Assimilation

On this most American of holidays, I have a confession to make: I am no longer completely 100% Born in the USA.

Or at least my accent isn't. We have a good friend who is a voice coach and works with various actors on regional accents. She asked to record me and Himself as examples of a General American accent, and we of course said yes. So she came over with a bunch of recording equipment and a list of words and phrases for us to read. Imagine my surprise as, working my way through the list, I was asked to repeat myself on several occasions, with specific directions as to how to revert to my typical American accent! Apparently I've picked up some British pronunciations, but only when I'm talking to British people. When I start talking about America (I talked about Thanksgiving traditions for a bit), my accent goes completely back to "general American". Hunh.

The most infuriating thing, however, is that my husband had absolutely no issues with maintaining a true blue American accent, a fact I attribute to his innate stubbornness. Or something like that.

I hope you all have a wonderful 4th of July!

One year

At this exact moment, one year ago today, the girls were fast asleep in our friends' spare room, and we were enjoying a lovely dinner with perhaps far too much wine. We'd been in the UK for twelve hours, arriving after a harrowing travel adventure, and had the clothes on our back and our passports, nothing more. A couple of weeks later, we had some of our stuff, and Himself had started at his new office. The girls and I had a bit of a rough transition*, going from fulltime work/daycare to fulltime stay at home parent/kids.

We explored the local playgrounds, eventually got internet access, went to various and sundry castles. We went to the land of haggis, and the land of Cycling and Sunflowers. We went "home". The girls started school. I started work, with an attendent shift in my aerobic activity.

The girls had their first real autumn. We had a real London Christmas, complete with snow.

In the new year, we visited a new continent, got driver's licenses, and have truly settled in to our new home.

Looking back, it seems impossible to reconcile the stress and adjustment of those last weeks in Houston/first weeks in London with how smoothly things are going now**. I knew at the time that it would all work out, but that thought doesn't exactly make it any easier at the time.

The girls are blossoming. They've grown an incredible amount; Dev is reading (!) and loving school, Boo is still pathologically independent, and so, so sweet. Himself is enjoying his work, and I'm enjoying mine when I'm actually there to get anything done. More importantly, I am enjoying having the opportunity to both work and do more Mom stuff then I could do working full-time in Houston. It is a gift, and I'm happy to take advantage of it as much as I can. It seems impossible that a whole year has already gone by, but I guess that's what happens when you're busy doing other things.

* To say the least!
** I have now really and truly screwed myself with that statement.

Driving test

We (Himself and I) are getting to experience British bureaucracy in all its glory as we attempt to get UK drivers licenses. UK regulations state that we can only drive on our US licenses for a year from the date we arrived, and since the UK license-getting process can take two years, we're trying to push ahead and get it taken care of.

I had no idea how complicated this was until we started. In October. The first step is to get a provisional license, which involved filling out a form and sending it off with my passport ("Please don't plan to leave the country for 4 weeks after you send in your application...") to Swansea. Thankfully the passports came back quite promptly, to be followed in short order by a provisional license. Which looks a lot like any other license, but means that I have to put a big red L on my car (learner, not loser people) (a requirement we have totally ignored, seeing as we have 40+ years of driving experience between the two of us) (and we have US licenses that are still useful), and I can't drive on the motorway (that's highway to all y'all).

Once you have your provisional license, you can apply for a date to take your theory test. Now, I got my driver's license in 1989, and my memory may be fading a bit, but I'm pretty sure I had to take the test first before I got my permit. In any event, the UK theory test has two parts: 50 multiple choice questions taken from a pool of almost 1000, and a hazard perception test, which requires that you watch 14 video clips from the vantage point of a driver, and click a mouse button to identify developing hazards. You have to get 43 out of 50 right on the multiple choice, and 44 out of 75 possible points on the hazard perception test to pass. Once you've passed, you have two years to take your practical (driving) test.

Two years. Which is because, rumor has it, UK driving tests are second to none for nit-picking, exacting and thoroughly entertaining requirements. For example, if you are stopped on the road, you must put the car in neutral, engage the handbrake and take your foot off of the brake pedal. Ummmm...hunh? The reasoning behind this apparently is that the brake lights might dazzle drivers behind you. My interpretation (in retrospect) while driving around has been "I wonder why they don't have their brakes on?" Most people spend exorbitant amounts of money on driving lessons to be sure they pass their practical. I am thoroughly relieved that The Company will cover the cost of 5 driving lessons, because 10 hours of behind the wheel training runs about £300.

Today was my theory test. I must admit that I had the advantage here: Himself took the theory test a few weeks ago, and I got the benefit of his experience in my preparations. You can go to any newsstand and actually buy a book containing all 963 questions and answers that might be on the theory test. I did. This weekend, I answered every single question. Somewhere around #700 and 10:30 on Sunday night, I decided it would all be much more fun if I came up with my own answers.

You are preparing to turn left on to a side street. An elderly person is already in the crossing. Do you:

A. Sound your horn loudly in case they didn't hear you
B. Inch forward to encourage them to go fast
C. Wait patiently
D. Rev your engine and wave them across

My addition to this was:
E. Mow them down in a crack-induced bloodbath and drive off into the sunset cackling maniacally

Himself had nothing good to say about the hazard perception test, and the directions for said test are not terribly clear. You're supposed to click the left or right mouse button when you see a potential hazard (pedestrians, car approaching from side street, lorry pulling out from a parking space), and click again as the hazard develops. However, they never say whether you need to click on the side of the hazard, or how many clicks you should make per hazard. If you click too many times, you get no points. So let's just say his score did not reflect his actual level of awareness and observation. Having heard about his experience, I was a bit more prepared.

My test was this morning, and I'm enjoying the aftermath because it is the first (and most likely the last) time I've ever done better on anything involving driving or perception of hazards (or anything else except signal transduction cascades maybe). 50 out of 50, 62 out of 75.

Thanks for going first dear!

How do you know you've settled in to a new city?

When you walk in to the lovely small bakery/coffee shop around the block from your daughter's school, and the lady behind the counter knows what your drink is.

The exchange rate

I can tell I've been here a while, because I've started forgetting to recalculate prices in my head.

This is particularly dangerous when making purchases of things needed, but readily obtainable cheaper in the States. For example, this past weekend we went to the bike shop to get Himself a set of good lights for commuting, and some new glove for me. While we were there, I was encouraged to check out the jackets. Since its been almost a decade since I've lived anywhere with a real winter, this seemed like a good idea.

I found a really nice one, spent a few minutes struggling with the idea of buying a new jacket, and bit the bullet. It's a great jacket - it converts into a vest and is lurid enough to alert even the most unobservant of drivers. In fact, if a driver can't see me while I'm wearing this thing, I would predict they are legally blind and, as such, shouldn't be on the roads anyway.

To try and put this color into perspective I have to share a childhood story about my brother. When we were young (maybe 6 and 8 or 7 and 9), there were a couple of summers when Boston experienced a major infestation of gypsy moths. We were alternately fascinated and horrified by the caterpillars that were absolutely everywhere. My brother and I discovered that if you stepped on one end of a caterpillar, bright fluorescent green guts would squirt out the other end. Truly disgusting, and guaranteed to be a hit with all the neighborhood kids. Of course, my brother went on to collect the caterpillars in old beer bottles filled with water and keep them in his room, but that's another story.

Anyhow, this jacket is that type of bright fluorescent color, but yellow instead of green. Beyond retina searing, and perfect for cycling in a city with lots and lots of traffic. I wore it on a ride on Sunday and was amazed at how much more room I got from passing vehicles, just by virtue of being an insult to anyone with color vision. Awesome.

However, the jacket was quite pricey. £68 in fact, and my thought process when buying it ran something like this: "$68 is a lot of money, but it's a jacket and a vest in one, and the color will be really good, and I don't have a good riding jacket, so what the heck." The only problem here being that it is actually a $112 jacket.

That sound you heard was my little tightfisted Puritan heart breaking. One hundred and twelve dollars for a yellow piece of plastic you can ball up in your fist? My sainted ancestors are spinning in their graves as we speak type. Shocking!

However, if it keeps me off the pavement, it's worth it. Thankfully I can wear sunglasses and not blind myself while I'm wearing it.

I have a new toy

I spent an inordinate amount of time last week trying to get a new phone, and I finally succeeded. So now I can take candid photos whilst out and about with all and sundry.

D practicing her numbers

Boo at the grocery store, stocking up on important supplies

The Natural History Museum

Boo assessing the duck situation

Devil prospecting for gold. Or digging to China. Who knows?

I guess she got tired of digging.

I'm looking forward to being able to engage in some kinnearing in the near future. London commuters be warned!