Boyfriends first annual golf weekend

This time of the year is always very busy for me. There is the usual spring cleaning of the house inside and out. And, the planting of the gardens! And, all the yard work! This year I have the added challenges of working on this website, (yes, although you may not realize it, I really do work on it all the time). And, this past weekend, the additional challenge of entertaining hubby’s boyfriends for their first annual long weekend of golf!

I had an absolutely crazy weekend! Have you ever been so incredibly swamped with things to do that you lost your focus because you were so overwhelmed? That was my weekend. I sped around the house and gardens and grocery store and kitchen stove without a good plan of action which made the tasks so much more difficult and a little dangerous, too!

I have always loved to entertain. And, I usually have a great plan laid out and therefore have so much fun. But, I never quite found my rhythm last weekend. So, it was filled with tiny disasters!

While at the grocery store, I had to backtrack down aisles I had already been in. While rushing to put groceries away, I knocked a glass bowl to the floor, dumping its contents of homemade croutons for that evening’s Caeser salad and breaking the bowl. I nicked my finger cutting fresh roses without wearing gloves. I dumped part of the contents of the morning’s used coffee grounds all around the garbage can and on the floor and kicked over a bowl of cat food. I ended up with several bumped knees, stubbed toes and bruised shoulders while rushing around corners on my way to do other tasks.

Some of the work that Brian would have helped with was now all mine to do, since he was busy doing his guy thing for the weekend.

So, I didn’t handle the weekend as well as I could have.  But, I did get through it and I am not dead!  Everyone had a lovely time. What hubby said late Sunday night, after everyone was gone, was, “Wow! Thank you so much honey, for all your hard work to make the weekend great.”

Yeah, that made it worth it! Wooooo Hooooo!

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Interview with an Englishman

grahamgudgin1An Englishman in New Jersey – A look at life in the US through the eyes of someone not from around these parts  

Today’s post is an interiew I conducted with a friend that I’ve never met in person! He lives in New Jersey and I met him on Twitter. Like many relationships found via Twitter, I met Graham Gudgin through a mutual friend. I checked out his website and found that I liked his writing. And, thus our relationship was born!

Graham is a Brit living in the United States.  Many of the posts on his website deal with people living in cultures other than the ones they were brought up.  That is what gave me the idea to interview him. I find his story interesting.

I have added a link to his site on my left sidebar (under Sites I Like). You can also click on the link here to read some of his stuff: http://englishmannj.blogspot.com/. You can also follow him on twitter at @GrahamGudgin.

Below are my interview questions followed by his answers. 

1. How did you come to be in the United States?  Why New Jersey? Why leave Britain?

All roads lead to my Wife! I met my Wife through a mutual love of American folk and singer-songwriters. She is American, brought up in Michigan, but has lived in New Jersey for many years. We were both on an internet discussion group for American singer-songwriter Dar Williams and one day she responded by e-mail to something I’d posted on the list. E-mails were exchanged, and a friendship grew out of it. I started a chat-room for participants in the Dar-list, and we found that often we were the last ones left talking at the end of the chat sessions. Something was happening! When one evening, she mentioned to myself and a friend from New Zealand that she had a spare ticket to a local concert and asked if one of us would like to go, I called her bluff. She also called mine. I came for my first visit to the US, the friendship grew into something more, and so started an expensive period of transatlantic phone calls and flights.

When we decided to get married, me moving to the US was the logical thing to do. I have a small family and network of friends, and she has a large, very close family. I had become very disenchanted about my then career in Information Technology (I wanted to work more with people than machines), and wanted a career change. My Wife has a successful (and pretty well-paid) career running a medical laboratory in New Brunswick, NJ. Not only that, but I loved being in the US.

I also want to say something briefly about New Jersey. It gets a bad press. Unfortunately, the most a lot of people see of it are the bad parts. I’m always amazed at how varied Jersey is. There’s plenty of nature, history, and beautiful places, and some of my New Jerseyan friends will now tell me off for letting out our secret!

2. What do you like most about the US?  Least?

One of the things I like the most about the US is the attention I get from being an Englishman. My English accent opens a lot of doors for me. I’ve lost count of the number of times a shop assistant, server, bartender or some random stranger has said “I love your accent – I could listen to it all day!” I met another Englishman a few years back who has lived in the US for quite some time. One of the things he does is record talking books for the blind. Apparently an English accent is very desirable in that field!

I also love the way that people are encouraged to be a success; to make something of their life. Successful people are revered here. In Britain, the successful are often regarded with suspicion, as if the only way they could have done well would be by exploiting others. The British media are constantly “building people up to knock them down.”  You’ll see stories about someone’s rise from obscurity to fame, but give it a year or two, and the press will be looking for a fall from grace to revel in.

I think the least attractive American trait (and I’m talking generalities here) is that of being very territorial. Not just about land. I can see how this is deeply ingrained historically, but it can have negative effects. Many people are so fiercely proud and protective of what they’ve achieved, that it can manifest itself as selfishness and arrogance. I’ve met so many wonderful people here that I know it’s not true of all, but outside of the US, if you ask people to quickly come up with a character sketch of an American, they will usually describe them as arrogant.

3. What do you miss most about the UK?

My family and friends. With the exception of my brother, who came out here to be the best man at my wedding, and has been here once since, my family have not been out here. My parents won’t fly. My friends have families, and it’s expensive to get everyone here for a visit.

I miss a good local pub. I’ve talked about this quite often in my blog. It’s a little difficult to explain to people the difference between an American bar and a British pub. It’s not the consuming of alcohol (although I accept that the British probably do drink too much); it’s more the social aspect. Things are a little different in Britain now (British pubs have been closing at an alarming rate in recent years, thanks to a number of reasons, among them a smoking ban, the economic climate, the price of beer, etc.) but I grew up when everyone had a local pub within walking distance. Going to the pub was a family outing, and it was as important a cultural center as the church.

I also miss great fish and chips. I know there are little pockets of civilization around the world where one can get great fish and chips, and I even created a Great Fish and Chips Map of the world, but one of the first things I do when I visit England is head for “the chippy.”

Fortunately, I get back to England about once every eighteen months.

4. Name at least one Brit citizen, past or present you admire. Why?

At the moment, I would say that Stephen Fry would be at the top of those who I admire. The man is so versatile. He’s a comedian, writer, raconteur, director, actor and geek. He has a vast knowledge of many subjects, and can turn his hand to pretty much anything. He has an amazing quality of being both quintessentially English, while being truly a world citizen. And, as those of us who follow him on Twitter know (follow him at @stephenfry), he’s an incredibly nice guy too.

 5. Same question as above, but US?

I’m going to go with a non-famous person, and someone who is actually now not living in the US. Ian Durand, born in Canada, but who lived in the US for many years, founded The Center for Community Renewal, a nonprofit group in my adopted home town of Edison, NJ. I met him soon after I moved to the US, and I joined his group. Ian is a retired person who has worked harder since he retired. During the time I knew him in Edison, he and his Wife April Cormaci (another person I admire deeply) worked tirelessly to help restore a sense of community to our township. Ian is one of those people who inspires others to do great things, and who is always thinking “outside of the box.” He also can fix pretty much anything! The couple moved to Canada a few years ago, supposedly to properly retire, but they seem to be as involved in their new community as they were here.

6. As a young man in Britain, how did you learn tarot? What about it interests you?

I guess I was in my teens when I bought my first deck of tarot cards. I think I was in a junk-store or charity shop. I think being a typical teen, I was attracted by the “weirdness factor.” Like many people, I started by following the instructions and “meanings” in what tarot readers usually refer to as the “LWB” or “Little White Book,” the tiny booklet that often comes with tarot cards. Like many people, I found that little booklet to be inadequate, so it was not long before I bought myself a couple of tarot books. I practiced giving readings to friends and family. Although they seemed happy with the readings, I always felt unsatisfied, somehow. There were all these images on the cards, with rich symbolism, and there was I, reading someone else’s “meanings” from a book and ignoring the images. Over the years, I went back to tarot, but each time, I gave up, disillusioned.

Then, a few years ago, I made the acquaintance online of a Venezualan tarot card reader living in New York City. He became somewhat of a mentor. He helped me to realize the folly of giving a reading based on some predefined meanings in a book. Everything fell into place when I learned to trust my eyes and my intuition. I find the key to a successful reading is not to overanalyze or apply logic (which is something that takes some work, especially since I have a rather logical and analytical mind!). I’m not so much interested in tarot as I feel driven to help people using tarot card readings as a tool. I’ve seen how useful a reading can be, and I want to share that with as many people as possible. That’s one reason I have a “pay what you will” policy. Some of the people who would find a reading the most useful are the very ones least able to pay the high fees many readers charge. So I tell them to wait until I’ve done the reading to see how valuable they think it will be, then pay me what they think it was worth, within their means.

7. What have you found to be the largest (or hardest to overcome) cultural differences between our two countries?

Mostly I’ve found that cultural differences are just differences – no big deal. I’m a lot better now, but one of the things I’ve found most difficult is the stunning array of choice that people are offered, whether it be varieties of items in the grocery store, or the huge size of many restaurant menus. In Britain, you order a sandwich, and you get what they offer as a sandwich. Over here, the choice of which sandwich you want is just the first of many choices. As a fairly indecisive person with very wide tastes, I’ve always found it difficult to choose what I want to eat at restaurants. Sometimes I have felt so overwhelmed by a menu that I’ve asked my Wife, “What do I want?” She knows my tastes, and will choose for me if I want. I’ve often joked that I’d like to open a British restaurant in the US and call it “Take what you’re given, or go without,” or “Like it, or lump it!”

On my very first day visiting the United States, my Wife-to-be picked me up from Newark Airport in New Jersey, after a very harrowing journey. When she finally got me to her house, she asked me whether I’d like a cup of tea (the Great British cure-all!). When I said yes, she started reeling off a large list of all the different teas she had. I almost had a complete breakdown at that point! Fortunately, she realized straight away that all I wanted was a cup of regular black tea and to de-stress. That’s one reason she’s my Wife!

Thank you, Graham, for your thoughtful answers to my interview questions!

By the way, dear readers, I’m sure he’d be happy to reply to any comments or questions you have!

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The Easter Peep

Dedicated to my sister, Pam

When I was  seven, I decided that I wanted a real live peep for Easter. Oh, now, I didn’t know anything about raising a little peep or, if it would be a fun pet to have. I just knew that I wanted one.

So, I got my peep. It was a little blue one. And, I liked it for about a day. I didn’t know it wouldn’t stay in the box I made for it. I didn’t know it would poop icky sticky stuff all over the floors. I didn’t know it wouldn’t eat cool stuff like carrots and lettuce. I didn’t know it wouldn’t sleep in the bed with me or follow me around like a little puppy dog. So, I quickly became bored with it and it became my sister Pam’s charge. She was 10.

As the peep got older, it lost its blue feathers and got a little comb on top of its head. Poor Pam! She wasn’t stuck with a little hen that would someday lay eggs and reward her with gentleness. No, the little peep became a mean rooster that would peck her when she tried to feed it or care for it.

The rooster was moved to a rabbit pen that was located along  the back border of the yard. (I think this pen was left by the previous owners of our our house.)  This rooster would bang at the the cage if I got near him and he would flare out his neck feathers. I was scared of him and didn’t want to get near him! Pam, on the other hand, had to go feed him everyday.  He hated her, too.

On Pam’s 11th birthday, the little bugger pecked her really hard. She remembers bopping him on the head, so he would learn not to peck the hand that feeds him. (She said that he was fine after the bopping because it really wasn’t a hard bop after all.)  It being her birthday, she quickly forgot about the sweet little peep turned monster. After dark, she remembered to go feed the bird (cause that was her duty to feed all the critters). When she got to the cage, she found it dead and torn apart. A weasel must have squirmed into the cage and killed it.  And, of, course, she felt so very bad that she had bopped it earlier that day.

That’s my sister’s peep story. She related it to me recently and asked if I remembered it. Honestly, I did not until she brought it up. And, my memories about him are still a bit fuzzy.  

I do have one question for her now that I’m hoping she can answer. Did that little devil rooster have a name?

P.S. For those wondering, Pam wasn’t permanently adversely affected by what I’m now calling “The little bastard rooster incident.” Forty and some odd years later, she’s quite okay (I think)!

And, by the way, Have a Happy Easter, everyone!

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