Archive for the 'OK in the USA' Category

Just had to share a little incident with you all. An uplifting vignette from my week.

The other afternoon, I was feeling a bit smug and pleased with myself for having gotten a roast in the oven . . . a level of thinking ahead on the dinner plan that does not always happen. (When it does, I like to celebrate with a little quiet smugness.) Anyhow, dinnertime rolled around, the table was set, drinks were poured, and I pulled the roast out of the oven. Imagine the severe blow that my smugness received, when it turned out that the roast was not cooked through. (Long story, and you don’t want to hear about it, but it all came down to the fact that I didn’t have a pan with a lid and my little improvised solution threw off the cooking time.)

So. There we were. We had to resort to a quick fix of some sort, and there weren’t really any options floating around in the cupboards. But, happily, the kids had all gotten their report cards from school that day, and a fun little perk is that they get gift certificates to Arby’s based on how many “A”s they get. We had a few of those to cash in, so we decided to do that for dinner.

Off we all toddled to Arby’s. On the way there, my mother-in-law called and I was chatting with her on the phone as we walked in. Ben took the kids up to the counter to order, and I stood back a little to finish my conversation. Continue reading ‘And that’s why they call me Grace.’

We’re home again, home again! And it’s Thanksgiving, so of course none of you are reading this – you’re probably all far too busy peeling potatoes and stuffing turkeys. I, however, am sitting here quite negligently drinking my coffee in my pajamas still, having just dug out of my suitcases all the English goodies that we brought back for the kids. And I really feel that I need to post this quite quickly before I pull my act together and go dive into the great festivities in the kitchen.

Does anyone happen to recall the terrible travesty of the canned American Style Hot Dogs which I’ve had occasion to mention in the past? In case anyone missed this previously, here is a little visual aid for you.

Yes. I know. No American that I know of would dream of eating one of those . . . and yet the producers of this horrifying food-stuff have placed the stars and stripes upon it and, it seems to me, are willfully misleading a trusting British public. I did my patriotic best to explain to people while we were there that these are NOT in fact “American Style” – and the end result was that some dear friends of ours gave us a can for Christmas. Our present to them, incidentally, was a small ceramic Starbucks cup to hang on the Christmas tree. Each, in fact, giving the other a little something to remember them by.

The result was that, as we traveled home last night, we had buried in the depths of our luggage this can of American hot dogs. We had loads of other things too – mallow tea cakes, and chocolatines, and mince pies, and mincemeat filling, and wine, and jam, some Bucatini, some goose fat, some suet, and even a loaf of Tiger Bread which was the specific request of our 6 year old. The customs people noticed that we had listed food on our declaration form, and we got pulled out of the line for an agricultural exam. They scanned our luggage, and then made us open up one suitcase for them to inspect. And guess what got pulled out for a lengthy exam? Yes. The Stars and Stripes can of hot dogs. They said, and I quote, “What IS this thing?” They passed it around and had a consultation about it. They looked over the ingredients. They checked on where it was made.

And then they confiscated it.

Yes indeed. Not allowed into the country. And I was very proud. America will not be sullied by such things. Our standards remain high, and our borders secure.

. . . and that is that you need to buy this book!

I mean, really. How festive is this?! It’s finally out and about and ready to order.

Ben wrote this biography of King Alfred last year (while he was also working on his Oxford dissertation, rowing for Christ Church, being a dad to five kids, and having chronic car trouble.) Impressive, yes? Of course, this also means that the book was written right dead spang in the middle of Alfred’s old stompin’ grounds, and that lends the book an especial aura of authenticity. Oxford is only about 30 minutes from Wantage – the birthplace of King Alfred . . . and the White Horse is right next door. It was definitely one of our favorite Saturday afternoon destination spots while we were there. Since you clearly don’t believe me, I’m going to proceed to post some photos to prove it.

Here are the kids – nestled right into the huge chalk carving and looking out over the Berkshire Downs. However, if you read Ben’s book, you’ll find out that they’re sitting precisely where Alfred fought a bloody battle with the Vikings and won his first victory.

About two miles off into the fields is an old castle mound known as “Alfred’s Castle.” This is most likely where Alfred camped with his men before the battle, while the Vikings had the higher ground at the White Horse (previous picture where the kids are sitting). We tromped out to see Alfred’s Castle one cold, drizzly day . . . and we took a picnic. We had to pick our way through a muddy forest, and climb over an awful tangly heap of branches to Continue reading ‘I have something to say’