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Brilliance in Neutrals
One of the perks of living in Europe is that it’s so very close to… well, Europe. Hence, we’ve seen a lot of cathedrals. London alone has dozens, and while I would never argue that if you’ve seen one cathedral, you’ve seen them all, European cathedrals and chapels do offer a predictable checklist of characteristics: vaulted ceilings. Intricate artistry. Stained glass windows as colorful as Jolly Ranchers. Perhaps that’s why, on our recent day trip to Oxford, the stained-glass west window of Magdalen College Chapel stood out. It wasn’t colorful. No showstopping scarlet and jade tones, only gentle neutrals. Subdued browns and greys depicting a sobering scene of the Final…
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Bins and Basements
Yesterday I met with my prayer squad: three British friends, me, and Jackie, a fellow American and native Wisconsinite. Somehow, Jackie and I got to talking about how moving to London forced us to sort and purge possessions and decide what should be stored in bins in our respective parents’ basements. “Different kind of bin,” I remembered to clarify. In the UK trash/garbage cans are bins. The ones inside the house are bins, the ones outside are wheelie bins, because they have wheels. Here, Bin it means toss it. Not store it. “What’s a bin then?” one British friend asked. “A box. A plastic box to store stuff in.”…
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10 Cultural London Surprises
Ten Cultural London Surprises (from an American Midwesterner’s point of view) My Love. For a city known for its aloofness, strangers sure can come on strong. Don’t take it seriously when the Tesco bloke (grocery delivery) or cashier at Wilko (a wannabe baby Target) refers to you as My love. Your love? I hardly know you! You alright? Americans only ask, “Are you alright?” when someone is obviously not alright. If one has tripped or is crying or throwing up. When something bad has happened, that’s the time to ask, “You alright?” So you can understand my alarm when, a couple months after moving here, not one, not two, but…
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Just an American in England on the 4th of July
4th of July, 2019. It’s strange to be here in lovely London. Today will not include fireworks or sparklers or hotdogs or star-shaped, red Jell-O jigglers or parades or flags waving or freedom from school. It will include watermelon and corn on the cob corn salad and celebrating with American friends. It’s just past eight in the morning and the hubs and I have already sung along to Proud to be an American and John Mellencamps’s Pink Houses (aka Ain’t that America). Undoubtedly the words Oh say can you see will escape my lips at some point today; it can’t be helped. And once you start in on that bravado…
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Learning London
I never expected to mourn the loss of a three-ring-binder, but I have. Thinking I was smart to save on room/weight when we moved overseas, and assuming I could easily buy a three ring binder once in London, I packed my plastic sleeve encased recipes without the binder, only to find that three ring binders don’t exist here in the UK, only two ring binders. A two ring binders seems close to a three ring binder, but it doesn’t work with my recipes. Close, but functionally different. The US and the UK may seem culturally similar, and in some ways we are, but our (mostly) common language can blind us…