Officially an Expat?

Does preferring a foreign reproduction of an American product over the original American product mark the transition into an official expat?

If so, make me a name tag, because Finz have Goldfish beat any day with their oh so delicious 'magic dust' coating of sweet and savoury goodness.

UK +1

  versus

Question of the Day

I'm currently wondering why air conditioning feels so luxuriously amazing when I  have absolutely zero need for it.  While this 'summer' has been lovely, especially compared to the last one, between the mild temperatures and the refrigeration properties of granite, our house is perfectly cold simply by turning the heating off.  But stepping into our air conditioned hotel room last weekend felt absolutely heavenly.  And this coming from someone who was so sick of wearing layers of sweaters and scarves inside during Doha's 56°C summers because the air conditioning was turned down to such a cold temperature everywhere.

So tell me, why I am currently yearning for the luxury of air conditioning when not only do I not need it, but it would make our house way too cold?

What Not to Do

When someone in a superior position to you at work sends you a text message that reads,

"Have a great time in AMS!  Make sure you only go to museums and not [] [] shops []."

Don't immediately write back,

"Thanks!  Plan on doing a bit of both :)"

Before saying to H, "Wow, Anonymous Boss must be happy today.  He sent me three smiley faces in his vacation text."

Otherwise you might run the risk of H saying, "Let me see.  What smiley faces?"

And me responding, "Oh, my supermarket branded phone doesn't register emoticons from an iPhone."

So H, being the wise man that he is, forwards the message to his iPhone to find that the message actually reads,

"Have a great time in AMS!  Make sure you only go to museums and not ☕ shops ."

Epic fail = telling your boss you're going to smoke 'a bit of pot' while in AMS and visit museums, particularly when you plan on doing absolutely none of the former, unless coffee shops = diamond shops or home decor shops.

No further comment.

Possibly the Oddest (Or Most Entertaining) E-Mail H Has Ever Received

Thursday night H started chortling at his iPhone.  I asked what was so funny and he passed it over:

Dear Anonymous Friend's Boss,

Can you please allow Anonymous Friend to depart work early tomorrow to pipe at my wedding?  I would very VERY much appreciate it.  My original piper was a second cousin who missed his flight (drinking at the airport bar) and now won't arrive in time to play.

Thank you so much!!!!!

Anonymous Bride

A Little Taste of Home

Absolutely worth the five hours round trip.


I < 3 Anthropologie.  Now if only we could persuade them (and Chipotle and Ikea) to move a little farther north...

I Am Never Opening a Window Again

Yesterday I had a window in the living room cracked open to air out the flat a bit and take advantage of the warm (high of 60°F) day.

I was happily reading a book on the couch when I heard a rustle and looked up.  I saw a gray blob on the windowsill and thought "oh shit, a rat is finally making its appearance despite the realtor claiming that the property had no rodent problems."  Then it started flying wildly.  

A BIRD hopped into the living room, with the ~4 inch clearance from my tilted window.  As it started bouncing off the walls, I ran out of the room and slammed the door shut.  Every time I edged open the door, it would leave its perch and start flying crazily all around the room, bouncing off the walls and windows.  Patting my pockets for my phone, I realized that I had left behind my mobile, the sole land line in the house and the computer.  I ran outside seeing if I could force open the window to give the bird access out or find a neighbor to catch it.  I had no luck with either so I ran back inside and found the iPad to contact H at work.

Subject Line:  HELP!!!!  A bird flew into living room.

Message: Shut door but can't get it out.  Afraid to go back in.

Thirty seconds later, still no response.  So I e-mailed H again.

Subject Line:  I'm afraid it's going to poop all over.

Message:  Don't think it can get out...it hopped in.

Ten seconds later, still no response.  So logically, I e-mailed H again.

Subject Line: Please come home, it's gross.

Message: Phones are all trapped in living room.

And then followed up with:

Subject Line:  It's perched on chandelier over new rug.
Message:  It's going to poop on it!!!!!!

After running back outside again to see if I could tell what was going on through the window, I ran back into the flat and frantically refreshed my e-mail.  Still no response from H...so I cracked open the living room door and ran with my head down to grab my mobile phone, ran out again and slammed the door shut.

Text message to H:  CALL ME!!!!!!!

Right away, the phone rang.  I explained/shouted into the phone about the bird stuck in the living room.  And H calmly responded:

1. That he wasn't coming home (despite it being closer to 6 than 5).
2. How to get the window open further which would require me going into the living room again (not happening).
3. That it wasn't a big deal (despite constant reminders that it could poop everywhere).
4. That I should calm down (see above comment re: poop).

I hung up the phone and decided to ignore the bird until H came home to catch it/kill it/shoo it out and disinfect the entire living room.

An hour and a half later, H came home bearing the gift of carpet cleaner.  He went into the living room searching for the bird, only to find that it had somehow managed to escape.  It did however leave behind trails of bird shit across our windowsills, down a blind and on both the living room carpet and our brand new rug.

I am not a happy camper...

UK Health Care Fail, Take Two

Sorry to be MIA, I've been on vacation and then sick (perhaps because it's still so cold and wet here that we need our heat on at the end of May).  Anonymous Dad suggested I go for a strep test so I called the only private hospital around for an appointment (all the while reminding myself to bring my own robe).  After calling five times and getting the answering machine, I left a message asking if I could come in for a strep test.  An hour later the receptionist phoned back to tell me that:

1. The doctor would be happy to see me but they don't do strep tests.
2. For a strep test, I would need to go to a pharmacist and no prescription/referral would be required.

Even better.  I politely declined an appointment and phoned the pharmacy at the biggest Boots in town.

Me: "Hi, can I schedule a time to come in for a strep test?"
Boots' Pharmacist: "I'm sorry we don't do those here.  I'm not aware of any Boots that does.  I would suggest calling an independent pharmacy."
Me: "Thanks, I'll try that."

Independent Pharmacy #1:

Me: "Hi, can I schedule a time to come in for a strep test?"
Independent Pharmacy #1: "I'm sorry, we don't do that here."
Me:  "Do you know of any pharmacy that does?"
Independent Pharmacy #1: "No, sorry."

Independent Pharmacy #2:

Me: "Hi, can I schedule a time to come in for a strep test?"
Independent Pharmacy #2: "I'm sorry, we don't do that here."
Me:  "Do you know of any pharmacy that does?"
Independent Pharmacy #2: "No, sorry."

Independent Pharmacy #3:

Me: "Hi, can I schedule a time to come in for a strep test?"
Independent Pharmacy #3: "I'm sorry, we don't do that here."
Me:  "Do you know of any pharmacy that does?"
Independent Pharmacy #3: "No, sorry."

Independent Pharmacy #4:

Me: "Hi, can I schedule a time to come in for a strep test?"
Independent Pharmacy #4: "I'm sorry, we don't do that here."
Me:  "Do you know of any pharmacy that does?"
Independent Pharmacy #4: "No, sorry."

Independent Pharmacy #5:

Me: "Hi, can I schedule a time to come in for a strep test?"
Independent Pharmacy #5: "I'm sorry, we don't do that here."
Me:  "Do you know of any pharmacy that does?"
Independent Pharmacy #5: "No, sorry."
Me: "Is there anyone else there you can check with?  I've called six pharmacies already."
Independent Pharmacy #5: "Sure, just hold for a second...I'm sorry, nobody knows of any pharmacy that does strep tests.  Your best bet would be the private hospital."
Me: "They're the ones that referred me to a pharmacy!"

United Kingdom, in some ways you're awesome (24 hour grocery stores, beautiful scenery, great whiskey, Cadbury) but in a lot of ways you absolutely suck (healthcare, weather, fog lights).

On that note, please excuse me while I self-medicate with whiskey.  It 1. kills germs and 2. warms me up.  A win win solution.

How to Tell When Someone Should No Longer Be a Facebook Friend

Before you get all excited, this post is not about someone who said something stupid and made me so angry that I felt the need to 'unfriend' them.  For the record, that's never happened to me and it's rather ridiculous to think that people actually do that.  (Just think how much gossip you would lose access to...)  Instead, this about a second Facebook fail that requires a trip back in time a few days:

Saturday morning: Anonymous Friend is tagged in pictures wearing a suit with a magenta tie.  Hmm, I thought, looks like it's a wedding.

Sunday morning:  Aforementioned Anonymous Friend is tagged in more pictures from the same event, this time by his mother.  Hmm, his twin brother is wearing the same suit and tie...they must be in the wedding party.

Monday morning:  More pictures from aforementioned event are posted...wow it looks like Anonymous Friend's twin got married.

Tuesday morning:  Finally, the bride makes the appearance in photos on my newsfeed, click through, oh there's the groom....holy sh*t, ANONYMOUS FRIEND WAS THE GROOM!

Moral of the story:  If I didn't even know that Anonymous Friend was finally in a serious relationship (the last woman he was with when we still had a face to face friendship was a one night stand with someone twice his age), didn't know he was engaged, and it took me the better part of the week to realize that it was photos from his wedding getting posted, perhaps we don't need to be Facebook friends any longer...obviously we've fallen entirely out of touch.

Given that I think it's a bit mean to unfriend someone, I think I might just recategorize our friendship to the 'people watching' category, same same as sitting in a sidewalk cafe watching strangers go by.

Flashback Tuesday

Courtesy of a few friends posting this on Facebook, H and I had a major flashback to life in Doha last week after reading the article, Fifteen Signs You Have Lived in Qatar Too Long by Phillippa Stewart.  We strongly agree with all of Phillippa's bullet points about life in Doha except for number 10.

In case you don't feel like clicking through to the full article, here's a synopsis of a few of our favorite signs of having lived in Doha too long:

1. "When you navigate the city using 5 star hotels as your landmarks."  Sometimes I used the Ramada instead of Sharq or the Four Seasons but still, close enough.
2. "When you no longer find the names of roundabouts amusing."  H and I definitely gave our address in relation to NBK Mercedes roundabout with a straight face (including the fact that from one direction you had to turn right just before it and drive straight through the construction site until you had almost reached the end of it and then turn right again).  The construction site was intact (and unchanged) for our full two plus years living there.
3. "When this is a totally normal thing to see:" In fairness, sometimes it would be a sheep, particularly around Ramadan.   
4. "When it reaches 20 degrees, you reach for a jumper."  H and I always thought it was ridiculous when the locals broke out their leather coats, scarves and hats in 'winter' just because it was winter.  We still went to the pool in the oh so chilly temperatures of December.  However, once we went to the Caribbean as a vacation from Doha and my first day on the beach there, it was 86 degrees Fahrenheit and I wouldn't take off my sweatshirt and jeans.  Luckily I adapted for day two.
5. "When speed limits and red lights are just gentle suggestions...and when it is no longer shocking for someone to make a left turn from the far right lane while navigating one of the 50 roundabouts you have found yourself on in the space of your five mile journey."  No comment, this is SO true.
6. "When you are excessively nice to shop workers/waiters etc because you feel extreme guilt about how they are treated the rest of the time."  Also very true although I do miss the Ma'am/Sir'ing.
7. "When your reply to being asked for anything is bukra Insha’allah. While the literal translation is “tomorrow, G-d willing” you are fully aware that anyone saying it means “maybe sometime next month, or never..."  I have to admit, I still say it.  It sucks when this is said to you then when asking for something that you absolutely need from someone else at the office.
8. "When you head back to the West, the outfits seem shocking. Not to sound like a prude, but there were shoulders and knees everywhere. Scandalous. Additionally, how do you all not freeze to death?"  My first day in Perth, I put on shorts and a tank top and literally felt like I was walking around naked outside.  It was too weird. 
9. "When rain is a cause for a) excitement and b) everyone forgetting how to drive."  Not to mention, all restaurants stop delivering until the rain stops.  Cue sad face.

For the other six items, head over to the article, Fifteen Signs You Have Lived in Qatar Too Long.  And if you're waking up somewhere other than Doha this morning, be grateful!

Alternative Uses for Disposable Gloves

Sometimes I get sad that H and I don't live somewhere a little less developed / more exciting than the UK.  Then Anonymous Dad sends me links like these:

http://www.nytimes.com/video/2013/04/16/dining/100000002099867/a-spicy-specialty.html#100000002099867

and I become overjoyed to call this very developed country (ignoring the NHS) my (temporary) home.

I'll take the horse meat scandal over 'this bald head' any day.

Somehow I doubt that I would find spicy rabbit heads "truly yummy."  I'd rather use those same plastic gloves to pump my gas.

Oddbins, Odd Name and Odd Commentary

On Friday I was searching for a couple of bottles of wine to bring to a friend's party.  Given that I was feeling a little bit lazy (and it looked like it was going to pour), I decided to browse nearby wine stores' websites to get an idea of their inventory / what I wanted before going out.  This turned into the best idea ever.  I learned that on Oddbins' website, can you browse by food and wine pairings including but not limited to:

• Offal (Perhaps if I drank enough wine first I would consider serving this?  Who am I kidding, I would never serve offal.) 
• Lentils (Are there really people out there concerned with what wine pairs well with lentils?) 
• Venison and game (Glad we're not limiting the category to venison.)
• Pork and bacon (Happy to see that bacon is important enough to get its own classification, albeit within the pork category.)
• Eggs (Why yes, I always worry what wine I should serve with eggs.  Oh wait, strike that, it would be champagne for mimosas.)

If you can't decide / don't know precisely the food that's being served, no worries, Oddbins also offers the choice of browsing/buying wines by occasion.  I definitely understand the dinner party wines, celebration wines, and party wines categories.  But then they branch out to weekending wines, discovery wines and contemplation wines.  Really???

Dear Oddbins,

Please advise what wine to drink while sitting reflectively by a stream, watching the clouds float by when it's precisely nine degrees Celcius outside and the sun is partially shining but I keep getting distracted from my 'contemplation' by checking Facebook on my iPhone.  In case it matters, it's an iPhone 4, not 5.  And let's just say it's for a Tuesday early afternoon.

Thanks,
Anonymous Expat

The fun doesn't stop there though as once you actually click through to a specific wine, in addition to the J. Peterman type review, you get a four bullet synopsis under the following four categories:


 
 


Each wine has its own unique categorization and they're all hilarious.  Favorites include:

You need your funny bone tickled

House of Fun by Madness

Wa-hey, that's the spirit!

Between laughter

and

You like who you are

"Independent Women" by Destiny's Child

Nobody's going to change me

Local produce

and

After a near miss

Stayin Alive

About insurance

Spicy Thai

and

You're having a strange dream

"Everybody's Happy Nowadays" by Buzzcocks

Is this real?

Ripe brie, before bed.

I could copy and paste indefinitely or you can go check it out yourselves.  It's time for me to crack open one of the bottles that corresponds with one of the above 'reviews.' 

Stop, Drop, Bake

This has nothing to do with living overseas, unless you count that the recipe comes from a London-based blogger (although it can also be found all over Pinterest), but you absolutely have to try baking and eating some Slutty Brownies.

I'd post a photo of them in all of their decadence if I hadn't found an empty space on the counter when I wandered in with my camera this morning, only to discover that H had taken the entire batch (less the ones we consumed last night before dinner) to work with him.

But trust me, you have to try them.  They are so easy to make, I used a boxed chocolate chip cookie mix and a boxed brownie mix and they were unreal.  Definitely follow the Londoner's tip of adding a little extra water to the cookie mix to keep them moist.  And the 30 minute baking time was spot on.  The only thing I'll change next time, is substituting double stuffed oreos for the original ones.  That extra thick creamy layer will be oh so tasty.

Excuse me while I wipe the drool off of my chin.  And phone H begging him to bring me back at least once slab of my new favorite food. 

Getting to Know the Neighbors

I think our neighbor might be a drug dealer.  Either that or he has a major case of ADD.  Multiple times a day, he speed walks to his Bentley (often times carrying a small leather gym bag), whizzes away, and is back five minutes later.  Cycle that sequence on repeat and you have a typical day for Anonymous Neighbor.

I can't even begin to guess what his destination might be other than the fact that a couple of times, I've spotted his car parked at the building immediately next door that is really rundown and almost looks like it could be a crack den if it wasn't on such a fancy street.  Although, after watching Breaking Bad, it could be compared to Jesse's house: really nice house/neighborhood, really shady tenant, substituting the part about the really nice house.

If he's not a drug dealer, than maybe Anonymous Neighbor is selling special vitamins with huge quantities of Vitamin A or self-tanning pills to help his 'friends' obtain the perfect shade of orange that he and his father sport year round.  

Or maybe he's running to move his Bentley under cover at any chance of rain. 

One day I'll have to ask, until then I'll enjoy speculating.

Positive Reinforcement

As the weekend is rapidly approaching, and my new ingredients for champagne cocktails are burning a hole through the refrigerator door, I wanted to leave you with a small tidbit for weekend rumination as to why the UK is awesome, or conversely, insane.

When we first moved here, I thought my eyes were mistaken or it was some elaborate scam, but no.  If you pay your hydroelectric bill on time (not even early, but on time), you get a prompt payment discount off your next bill.

I kid you not.  And it's available on every bill.  Which means that my first bottle of champagne for aforementioned champagne cocktails is 'free' courtesy of my prompt payment discounts.

Cheers! 

What Making New Friends Looks Like (As an Expat)

Post-it note I left in the kitchen for H this afternoon:

Dear H,

Remember how I came home last week with a Tiffany blue calling card from a new acquaintance?  Well, I've been invited over to her house for wine this afternoon.  If I go missing (aka if I'm not home when you get back from work), please phone the police.

Xoxo,
Anonymous Expat


Addendum: Turns out this note was unnecessary / unhelpful.  1. H never came home from work last night.  2.  I had such a nice time at this non-crazy woman's house that I was parked there for hours without even realizing it and was not cut up into a million little pieces and eaten for dinner.  3.  I was having so much fun that I missed two calls from H...good thing he never saw my note and hence had no inclination to phone the police.

Addendum Two:  The next time I walk to someone's house with a bottle of wine midday, I should probably put it in a bag.  What wouldn't have gotten a second glance in Perth, definitely got some stares here.  Or maybe people were just staring at me since I decided to dress like it is spring since it's now April, despite the fact that it's currently 32 degrees.

When 6 AM Becomes 5 AM

When I lived in Perth, I was astounded by the hostility related to daylight savings time.  I couldn't believe that people would object, let alone so vehemently, to an extra hour of sunshine in the evening, après work.  This morning, as I'm force feeding myself coffee, fighting bouts of exhaustion nausea, and trying to keep my eyes open, I finally get it.  Perth locals may not have been protesting the extra hour of daylight, they may have been rejecting losing the hour of sleep when the clocks changed over.  

Today's mantra will be short term pain for long term gain.  Or maybe I'll just pretend that I hopped on an airplane to someplace hot and lost an hour due to a geography related time change.  That's always easier to stomach.  Especially when March in the UK was colder than December, January and February for the first time since 1975.

The New Necessary

Maybe we're tired, maybe we're nuts, or maybe we're just really easily amenable to the power of suggestions.  Whatever the case, I'm not sure if it's really safe to let H or I go shopping this week.

After a marathon of Downton Abbey, I came home with this claret.  For 3.89 GBP, I couldn't resist.  I did resist the crystal goblets to drink it out of (you're welcome H).  But I wouldn't say no to a butler to serve it; sadly I never did unwrap one for my birthday.  Alas, if I got my butler, I would probably need to get some appropriate glassware.

Not to be outdone in weirdness, after a glorious lunch of dim sum, I found H at the checkout line of the neighboring Chinese supermarket with these two giant bamboo steamers:

 

Apparently these are necessary to steam the frozen dim sum he had also selected.  Forget the fact that the rice cooker has been used to do the very same thing for the past three years and the fact that we have two small cabinets in our tiny kitchen to store all cookware and containers in.  Two steamer baskets + one lid, each with a diameter of ~16 inches = NECESSARY.  However, as the official sous-chef/chief taster for Master Chef H, I can't really object to his kitchenware selections.

One day I'll have to do a pictorial inventory of our overseas kitchenware titled either What Our Kitchen Cabinets Look Like After Moving Overseas in Four Suitcases and Leaving Behind All of the Gorgeous Items From Our Bloomingdale's Wedding Registry or Expat Kitchen Essentials.  Either way, prepare to be astounded.

Happy March 27th

Please excuse me while I go put on this

and these

to go out in the multiple inches of snow that fell overnight.

This week in Doha, it's forecast to be a high of 95° and a low of 68°.  In Perth, it's forecast to be a high of 88° and low of 59°.   In both places, the forecast is showing unrestricted sunshine.

And here?  We're showing a high of 45° and a low of 30° with snow showers/rain all week.

While I don't regret moving here for a second, today I really wish that I could be relaxing on the beach in Australia, or even compound poolside in Qatar, instead of trudging through the snow.  One day I am going to get myself a pair of snowshoes to get around town here; in the meantime, I'll be browsing for a hot vacation destination ASAP.

Tourist Time

Given that I am actually overseas and do attempt to do a fair amount of site-seeing, I figured that I should share some of the latest and greatest tourist shots from my parents' latest trip to visit us.  These were actually taken by my Dad (thanks for sharing).

Dunnottar Castle, always a favorite.

 

Drum Castle, on 'magic' filter.

Scottish sheep, because I < 3 them.

Castle Fraser, also on 'magic' filter.  The estate may or may not have been closed, courtesy of 'icy road' conditions...call us rebels.

 

Tolquhon Castle, specifically selected since its (ruined) interior is open on winter weekends...until we got there and it was closed until further notice due to 'inclement weather.'  Fortunately we could still get up close and personal with the exterior.

 

And then, courtesy of it being the 'off' season which means that most of the more popular/well-known sites are closed, we decided to go in hunt of  less discovered Scotland, also known as, stone circle hunting.

Unbeknownst to me before we moved here, the northeast of Scotland has one of the densest concentrations of stone circles, standing stones and other megalithic sites in all of the United Kingdom.  Armed with vague directions from the internet, my parents, and an outdated Garmin, I set off to find them.  We trekked through manure, mud and snow filled fields (and cemeteries), dodged cows, large trucks and the occasional security camera, and made a lot of u-turns to find the following.

Easter Aquhorthies Recumbent Stone Circle

 

Cullerlie Stone Circle

 

Midmar Kirk Recumbent Stone Circle

 

What we thought was the Kintore Stone, turns out, it was not.  To quote Bigstones, it was still a fine example...

Sadly neither H nor our latest visitor was keen to revisit these with me, or search for new ones.  So I'm currently in need of another person to go stone circle/recumbent stone hunting with me.  Any takers?

The Ultimate Test of a Loving Marriage

After over a year of living in our flat, I realized yesterday that we don't have a single full length mirror.  This cognizance came when I excitedly went to try on two new pairs of pants that had arrived in the mail and couldn't find a single appropriate mirror to see how they looked.  Fast forward eight hours to when H walked through the door from work:

Me: "H, I need you to be my mirror and tell me how these two pairs of pants look."

H: "Umm, maybe you can stand on a chair?"

Me: "No, I need a full length, 360 view, just be honest."

H: "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Me: "Yes, they're just pants, tell me how they look."

A mere ten minutes later (which is quick for me and pants), we had jointly decided to keep the pair I had assumed would be returned and to return the pair that I had been most excited about ordering, thanks to a poor fit.  And not a single mean word or hurt feeling.  Major bonus points to my awesome husband, who also happens to have excellent taste.

Universal Truths

Last week, H had to renew his commentary drive at work.  It basically involves driving around town with a company hired safety representative/instructor, observing road rules and commenting on what you're doing, why you're doing it and potential safety risks that you are passing.  When passing a restaurant, H commented that it was necessary to be aware of cars entering and exiting the parking lot.  This prompted his instructor to start a friendly conversation about H's favorite restaurants around town, now that we have been here for over a year.  H quickly told him that we get food multiple nights a week from a Thai restaurant in the city, that's (obviously) really good.  He asked which one and when H told him, exclaimed excitedly, "that's the best one here!"

Per the driving instructor, Anonymous Thai Restaurant is the only authentic Thai restaurant in town, with the owners hailing from Chiang Mai.  He filed the other Thai restaurants under two categories: Chinese and British (despite some of the proprietors also being Thai).

Then he shared his best kept secret with H...how to tell if a Thai restaurant is going to be good/authentic.  Per the driving instructor, the restaurant must have a picture of the King.

Obviously.  I'm glad to know that some truths cross country lines.

First Ready Meals, Now Ready Wine

Just when I thought that there was no way that Australia could ever be outclassed, with their utes,

inappropriate outings without shoes (i.e. pumping gas, walking through malls, using airplane lavatories),

and love of high visibility work wear as 'going out clothes,'

the UK pulled in for a photo finish with pre-filled plastic wine glasses with peel off lids:

Thank you Sainsbury's Local for enlightening me.  If I'm ever in need of a single serving of wine in a hurry, I now know just where to go.

To Add Insult to Injury

Dear Cleaning Crew,

Thank you very much for packing up all of the supplies that the repairmen left in our flat.  Having the drop cloths, pieces of pipe, dirty rags and other various bits and bobs wrapped up for pick-up or the bin is very nice.  Having my Ugg Boots included in the trash pile, not so nice.

I know I have big feet, I know that they're a bit dirty from my latest hike in the glorious wet British weather we've been having, but these are most certainly not work or workman's boots.

Needless to say, I'm confused why you selected these when we actually did have about half a dozen pairs of these in the very same area of the flat:


 Sadly those also belong to us.

Thanks and Regards,
Anonymous Expat

Hmmm

Arriving back to the flat to find a mini disaster zone (aka plaster blizzard) and a repairman who I could barely understand thanks to the heaviest Scottish accent that I have heard in at least a year, it's easy to say that my Friday wasn't off to the best start possible.  However, on his third tea break in three hours, he asked me where I was from.  After getting a blank look when I said the United States, I repeated it a few times, thinking that he either couldn't understand my accent or I had completely misunderstood his question.  But then he said to me, "Hmm.  But you've picked up a bit of a Scottish accent."

Really???

If I was wittier and wiser, my response could have been:

"Awa' an bile yer heid"

also known as: Away and boil your head!  or Get lost, you're talking rubbish!

Remember When...

I'm currently waiting for time to move forward to the point that 'remember when we had a gas leak and checked into a luxury hotel for a week' becomes funny rather than a pain in the ass.

That being said I am attempting to enjoy my enforced country retreat.  Favorite activities include:

• Morning strolls across the estate (all I need is Isis).
• Thinking up witty different responses for the entire hotel staff when each individual inquires on a daily basis how the gas leak repair is going.  I am beginning to think that H and I are the biggest news story / source of gossip in the hotel.
• Waiting with much anticipation for our tea box to be refilled and then checking excitedly for new flavours.
• Deciding that toast racks are seriously underrated.  
• Afternoon tea.
• Reading the freshly ironed Financial Times in front of the roaring, non gas, fireplace.
• Daily bubble baths and long showers because I have hot water and can do what I want.
• Eating lunch in a bathrobe.
• Observing that the staff has noticed my fondness for sparkling water and has stocked the mini fridge accordingly.
• Twice daily maid service...unfortunately I'm addicted, sorry H.
• Having a personal chef and no dishes or clean-up, see above, sorry H.

Ok, perhaps the pain in the ass is just the uncertainty of not knowing when we can check-out and the fact that we are paying rent and paying for a hotel room.  If we just move out of our flat and into the hotel permanently, that could solve all of our problems.  Well that and the fact that the hotel bar is 'at our disposal' 24 hours a day.

Let Them Drink Tea?

H and I just passed through Charles De Gaulle and couldn't resist a large box of Ladurée macaroons to bring back with us to the UK.  Spotting "Marie Antoinette" among the seasonal flavors, we couldn't resist giving it a try.

Between its name and the vivid blue color, it seemed a bit unusual for Ladurée.  Atypically, we were unable to distinguish what the flavor was.  Using the color, name and sugary sweetness, we determined it must be cake batter flavored and chuckled over the historical links.

Sadly, when we got home, I did some research and learned that the Marie Antoinette macaroon is actually flavored with Marie Antoinette tea which is purportedly, "A dulcet marriage of Chinese black tea combined with rose petals, citrus fruit and honey.  A pastoral walk at the Petit Trianon.  A delicious afternoon tea for a sweet and romantic pause. All the spirit of Ladurée."

I love macaroons, and Ladurée's rose tea flavor is one of my favorites, but I personally think that Ladurée could have taken some inspiration from the below when choosing a flavor for Marie Antoinette...