Thursday 26 December 2013

Merry Christmas Y'all!

I completed my first Christmas in Texas! 

After a quiet morning (and after some epic presents were exchanged - my personal favourite being the avocado slicer and masher) hubby and I headed over to Mimi's house in Red Oak for our first (yes, first) Christmas dinner. We were greeted by lots of extended family who had all mucked in to create a wonderful meal! There was ham, prime rib, brussel sprouts (YES!), green bean casserole, rolls, cheese potatoes, chopped salad, a rice dish (incredibly delicious but I have no idea what it was), trifle, pecan pie and much more! After more present opening, we went and chose some furniture from cousin Bob's lock-up (including a washer and dryer which are arriving today and I am so grateful for!!!) and then headed over to the in-laws for our second Christmas dinner (I'd paced myself in the first: I'd stretched, I'd meditated, I'd imagined the goal...I was ready). My mother-in-law had created a masterpiece of turkey, ham, mashed potato, corn, rolls, green bean casserole and stuffing (or 'dressing' over here). She had also made a variety of Christmas candy that were chocolatey, coco-nutty, pecany and pretzely. Needless to say, our fridge is now stocked with left-overs which we will be nibbled throughout the day. 

The icing on the cake was when I was presented with a box of Christmas crackers and a Christmas pudding to make me feel at home!

This is a Christmas cracker (I'm not being patronising or filling space in my blog because I've run out of things to say (...), I just know that many of my US friends have never heard of the strange English tradition of pulling crackers at the dinner table. And no, it's not rude):


You pull it like this:


(I am slightly concerned for this woman as I know how sudden and with great force a Christmas cracker can crack. I hope the floor was padded.)

Once the cracker has cracked, a prize, a joke/game and a paper crown tumble out for your pleasure. It is custom for the crowns to be worn throughout the Christmas meal, unless you're like my hubby who rips his when he tries to ram it on his head (there has to be a certain amount of finesse to the art of paper crowning).



FYI: There were no pigs in blankets on my Christmas dinner plate as over here they look like this...


 ...and it would be weird to have a weener in a roll with turkey and bean casserole. In England, our pigs in blankets are sausages wrapped in bacon and are a traditional part of the Christmas dinner. 


FYI again: They don't celebrate Boxing Day over here!!! Apparently the tradition stems from when servants and tradesmen would receive boxes of gifts from their bosses the day after Christmas. It is recognised as a holiday in the UK, Canada, Hong Kong, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Trinidad and Tobago and a few other Commonwealth nations. Basically, it's Christmas Day number two and a chance to roll around in food-baby agony from the day before (especially if you had two Christmas dinners - my fingers can barely type and look like pigs in blankets, the fat, weener-in-a-roll type)   


To sum up, Christmas day over here is pretty much the same with a few differences and twists, but the main part is that family come together and bless the 'fribbits' (another hubby word) out of each other while remembering how baby Jesus came to bless the 'fribbits' out of us. 

Merry Christmas y'all!!!  

Saturday 21 December 2013

Feeling broody

I was asked by new friends if Hubby and I would be having children soon. I replied 'not for a couple of years, but I do get broody.' They looked at me in confusion. 'Broody?' I replied 'yeah, like a chicken. I'm ready to lay some eggs.'

This is a phrase used a lot by women in Britain to mean 'having a strong desire to have a baby'. It is a term likened to hens to explain their behaviour when ready to lay eggs, so basically when a Brit uses it she means 'I'm ready to fluff up my feathers and incubate some eggs!'

Thursday 19 December 2013

Queso

Queso is a warm, cheesy, Tex-Mex dip for chips (aka crisps). It is very popular over here and I am a rather enormous fan. 

Hubby asked me to make some one evening, so I Googled a recipe and headed to Walmart for the ingredients, which included Monterey Jack cheese, Colby Jack cheese and jalapeƱos. Meticulously, I combined all the ingredients in a pan and stirred and stirred. Unfortunately, the recipe told me to whisk flour into the mixture as a thickener, but, it being our second-ish week of Newly-wedded bliss, we did not own one, so I improvised with a fork. The end result was the right colour but it seemed to have a runnier consistency than Quesos I had tried before. 

Hubby came home full of excitement to try the home-made Queso and I optimistically offered him a dipped chip. He took one bite, frowned, told me it tasted like dust, and bought two pre-made jars from Walmart. 

Two things I learned from this fiasco:

1. A fork is NOT a substitute for a whisk (Hubby also bought me one of those pretty quickly)

2. A far easier method of making Queso is to buy Velveeta (aka fake cheese) and mix it with diced tomatoes and green chiles. 

(Ironically, while gathering my flawed ingredients from Walmart I saw tons of Velveeta boxes EVERYWHERE, including three in the arms of the shopper in front of me at the till. And it was on offer. I think God was trying to make it easy for me)

Monday 16 December 2013

Do we do this in England???

The White Elephant present game is like Secret Santa but you don't buy for anyone in particular. There is normally a theme for the gifts - at our church Christmas party it was 'useful and/or unusual'. Everyone places their gifts in the centre and takes a number. Participants can either select a gift from the centre when their number is called or 'steal' from someone else (it can get messy!). If a gift is stolen twice, it becomes locked, so if you're a couple you can use tactics, which is how the hubby and I landed a Phil Wickham Christmas album - boosh! Our other gift was a VHS entitled 'Tough Questions about Sex' circa 1970 (from the look of the creepy host on the cover). Trust the newly-weds to land that one! I went a rather festive colour. 

Other gifts included tortilla warmers, Poopourri (a spray for the toilet bowl that acts as a scented film - anything with an offensive odour that plops through will be immediately disguised. They also come in handy handbag size. I'm not sure if this is genius or weird), s'more forks ( I had my first one at a cook-out a few weeks back and they definitely leave you wanting s'more), pen knives, coco cola glasses and a cello-tape dispenser in the form of a blue man on a toilet (of course! A teacher claimed that one rather quickly).

To conclude our American style Christmas party, we played a festive game of Jeopardy which our community group won, even though I didn't know that eggnog originated from England - I said Germany rather confidently and then hid my face in shame. 

   

Thursday 12 December 2013

A Christmas gift from Lupe and her husband Eligio



A poinsettia! Or 'Feliz Navidad' in Spanish. Don't worry, I realised it wasn't an edible gift this time, and no, I didn't learn that from trying. 

A great British pastime...

Baking mince pies at Christmas!!!

Mince pies are little cups of pastry filled with mince meat, which, contrary to what it suggests, is not beef or lamb. In fact, these little cups of joy are sweet and filled with raisins, suet, currants, peel, apple and mixed spices, including cinnamon, coriander, dill, fennel, cloves, ginger and nutmeg (can you tell I'm reading this off a jar label?!) There are some great recipes for making home-made mince meat, but it is a long process and suet is pretty impossible to find over here (apart form at the British Emporium, but then you have to pay an arm and a leg to get it). So I bought my jar and asked the experts, aka my mum and nanna, how best to make the pastry. They gave me the following recipes to try:  


1lb (2 cups) plain flour,
2tsp mixed spice (optional) 8oz (1 cup) butter 3tbsp icing (powdered) sugar 3 egg yolks, beaten
Sift flour and spice and rub in butter until it resembles fine breadcrumbs. Stir in icing sugar, egg yolks and 3tblsp cold water. Knead to a soft dough. Chill for 15mins before rolling out. Fill with mincemeat, cover with dampened lids. Brush with egg white. Freeze for 30mins, then pop in oven @ 375f for 20 mins. Dust with icing sugar to serve.

OR
10oz margarine 4oz castor sugar 4tblsp beaten egg 1lb plain flour sifted with a pinch each of bicarbonate of soda and salt.
Cream the margarine and castor sugar. Gradually add the beaten egg. Gradually work in the sifted dry ingredients to make a soft dough. Wrap and chill until firm. Bake mince pies for 15 mins @ 400f, then brush with egg and sprinkle with castor sugar. Return to oven for a further 2-3 mins.

A little tip from me to you: make sure you own a rolling-pin before attempting to make pastry. I won't tell you what I used, but it was interesting.
Of course, while making mince pies you should find your favourite Christmas album and crank it up, unless you're me who re-discovers the best of Hanson and gets distracted by Hmmm-bopping and wanting to know the answer to 'Where's the Love?'

When your mince pies are ready, serve warm (you can re-heat them in the oven on a low temp) and with brandy butter (if you want to be very British) or cream.



Wednesday 11 December 2013

A shocking discovery...

I have discovered that within one straight mile of my apartment there are five fast food restaurants: Burger King, Whataburger (the husbands not so secret guilty pleasure - having a joint bank account, I always catch him out), Popeye's Chicken and Biscuits, MacDonalds (of course) and Wendy's. There is also a Starbucks and a drive-thru Seattle Coffee Company. So many and so much choice! It makes me want to buy grapes and work-out.

Sunday 8 December 2013

Oh the weather outside is frightful!!!!

Texas has the most unpredictable weather! 

On Thursday I was wearing shorts, basking in glorious sunshine at Grapevine and watching this hard working and enthusiastic American earn his wages:



One day later, I was walking to the gym in my winter coat with furry hood up and watching ice rain down in the evening.

Two days later we woke up in Narnia. 

To the excited children of Dallas (bless them, they don't see snow often) it looked like a winter wonderland until they ran outside, slipped on their bums and realised that throwing ice balls instead of snow balls isn't that much fun. 

On the first day, we stayed in, tucked up warm, eating food, watching Lost and, because of the latter, feeling thoroughly confused. On the second day, it took us forty five minutes to de-ice the car with no scraper, no de-icer, no heated windscreens and no gloves (cue me complaining that I'd left all my winter gear in England because I was advised that I wouldn't need it - pah!). We then proceeded to drive on an ice rink of death and pretend we were in an armageddon film. As we drove, we passed enormous branches laying on the roadside that has snapped from trees due to the big freeze. Today, the ice has started to thaw and crash dangerously to the ground from roofs in slabs. 




  What is going on Texas, you crazy boof?! I bet 100% I'll be back in shorts before the year is out. 

Thursday 5 December 2013

The British Emporium

I have discovered how to get my fix of Britain right here in the heart of Texas. 

I don't need to spend $1000 dollars on a flight, oh no my friend. I need only to travel 20 minutes up the road to a heavenly place called the British Emporium, run by Sylvia (who has, incidentally, kept her clipped British accent after 20 years of living here, whereas I find myself accused by my sister over Skype as sounding American already after a pitiful month. I am an accent chameleon. I once spent an entire flight from Australia to England chatting to the person next to me who, at the end of the journey, enquired as to which part of Australia I was from. I'd been there 2 weeks). 

The shop is cramped with narrow isles (a dedication to British roads), and FULL of British treats. At the moment, it is Christmas land for me, with mince pies, brandy butter, Christmas pudding, Cadbury's chocolate box selections, clotted cream fudge, mulled wine, shortbread, stinky cheese (the mouldier the better) and crackers (pulling a cracker at the Christmas table and wearing jolly paper hats is not done here...give me time...). Apart from food products, there were other necessities for a Brit living abroad: Pears soap, Savlon (?!), Doctor Who memorabilia (of course), teapots and mugs sporting every single icon associated with Britain. By the time I left with my goods I was all for purchasing a Union Jack flag (they sold them by the door) and singing God Save the Queen (I think my mother-in-law would have been slightly mortified). As it was, I left with a polite 'Cheerio and thank you'. 

My purchases included: 



...to have on my...

 

(I made my mother-in-law try one with Marmite on it. Let's just say she was not a fan. In fact, I have yet to find anyone over here that is. It is my mission. I shall carry my Marmite wherever I go and find a fellow lover)


...the best jam EVER (Christmas flavour - who care's what's in it!!! It could be Reindeer for all I know, but it's just so darn good!) and brandy butter to accompany the mince pies I will be making with a jar of mincemeat that I also purchased.



I also grabbed two Cornish pasties which we will be having for tea in 15 minutes. I researched Cornish pasties (as you do) and found out that tin miners used to eat them because it formed a complete meal without the need for cutlery and the thick pastry kept the food inside warm for a long time. AND apparently they used to hold the pasty along the crusted edge with their dirty, arsenic covered fingers which they later threw away to prevent themselves form getting a tummy ache or, you know, dying. Of course this may all be myth. 

Here is a picture of our Cornish pasties:



They contain beef, swede (or 'rutabaga' over here - I know, great word!), potato and onions. Yum!

Tuesday 3 December 2013

Fact

Walmart's apples are the size of a baby's head. I had to take a rest half way through! 

Seagulls

Our alarm is the sound of seagulls. A strange one, some may say, but for me, it reminds me of English holidays. Living in Dallas, we are MILES from the coast, and I really feel that I no longer live on an island. Wherever you are in England, you can drive to the seaside and back for an afternoon out, so seagulls can be spotted in every city, town and village. It may come as a surprise to many Brits that I long for the squawking, obnoxious call of seagulls. I even miss their incredible ability to steal an entire ice cream cone from the hands of an unsuspecting holiday maker (witnessed first hand on Brighton Pier - the poor lady screamed and fell to the ground), and their precision when plucking a chip (french fry) from the air that has been tossed by a rare gull lover. It's a simple truth - when something from the background hum to your life is gone, you miss it.

Imagine my surprise and sheer joy then when I walked across Walmart's car-park and heard the sweet squawk of a gull! I stopped, turned and gazed up at the bird sitting on top of a lamp post. It was a beautiful moment, but I do think the poor bugger was lost.   


The Tomato Capital Y’all

This is a piece I included in my dissertation for my Masters in Creative Writing. It's based on an experience I had in Texas during my first visit almost one year ago, and one of the moments I discovered how 'freakin legit' (as my husband would say) Texas is! 


Jacksonville, Texas, home of the largest bowl of salsa and the best dang Texas barbeque you’re ever likely to get.
I bit into my beef steak burger at Jacksonville Joe’s. As I chewed, I was aware that every set of eyes at the table was fixed on me, awaiting my response.
‘It’s good,’ I garbled through my mouthful, then took another and smiled to confirm. Outside, a concrete tomato weighing 665 pounds and sporting a patched up ‘boo-boo’ grinned at me. I grinned back, reminded of the small town’s status as the Tomato Capital of the World. In celebration, 235 concrete tomatoes had been commissioned, each decorated with its own unique flare and character.
The walls of Joe’s were littered with scrawled names and ‘I was here’ phrases. I was asked to leave my mark, making sure to write where I was from too so that everyone would know that an English girl had sampled the cuisine. When I was directed to a section of the wall designated to my elderly host’s family, I felt a warm surge of affection for the people of Jacksonville. 
I took another bite of my burger, feeling a glob of salsa escape the bun and drop onto my chin. I reached for my napkin to remove it when a booming southern voice called across the cafe.
‘Is there a lady from England in here?’
I turned in response, my mouth full and the salsa still sat on my chin.
‘Hello,’ I managed through the beef.
Three of my companions at the table who were local to Jacksonville acknowledged the large man as the Senator and dipped their heads respectfully. I cringed and cursed at my incessant need to tear large chunks from my food.    
The Senator shook my hand and asked if I had signed the wall.
This must be what fame feels like, I thought as I sucked the last string of beef from my teeth.

From the corner of my eye I could see the rapid rise and fall of my fiancĆ©’s shoulders as he tried to supress his amusement at the situation. I ignored him and gazed up at the Senator with my best English-rose smile. This must have won him over, as in the next breath I had an invitation to see his Long Horn Cattle. My fiancĆ© stopped laughing abruptly and choked on his coke.  

Monday 2 December 2013

Bits and Bobs

Hubby asked where his wallet was yesterday. I told him it was in the bits and bobs drawer. After lots of opening and closing doors, looking in corners and under the bed, it was clear he had no idea what I had just said. #language barrier (I apologise for hash tagging, it will never happen again)

Friday 29 November 2013

Thanksgiving

I experienced my first Thanksgiving yesterday! There was turkey (not a whole one - I assured my husband that we were not up to the challenge), yams (or sweet potatoes to us Brits), cranberry sauce (home-made!!!), pyjamas till midday and jazz hands at the 87th Macy Parade. It was glorious!

I set my alarm, sprang out of bed, bellowed 'Happy Thanksgiving' and ran into the lounge to switch on the Parade. While making pancakes for breakfast, I was serenaded by Broadway super stars as they gave sneak peaks into the latest and biggest musicals - what a way to start the day! The floats were bright and full of waving hands and sparkling teeth. Snoopy, Spiderman (whose left arm was tragically deflated by a Central Park tree), The Pillsbury Dough Boy (my personal favourite - he's so cute and fat!), Sponge Bob, Uncle Sam (still not quite sure who this is?), Buzz Lightyear (who injured a worker when a cart in his entourage ran over her foot), Sonic the Hedgehog, Ronald MacDonald, and Hello Kitty were only a few of the enormous balloons making their way through the rammed streets of New York City, flying lower than normal due to high winds. I watched about a billion High School marching bands perform, all scarily professional, and thousands of workers dressed up as clowns, sea creatures, stars, gingerbread men, elves, fried eggs (?!), Christmas trees, cupcakes and many more amusing things. My favourite were the children made to sit in human-size present boxes with matching lids on their heads. Father Christmas finished the spectacle with a very convincing beard and belly, and I found myself feeling all warm and fuzzy.

We ate our dinner...

(the cat was particularly excited)


...went for an afternoon walk at Arbor Hills Nature Preserve...




...saw a questionable swing...

(The chastity belt)


...and finished the day with a trip to the cinema to see 'Hunger Games' (FYI, at many cinemas in Dallas you sit at tables and order food and drink from menus! You just press a button and a server arrives! No queuing needed. Although, we do love to queue in England, maybe we'd miss it?)   

To conclude, I think I bellowed 'Happy Thanksgiving' ten times, and the only mini disaster that occurred was when we lost the cat and discovered her in the saucepan cupboard. All in all, a perfect success!!! 




 

Tuesday 26 November 2013

Tamales!!!!

Lupe (my mother-in-law suggested this might be how she spells it) brought us a shiny package of home-made Tamales yesterday that her friend at church made for us (she's networking to provide us with more food - I love her.)

Tamales are made of masa, which is a corn-based dough, and can contain meat. Ours have pork inside. The finished product is steamed or boiled in a leaf wrapper which is discarded before eating (a fact I did NOT know on my first Tamale experience) 

Here is a picture of our Tamales which will be devoured this coming evening:




Monday 25 November 2013

A trip to the Doctor's

I have discovered that a trip to the Doctor's in Dallas is exactly the same as in England: you wait, you fill out forms, you wait, you get weighed, prodded, poked, you wait, you experience blood loss, answer probing questions and embarrass yourself (I'm pretty sure I freaked my doctor out by holding his hand a couple of times when, looking back, I think he was initiating a manly handshake. Well, what does he expect when he takes me into a room with Disney characters painted on the walls?!) 


A busy weekend...

On Saturday evening, my new Texan family were out in force! It was our American Wedding Reception, and I learnt many things:

  • I have an Uncle Scooter who can tear up a dance floor with masses of enthusiasm (AMAZING) 
  • I have an Uncle Bill and cousin Brad who are going to teach me all things Texan, including Texas Hold'em, Tex Mex and something to do with horseshoes (?!)
  • I have family and friends who were willing to travel from Austin and Ohio to celebrate with us (!) 
  • My husband has Cherokee blood (his great great great grandfather was half Cherokee, and his father (add another great) was full Cherokee (or was it mother??? There were a lot of 'greats' being thrown about, I got confused)
  • If you place cinnamon sticks in jars with candles, it smells like Christmas (I was sniffing centrepieces for most of the night) 
  • Apple Pie Moonshine tastes like sweet, glorious Heaven
  • Two-stepping to country music looks like so much fun (PLEASE hubby???) and can be done in true Cowboy fashion at Billy Bob's in Fort Worth
  • I have developed a love for the song 'Country Girl' (Shake it for me) by Luke Bryan. In fact, put it on after you've read this and dance around. Go on! Shake your inner country butt! Too far? Sorry. 

Thursday 21 November 2013

My bank does it again!

Cookie Fridays are one thing, but free dog biscuits?! 

My bank has a drive-through. I kid you not, you don't even have to go into the building to make a deposit or take out money orders. You can drive up, insert your deposit/instructions into a space-age tube which gets sucked up into the bank (I have no idea if it goes under ground, over head or through space and time) where a lady on a microphone says 'Thank you, ma'am' and completes your request. AND if you have a dog with you (so bankers Xavier and Brenda told me today) they give you free dog biscuits through the sucky tube thing!!! So not only do I need to make sure I go to the bank every Cookie Friday, but now I need to get a dog!

(You may have noticed that I am already on first name terms with my bankers. I think it's because I'm the famous English girl who brought in a wad of pounds and English cheques for them to covert into dollars. (I'm sure when they see me coming they press the secret panic button under the desk)) 


Gifts from Loopy

Our next door neighbours are a Mexican couple who moved to Dallas from Mexico City. I'm not going to guess how old they are, but they have grown up children with children of their own, so they are definitely a lot older than me. Anyway, I would like to announce that they are the best neighbours we could ever have hoped for. Why? Because they bring us food. What kind of food? Full on, authentic, home-cooked, Mexican food with all the kicks and sombreros (I imagine that's what the food would wear if it could choose an item of clothing - that is probably the most stereotypical thing I could have said and I apologise). 

We've had soup, corn tortillas, some kind of sweet bread (I couldn't make out the name), white cheese straight from Mexico City (similar to mozzarella) and even a cookbook that we have been told to choose anything from for Loopy (that's the wife's name - I have no idea of the spelling but that's how it sounded when she said it) to make for us in her kitchen of spicy wonders. We think we are going to choose Chilorio, which is chile-seasoned pork served in flour tortillas with rice, beans and guacamole. God bless Loopy! Needless to say, whenever there is a knock on the door, I get very excited. 

I decided to gift them back one day with some authentic English cuisine, so I made scones. Naturally. Feedback from Loopy and her husband was very positive and I will be inviting them in for tea and crumpets soon (I'm even stereotypical about my own people). 

Tuesday 19 November 2013

The Cable Guy

I had the loveliest cable guy in my apartment fixing our Wifi and calling me ‘ma’am’! No word of a lie, he was the sweetest man on Earth. When I asked him if he would like a drink, he grinned and asked if I had any hot tea. I served it to him in a cup and saucer and he was thrilled! 

We sipped and chatted for ages. He told me he was from Mississippi and that he’d visited 35 American states. He told me he had dreams of going to England, Rome and other places he’d seen on the puzzles he used to make (!). He said 'Ma'am, what's that place where those boats go up and down outside the houses?' I said, 'Venice?' He said, 'Yes! I'd like to go there very much. I think that's just crazy!' (Please read that in a Mississippi accent. I know, I can't do one either, but it's fun to try!) I gave him a magazine of places to see in Britain and he said he would use them to paint from (!!). We then spoke about his work and he told me that he recently had a job in a mansion where there were nine bathrooms, two cinemas and two swimming pools connected by a slide! One man lived there, he told me. 'That’s too much house for one man,' he said (Do the accent again!). 

When he left I had a ridiculous smile on my face. Don’t you just love meeting genuinely friendly, honest and interesting people? A sweet accent helps too!

Monday 18 November 2013

An American Staple

My first batch of oatmeal cookies with thanks to Betty Crocker (The Delia Smith of the U.S)! I made them in a saucepan – must buy a mixing bowl.






When America and England come together to make magic: 



The difference between porridge and oatmeal


There is none. Well, maybe oatmeal is coarser. Maybe. Someone send me some porridge and I'll eat them side by side. I'd be more than happy to do that.  


(I apologise if this offends any budding porridge/oatmeal buffs. My tastes buds may be wrong and I take full responsibility for their mistakes as I am the one who grew them.)  

Sunday 17 November 2013

Down-Town

Yesterday I took my first trip to Down-town Dallas. There was so much more there than I expected! When driving past on the highway, the city looks compact and financial, the kind of place where people go to work and not play. But oh, how wrong I was! There are museums, restaurants, parks, plus the sight of the JFK shooting which is pretty macabre, especially when you see the X that marks the spot (this Thursday, 22nd November, will mark the 50th anniversary of his death and the 25th year of my husbands life, just in case you wanted to send us cake, which I'm sure you do! We appreciate cake.) 




(The shooter was on the floor second from the top and on the far right) 




(A 'Grassy Knoll' sign on the grassy knoll, just in case you were unsure)



We paid a visit to the Dallas Museum of Art (because it was free!) and it was great - a mixture of modern and classical art from a wide range of cultures, plus loads to play on (cue me and the husband doodling on the Art computers for 45 minutes) 




There was also a place where you could create a piece of art using various materials provided and leave it with a message for someone to pick up and take home. Mine turned out looking like a man on a cross, so I called it 'Man on a Cross', and I took one made by 6 year old Christian entitled 'Rovon the Fighting Robot'. Although meant for children, the average age of the people working away and getting creative at each station was probably 30. Everyone likes to glue and stick, right?! 

We discovered, to my ENORMOUS glee, that you can take a Segway tour around the city! Genius! Here is proof: 



I have decided that this will become the thing that ALL my visitors do. Mum, that includes you! 



Saturday 16 November 2013

Don't Walk

People don’t walk in the Dallas area. I discovered this the other day when I told my husband that I was going to walk to Walmart and he could meet me there after work. He asked me to wait for him to get home so he could drive me, but I said no, it’s ok, I’d like the fresh air. Ok, he said, but be VERY careful. Am I going to get shot? I asked. No, he said, just be wary of cars, they’re not used to pedestrians. Do you know who else isn't used to pedestrians in the Dallas area? The little green man whose job it is to make it safe for you to cross. He either doesn't show up or does a quick cheeky flash before disappearing behind the red hand again. At one I waited for FIFTEEN minutes before giving up and following the lead of a jay-walking native. When he does make an appearance to tell you it’s safe to cross, he LIES, because cars are still allowed to turn right! Little Green Man, me and you got beef.  

The Crinkly Mattress

My husband asked me why our bed had a nappy (I apologise - diaper) on it the other day. I explained patiently that it was a mattress protector. He then proceeded to thrash about on the bed to point out the noise it made (to be fair, it is pretty loud and crinkly, but who sleeps like that?!). He said that he wouldn't be able to sleep, that he’d have to sleep on the sofa. I explained that eventually we could budget for the more luxurious, softer one (at least we didn't go for the cheapest of the cheap, which was basically a sheet of plastic that would have us sliding off the bed altogether). After a bit of wriggling from him and a LOT of giggling from me, we both slept soundly and our mattress was protected.     

Pure Genius

Every Friday my bank gives away free cookies and coffee. COOKIE FRIDAYS. I never thought I could love a bank, but I do, I really do. 

As promised, an American cucumber:


 


Shorter in length than an English one, slightly bumpier and a darker green but just as tasty and much cheaper over here (no contest when you’re on a budget!) 

Friday 15 November 2013

Questions answered...

I have recently been asked some questions about England from some lovely American readers that are of great importance and that require immediate answers, so here goes...


1. What is a crumpet? 

I shall start by saying that it is NOT a pancake or English muffin. It is a crumpet and a delicacy that we English enjoy at breakfast, afternoon tea or, as I discovered a few days before leaving for the States, at lunchtime with a banana milkshake. Crumpets are made from flour, yeast, sugar and milk and they have these ingenious holes in the top that make the butter ooze into its core to create a squidgy, sensational food experience. We serve them hot, and I would definitely recommend toasting them on an open fire. There are some great recipes online - I might try some out soon!



2. Do you call an English muffin an English muffin or just a muffin? 

A muffin. These are my second favourite after crumpets. In my eyes, they need more ingenious holes. 


3. If a chip is really a French fry, what do you call an American chip? 

We call them crisps and they come in all shapes, sizes and flavours. We even have vegetable crisps! Beetroot, parsnip, carrot - we like to crisp up just about anything! 


I hope that helps! Keep the questions coming!! 

The Estate Fair

I went to an Estate Fair today where an entire house is opened up and practically everything inside is for sale (apart from the light fittings as the signs indicated). These usually happen after a person dies; it's a way for the family to sort through and sell on their belongings. This particular house was full to the brim. We traipsed through the living room, the kitchen, the garage and the bedrooms. By the time I left, I felt as though I knew the person. She was a collector, a cook, a mother, a grandmother; she liked to sew, to paint, to cosy up with a quilt, and at Christmas time, her house was full of decorations and family. It felt odd to be rifling through a stranger's life, to be passing items with little interest that may have been her most prized possessions; her favourite mug, the chair her husband sat in, her mother's dishes. I wondered how she would feel to see it all laid bare and sold.  

I came away with a chair and a bench. As I placed them in my new home and thought about how excited I was to have them, I decided that she wouldn't have minded at all.      

Wednesday 13 November 2013

Butternut Squashed

I made this husband:




a fancy meal from a set of recipes I found in a magazine entitled '10 Ways to Serve a Butternut Squash'. It consisted of butternut squash (shock!), crispy bacon, avocado and a fried (or ‘sunny side up’) egg. The afore mentioned husband ate a few mouthfuls and said it was weird. He later shared this information on the phone with the WiFi man. 

How to open a tube (let’s go with tube) of Pillsbury biscuits

1.       Purchase a tube of Pillsbury biscuits from Walmart (or anyway really. I just have a fascination with Walmart at the moment. It's like Asda, but different (they sell cacti to EAT!)) They look like this:




2.       Do NOT use a can opener (especially one that does nothing but tear the label off)

3.       After ignoring number 1 completely and using said can opener, do NOT attempt to finish the job with a pair of scissors while the dough inside expands at an alarmingly rapid rate until you feel there might be more on the outside of the tin than inside and you lose sight of why you are even bothering.

4.       After ignoring 1 and 2, do NOT throw the scissors aside and use your bare hands (this will result in a cut that will not stop bleeding and a confused new (and LOVELY) Texan friend who has no idea what you mean when you ask her to bring a plaster round. FYI, it is ALWAYS a ‘band aid’ if you want to save time and stem the flow of blood quicker)

5.       ALWAYS read the instructions, which clearly state that NO can opener should be used in the process, and that actually the tube should simply ‘pop’ open with a twisting motion focused in the centre (which my husband demonstrated when he arrived home, God bless him).

6.       Throw away the tube with or without (it’s your preference) a string of choice words and mumblings.

7.       Bake your biscuits and enjoy them with pretty much anything (as seems to be the Texan way – I recommend butter and honey, wisdom provided by my sister-in-law).

Here are my first attempts:

  



FYI: Here are the temperature conversions (crucial) from centigrade to Fahrenheit that I have taped to my fridge (Yes, that is a Texas fridge magnet):



FYI part 2: We did not buy this fridge, it CAME WITH THE APARTMENT! Thank you Texas! (That does not happen very often in England, hence my glee…we also got a microwave and it’s HUGE!) In fact, here are some pictures, just for kicks:





Tuesday 12 November 2013

Hey y'all!

My name is Rosie High and I recently moved from England to Dallas, Texas (as in, on the first of this month). Why, you ask? Because I fell in love, dang it! 

This is the live story of how I trip, and very occasionally glide, through the steep learning curve that is moving to Texas.

I will be attempting to answer some tough questions for y'all, like what is the difference between porridge and oatmeal? How do you open a tube/can/whatever they come in, of Pillsbury biscuits? What does an American cucumber look like? (You may have noticed that food will play a huge part in this journey. AS IT SHOULD.) Will my husband ever take me country dancing? (I figured if I put it out there into the void he might be more inclined to. Feel free to pressure him in the comments below.) Will the petals of my red English rose fade to a Texan yellow? (Look out, we’re getting poetic!) 

So join me y’all (that’s my second 'y’all' in one paragraph -fist bump!) as I discover the finer details of the lone star state (by that I mean a tiny section of it, about the size of my thumb nail on the map that I’m looking at which may be bigger or smaller than yours).


(I would like to apologise for any offence I have caused with my possible improper use of ‘y’all’ and/or ‘dang it’, and warn you that it will probably happen again.)