DRIVING TEST, PART DEUX

I can't believe I forgot to mention this, because it was the whole reason I was going to post about my driving test. I was so nervous that the first thing I did was open the car door and smack myself in the eye with it. I then tried to pretend nothing had happened, although I was momentarily emblindinated on one side.

FINGS WOT I STOLE FROM WORK

I don't talk a whole lot about work here, mostly because I just really, really don't think it's a good idea to post about your job in a public place. I don't think anyone I work with would ever actually find this, but, come on, it's just not a good idea.

Don't get me wrong--I really like my job. I work from home often, which means I can get a lot more done. And the people I work for are really nice people, so I want to do a good job for them.

Another perq to the job is that it is a horticultural firm. Which means that I very often get to take plants home from work. I jokingly call this "stealing," but it's actually condoned. Mostly it's stuff that would just get thrown away otherwise--for example, there may be some poinsettias that were ordered as samples or on which they are performing temperature trials, and then when they are done photographing, examining, or trialling, then if anyone wants one, they can take it. Or if it's the end of the season and nobody is buying petunias anymore, and there are some left over, we can take them.

Often it will be stuff that isn't in saleable condition. When you walk into a store, you want to see pretty-looking plants. If the pansies are looking a little bit scruffy, all they really need is to be stuck into the ground, fed, and watered, and they'll be fine. But we can't send out scruffy-looking stuff, so that might also be up for the taking.

At any rate, MOST of the things in my garden (and the plants in my home) are things I actually purchased at some point, or grew from seed. But there are quite a few that I stole from work, and I feel really fortunate.

The wisteria growing on the arbor, for example. Stolen! I have two tubs with pilfered cyclamen in them, and some annual impatiens--both traditional and New Guinea. There are some mums here and there, a couple of astilbe and penstemon, and a couple of violas.

Oh, and one or two fuschias.

I have a terrible (and well-deserved) reputation at work for always wanting to pilfer. You know the guy who's always first on hand when there's a doughnut or a cake going? I can take or leave the cakes, but I'm that guy when it comes to plants. It's funny because one of my coworkers one day asked me if I was this bad at my other jobs, but, come on, it's just plants. I'm like an alcoholic working in a Guinness factory. Moving into a new place with a completely empty garden didn't exactly help! I doubt I'll be quite as greedy next year now that things are filling out a bit more. But maybe that's just wishful thinking.

Ah, well. There could be worse addictions.

I DIDN'T PUKE

So anyway, I finally decided that it was time to get my British driver's licence. You can only drive on your American one for a year, which doesn't really make sense to me, since your first year is when you are bound to be the least used to the roads over here and, therefore, the worst driver. But there you go.

So. I took the theory test a couple of months ago, and passed, so today was the day I took my practical test, which I did over my lunch hour.

It was funny, because my instructor and I had agreed that, since my test was at 1:35, she would pick me up at 12:30 and we could practice all of the things they might test me on, and I could be "warmed up" in her car before the test. So I waited...and waited...and finally called her at 1:00.

She had completely spaced (which is very unlike her) and had somehow gotten it into her head that she was picking me UP at 1:30. Oy! So she rushed over, and we sped like mad to the test center, with her driving.

Which means I arrived feeling like I was going to throw up any second.

Incidentally, I wasn't angry or anything, because my brain goes blank all of the time, and that's exactly the sort of thing I'd do.

At any rate, I passed! And I did not puke on the instructor's shoes even once. So all in all, I think that can be classified as success.

MY GARDEN IN AUTUMN

Well, I finally got out and took some photographs. It's definitely autumn, and the garden is looking kind of sparse and dry. But I'm happy--it's slowly but surely getting there. Ignore the little signs of ongoing work--the trug full of peonies here, the bag of bark chips there. For here, at last, are photos of my garden:

First, we have the photo of the view from the back patio. You can see the new arch/trellis/arbor thingy, which is a bit tall looking, but I think it will be all right. Note that it was cold and wet, and I could not for the life of me get the lens to stop fogging up:



I've cleared away some of the more vigorous growth around the pond, but left some to the back so that the frogs have some place to hide and play.



Putting the light next to the pond was Mike's idea. He figures, well, it attracts bugs, and what do frogs like better?! Good point. Yes, those are carnivorous pitcher plants you see there. They are hardy enough for this area, which is cool.

You know what I said about buttloads of apples? Here are the two trees, so you can see for yourself.






If that isn't a metric buttload, I don't know what is.

And lastly, here are four different views of the arbor. You can see the wisteria I trained all around it. I think it looks pretty already, and am really excited to see it when it blooms, and as it grows.

MY CAR HAS A BUTT SENSOR

It's true. The seatbelt sign only comes on if there is a person in a seat who is not wearing a seatbelt. So clearly, there is a seatbelt sensor that indicates whether or not the seatbelt is fastened, and there must also be a butt sensor to check if there is a butt in the seat in question.

I'm sure they have some pleasant-sounding euphemism for this. They probably call it a "pressure sensor" or "secondary seatbelt detection unit," but the real truth is that my car is equipped with more than one butt sensor.

I like to imagine a board room out there somewhere, with a bunch of marketing people trying out cutesy marketing-type names and taglines for this. "JAGUAR - NOW WITH ARSENSE(TM)". I know it isn't true, and yet it makes me happy.

TEN THINGS THAT GAG ME ABOUT ENGLAND

I really do love this country, just as I love the US. When I first moved here, I felt like I couldn't really say anything bad about the place, because, you know, the classic Ugly American is the one who disses every other place s/he visits. And also, I knew that there was quite a bit of learning about the culture I needed to do before I felt like I could say that I didn't like things, as opposed to there just being differences that I wasn't used to.

However, now I have been here for long enough that I don't feel guilty or weird about admitting that there are some things over here that just gag me. Just like the US--it's home and I love it, which is one of the reasons I feel free to say that some things just plain...well...gag me.

So, in no particular order, here are ten things that gag me about England:

1. Unrefrigerated eggs. You heard me. People over here don't put eggs in the fridge. I'm sorry, that's just gross.

2. Unrefrigerated coke. See above. Gag.

3. Customer disservice. If you haven't lived here, you would be absolutely shocked by the complete lack of any kind of customer service. Anything goes wrong, and the company in question just plain couldn't care less about fixing it and making sure you are satisfied. Even if they're doing something illegal, you very often pretty much have to take them to some kind of mediation or court before they'll budge. It's utterly outrageous.

4. No tumble dryers.

5. No Mexican or Ethiopian food. On the rare occasions on which I've found a Mexican restaurant, it's always tex-mex. Not that I don't like tex-mex, but it's not really a "Mexican" restaurant if the only Mexican item on the menu is a fajita. The rest is all barbecued ribs, etc. Um, sorry, not actually Mexican. I'm serious--literally the only Mexican item is fajitas, or possibly fajitas and nachos. And come on, Ethiopia is closer to here than to the US!

6. Overt male sluttishness. I'm not sure how else to describe this. However, in this country it is considered perfectly okay, natural, and obvious that men, whether they are married, single, committed bachelors, in a relationship, or in any other state other than gay, should look at women and discuss in detail what they think of their breasts, their general sexual appeal, and that sort of thing. I really don't like it. I try hard to adjust to the fact that the general opinion is that admiration is natural and they have no intention of following through, but I actually really appreciate the fact that in the US it is assumed that if you are in a relationship, especially if married, that you should try not to have these kinds of thoughts and reactions.

Over here, that's considered unnatural, dishonest, and impossible. I don't think it is, because I think that part of our job as decent adult humans is to recognise that sometimes we think things that we shouldn't, and we try to overcome that. Maybe that's just a function of being a Messianic Jewish/Christian person. But I also think it's part of being happy.

For example, the other day I found myself getting irritated because Mike hadn't taken something outside. I will admit that there may have been some kind of hormonal element to this. But I stopped myself, and thought, look, you can choose whether or not to turn your relationship into one of these perpetual fights about who has let whom down more often, and who is more persecuted or works harder than whom. I know lots of people with that relationship. I don't want that. Realistically, he's usually pretty good about doing the things that are "his responsibility", eventually, and sometimes you just have to let it go.

It's the same thing. Looking at other women is doing a bit of a disservice to the one you're with, and you can choose whether or not to do so.

Okay, that's a lot of talk about one point, but there you go.

7. Not rinsing dishes. This really grosses me out. Over half of the people I've met over here put soapy water in the sink, wash the dishes, and then put them in the dish drainer without rinsing them. Eww.

8. Dinky refrigerators. Normal-sized refrigerators are referred to as "American style." Those half-fridges used by posher college students are the norm over here. Which leads me to....

9. Nobody cooks! The baking section of the larger grocery stores is basically aboutr four feet wide and seven feet tall. That's it. There is row after row after row of pre-prepared food. Which explains why nobody has a real refrigerator.

10. Expensive shoes. Mind you, I like shoes, and I have been known to spend over $100 on a pair of shoes. But the thing is, if you look at the exchange rate, and you see that a £40 pair of shoes is $80 in "real" money (hee), you think, oh, that should be a pretty decent pair of shoes. Not necessarily a shoegasm, but ones that I like. But over here, you'll spend £40 on shoes that are the ones that you say, "Well, I need a pair of black flats, I need them right away, and these will do, I guess." $80 is not "Oh, well, I guess these will do." $80 is "I like these shoes."

I'm sure I'll think of things that gag me more, but those are my ten for now.

UPDATE

So...once again, I have been terrible about posting things. So here is my big catch-up post.

Hmm.

To recap and update: The Boyfriend and I moved to this officially "charming" little town just outside of London in December. We have one set of insane neighbors, who have had a "Sold" sign up in their front garden since April, and one set of very nice neighbors, with whom we have started a Fruit Exchange Program. They have pears, we have apples.

No, let me rephrase that. We have buttloads of apples. The world has never seen so many apples. The other day, Mike said, "We have more apples than God," after which I tried to explain that technically, the apples ARE God's, and he is just letting us eat them.

The garden is slowly but surely getting whipped into shape. I've planted things in the borders, and over the weekend, Michael and I (mostly him) put up a sort of arbor, and planted wisteria around it so that it will grow up and then flower. It looks gorgeous, and I will put up some photos of it when I have a chance (read: when the camera battery charges).

The garden is a hotbed of animal activity. There's a bat that flies around (although he spends more time flying over the evil neighbors' garden, which makes perfect sense if you think about it) every night. I believe he is a soprano pipistrelle, and he's really cute. We still have 1.5 gazillion frogs, countless birds, some kind of a little mousie that shows up every now and then, and, the most recent visitor, the hedgehog. Evidently, he was finding all sorts of tasty bugs under the patio. He doesn't seem to be the least bit bothered by us looking at him. He wandered under the patio, and you could hear "pad pad pad *smack smack smack* pad pad pad pad *smack smack smack*" as he made his way around.

I tried to cut off one of my fingers with a motorized hand trimmer (a gardening tool which I wa taking the name of a little too literally), and had to be rushed off to the hospital for stitches and things. It's healing well, although I may never regain all of the sensation, and the scar is fairly impressive.

I've discovered the joys of home ownership, as all of the appliances decided to break themselves. The dishwasher was the first to go. Then the boiler went, so we have no heat, although fortunately it's not all that cold yet, and we have a fireplace.

Usually the thought of any "domestic" kind of activity fills me with horror, but I have to admit that the other night I was really enjoying sitting on the couch across from a toasty fire, peeling apples I'd just picked for the pie I was about to pop into the oven.

It was really nice.

Both the experience and the pie.

I've worryingly become addicted to my own apple pie. I've looked at loads of different recipes, but it doesn't seem like any of them manage to get the right mixture of ingredients. I saw one that called for a dash of vinegar instead of lemon juice, and some don't seem to understand the need for BROWN sugar. I don't know why these things are important, but they are.

Since it was Appliance Repair Month anyway, I finally ordered a tumble dryer, which is being delivered today. YAY!!!! I never thought I would have such strong feelings about appliances, and the fact that I do is more than a little disturbing to me. But one of the things that seriously bugs me here is that nobody seems to have tumble dryers. They all hang up their clothes to dry, which may be ecologically friendly and all of that, but it means that if you keep up on your washing, you always have part of the house that looks messy. As far as I'm concerned, if you are caught up on your washing, then your house should look tidier.

Anyway, I am more than a little swamped at work, so I'll end this now, and will try to get some photos of the arbor on my lunch hour. Hopefully it won't be raining like it is now.