around 8am to take that out and put some clothes in, and found that the washer was standing in water. Not good, and not the first time it's done that. Did I mention it is a front loader? Kitchen was nearly standing in water as well! I removed the duvet cover and started the thing again with just a sheet left inside in the hopes that it would drain. I checked on it as I was leaving for work and found it again standing in water but THIS time, as a special bonus, the water was foamy. At least I learned my lesson from the first waterfall and left the door shut.

Lemon Number Two: Friday night we had a mandatory training at work...after work...on Friday night. I got out of there at about quarter to eight, caught two well timed trains, and made it to Keighley in time to RUN to the bus station in the hopes of catching the 9pm bus to home (after 6:30 pm, really, the buses only run once every hour). Once again, however, I found myself at the bus station as the flipping bus was pulling out of the station...literally, I made EYE CONTACT with the driver as he left the stand. You can imagine my joy at the mile long walk home in the dark.

Lemon Number Three: To quote my husband, our washing machine is "completely buggered." Bless him, he went out Friday night in search of a laundrette so that we'd have bedding for Ste and underclothes for ourselves and all were closed, so he had to go back Saturday morning. We left for the Northeast about an hour later than we'd planned due to having to wait on the tumble dryers at the laundrette.

Lemonade: Look at the expression on my mother in law's face in that photo. She had no idea that all four of her children, two daughters in law, one son in law, and three granddaughters were coming to take her to dinner for her birthday, and we could hear her almost squealing when she opened the door and found the girls there, claiming to be lost. (The adults were all in various states of crouch behind the hedge.) She wore that grin for most of the night and into the next morning. Simon's entire family has been so kind to me since I got here in April, and his parents have welcomed me into their family like I've always been there. Good times and nothing but lemonade.

Brrrr!

2009-09-26T06:17:00.001-04:00

cold post
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

Okay, it's not quite as cold here as in the picture, but in the past week the temperature has dropped considerably. It's like the weather was trying to stretch out just a bit more summer, realised that it's just a few days from October, and BAM! Colder weather. The days are markedly shorter...it's now dark-ish at 5:30pm and YIKES DARK by 7pm. I know that we're WAY farther north than where I used to live in the states, but it's still a bit shocking how fast the change seems to come on. Last week I'd wear a scarf on the way in to work and be sweating on the way back with my jacket on but not buttoned. Just yesterday my nails were turning blue because I'd forgotten my gloves.

With the cold weather I'm starting to notice the difference between houses with double glazing and those, like mine, without it. Thankfully we have the fireplace in the sitting room or I'd be completely unable to watch television there without a wool jumper and possibly the duvet from the bed. Once the fireplace is turned off (it's gas), the heat is sucked out of the room and it goes back to it's recently constant state of "It's chilly in here." We don't turn the "central heating" on until October, it seems...though I'm not entirely sure that I would call radiators on the walls that don't have blowers the same thing that I'm used to calling "central heating." (I may have to take shorts and a swimsuit to the US next month to deal with the temperature of my parents' house after getting used to always being mildly cold here!!)

As far as daily life here goes, I continue to plod along through my new life. I'm getting used to the idea that the English Nancy is a totally different person than the American Nancy, but I'm still not sure I like the new me. The American Nancy had a career that she was passionate about, and that passion for language and ASL in particular made it possible to overlook difficult clients and disagreeable coworkers. The English Nancy has a part time job that brings in just enough extra money to the house to make it impossible for her to quit in the face of difficult customers and disagreeable coworkers. American Nancy had a house full of greyhounds and cats, and her non-signing life focused mostly on activities involving her hounds, about her hounds, and with other people who have hounds. English Nancy has one hound and one cat, and doesn't really have any activities outside of work and her BSL class (there just isn't time, when a four hour work day takes eight hours with the commute time added).

Homesickness has struck again, most likely because a lot of people I know in the States headed to Myrtle Beach this past weekend for Beach Bound Hounds. I've only just started going to BBH again, but the absence of that gathering of people who understand me hit me just as hard as the absence of the RID conference did in August, the absence of the Georgia Renaissance Festival did in April and May, and I'm sure the absence of the Carolina Renaissance Festival will in October and November.

If I've learned anything, it's that I had a very very full life in the United States that I did not come close to appreciating until I lost all of it to move to the UK. Chilling thought, that. I always thought of myself as unhappy there, but I wasn't, not as unhappy as I've been from time to time here, when I think of what I gave up. Now, what do I do with THAT information? For now, to quote an earlier post about compartmentalizing, I'll put on my Confessor's face and get on with it...fake it till you make it...or freeze to death, whichever comes first.

Outings in the Rain and other dislikes...

2009-09-09T11:55:00.001-04:00

Nancy doesn't like outings in the rain.
Originally uploaded by Nancy Dunne

I like not having to drive when I go somewhere as far away from my house as Leeds. I like that all grocery stores will deliver my groceries to my door if my husband didn't just love grocery shopping too much to give it up. I like that people call me "luv" and tell me that my accent is Gorr-jus. I like that I can take Daisy on buses and trains and no one bats an eyelash. I like Carex hand soap, the blue kind, because the Aloe Vera green kind smells weird. I like that I can get the same kind of Dove soap I use in the US here in the UK. I like Red Leicester cheese and ASDA brand melba toast. I really like Marmite breadsticks and can't wait to try Twiglets.

I don't like going anywhere when it's raining. I don't like rainy days where the wind can't pick a direction and turns my umbrella back inside out faster than I can right it. I don't like cars that intentionally pull over toward the pavement I'm standing on to splash me while I'm waiting to cross the street. I don't like taxi drivers that refuse to take my dog in their taxis, even if it's to go to the vet. I don't like people who stand in bookstores and very loudly criticise America when I'm standing right nearby and have just asked if I can help. I don't like stairs. I've fallen down two flights of them in three weeks. I don't like having my only bathroom at home be on the top floor of my house. See above comment about stairs.

If you look at those two paragraphs and count the sentences I think you'll find that the first one is longer than the second one. That's huge progress for me. Finding my way to my job on my own for three weeks is huge progress for me, considering it involves two busses and four trains for the entire round trip. The fact that I'm working somewhere that requires me to talk to strangers every minute of every day that I'm there is huge beyond measure...I still make Simon call to order takeaway.

But the biggest huge is that while I'm looking forward to our trip to America at the end of October my entire life isn't hinging on it as it did on the one in June. Well, at least today it isn't...