THE BRITISH INVASION!

For every person who will not 'take my word for it' regarding anything regarding the 'rules of civil procedure', there is one who will ask for my advice!  I can understand why 'the accent' can sometimes throw people into an area of mistrust, but it throws me when I am asked 'how', by people who should really know!

"Where's that accent from?" asked the lady at Sam's.  I responded in my usual fashion, "Northwest London".  It is so much easier than mentioning one of the 'Home Counties', despite the fact that Hertfordshire has been the birthplace or home of many a famous person.  Indeed, Hertfordshire is home to the famous Hatfield House, where Princess Elizabeth Tudor was imprisoned and where,  in 1558, she received the news that she was now Queen.  However not only do I digress, the two words 'Elizabeth' and 'Queen' would not be disassociated with the current reigning monarch.  It is only natural that my history would not be known by my current peers.  If I was spoken to, by a citizen, about 'President Harrison', I would be less likely to say, 'which one?' but more likely say, 'Who?"  Digressing again, I shall return to the story.  (Perhaps I should rename my blog 'An Englishwoman who is obsessed with history')  "Where's the accent from?", "Northwest London".  A smile formed and I was greeted with, "Ah London.  Well welcome.  Welcome to the United States of America, and to Texas!  How are you liking it so far"  I was rather surprised, but delighted, at the joy this lady had in welcoming me to her country, of which she seemed very proud, but I felt the need to apprise her of the facts.  "I have been here for nearly fifteen years, and I like it a lot"  My own smile indicated that I was not being sarcastic (now there's a surprise) or surly, and she laughed in the same enthusiastic manner as she had made her welcoming speech.  I told her that I had weathered the Texas heat, and survived fourteen summers.  She had been born and bred in Austin, and had not traveled much, and by all accounts did not want to, other than to live vicariously through others.  If advice was needed about anything 'Austin', I am sure there would be no better person to ask!

Once again, our turbulent weather patterns hailed, quite literally, throughout the week.  Hail sizes varied but the storms remained dangerous.  Thankfully, the tempests avoided my swimming time, and I was able to take advantage of the pool every day.  Samantha asked Grant if he wanted to join us.  "I have nothing to swim in", he said.  "We have a pool.  You can swim in that", said I.  (Sarcasm returns!)  

"What does that mean?" said Grant, again, as he listened to Samantha and me talking.  "Y'all have so many different words.  Every day you say something I don't understand".  We explained that whilst it can be a burden, it can also be an advantage.  "Y'all speak in code!" he concluded, and went to Dana with his findings.  Dana concurred that even after fifteen years, he sometimes just smiles as he is oblivious to what I am saying.  "And y'all isn't code?" said I!

The week continued to slide by.  "I need to speak to someone who knows how to do this properly", and "I am sorry, but I can't understand you", was the order of the week.  I quite happily hand them over to my husband, without a deviation in my jolly voice, as the latter is sometimes detected as a slur.  I have evidence for my detection over the years, and choose not to take offence.  After all, what good will it do!  Along with the naysayers were those who were wanting to know 'how', and were quite happy for me to give advice.  A couple of courthouse clerks called, and were happy to listen to me talk, whether they understood me or not!  Happy days!

Dana had arranged for an electrician to come to look at my oven connection on Wednesday, and I told him that it was my 'late' day, due to my nail appointment.  However, when I returned to the office, the electrician had not made contact,  No pun intended!  When he did call, I asked Dana to go home to see him.  "He wont understand me", was my excuse.  I will say that electricians in this part of the world, and workmen in general, (with a few exceptions,) do not, upon inspection of apparatus, stand and inhale through gritted teeth, indicating a drastic problem.  I did not want this particular expert to be 'the exception', and give him cause to use the accent, and the fact that I was a woman, to give an excuse to bamboozle me with nonsense.  My fear was not that I would be bamboozled, but that I would lose patience and tell him to go, without completing the task.  I needed my oven connection fixed.  Apparently, the man was very helpful, found the problem immediately, and replaced the faulty connection within a very short period of time.  Dana returned to the office and all was well!

I baked on Wednesday evening, 'just because'.  "Lemon drizzle cake anyone?" was the question.  "What's that?" was the response. It is the one cake that does not need a 'translation', and comes out as perfectly as it did when I lived in England.  When baking a sponge in American, I have started to 'ask Martha'.  Ms Stewart is my 'American Delia' or 'American Nigella'.  When baking in 'traditional English', I refer to my native experts.  Advice is always welcome, and the three ladies meet regularly in my kitchen!

Swimming on Wednesday was a delight.  After work, I went to swim some laps.  A family of four came down and the father told his daughters not to swim in the 'deep end' as I was swimming.  They were slightly disappointed, but listened to their dad.  When I finished, I thanked the father and the girls.  They seemed quite delighted that I had thanked them and started to chat.  It appears that they were my newish neighbours from two doors along.  As I walked up the stairs to leave, I heard the older child say, in her best English accent, "Wort ay nice laydee".  It was amusing.

After I swam on Thursday, the clouds rolled in.  The temperature dropped from the low 90's to the low 70's, and the time turned from early afternoon to almost midnight!  The sun disappeared, and the absence of the moon, as it was only around three, made it very dark outside.  The rain started to fall vertically, and before long it flew across the parking lot, horizontally.  The wind forced it almost upwards, and the hail started to pound the floor, and cars, as well as swirl in circles, like a snowstorm.  Thunder followed lightening, and the noise was quite deafening.  It lasted for about an hour, and then the sun reappeared, light shone through the windows, and pretty soon the temperature rose.  Apart from a couple of small puddles, where the car park dips, there was no sign of a storm at all!

I walked downstairs to take the post for the waiting mailman.  A workman was attempting to fix the door downstairs and opened the adjacent door for me.  "He is waiting for you", said the workman.  I smiled, and thanked him for opening the door.  My mailman told me that he was going to be on vacation for two weeks.  I told him that I would have to get someone to walk the extra mile and drop the post into the box at the bottom of the driveway.  I told him to have a 'nice time', and he laughed, as he is taking the time off to move house.  All this was observed by the door-fixer.  I walked back inside and the postman started up his truck and went down the drive to the box.  The door was opened for me again.  "He was waiting for you!", said the workman.  "Oh he is a gentleman", said I.  "And thank you for opening the door", I continued. The doorman looked at me.  "You have some stock", he said.  Perhaps you can answer the phone for me, I thought!  

The end of the working week rolled around and I got into the office early.  I was looking forward to my weekend.  I answered the phone as Grant came to my desk to hand me a paper.  After a couple of minutes of me explaining rules, citing paragraphs, and generally giving advice on what should go on the writ, Grant looked perplexed.  I mouthed to him, "It's the clerk".  Grant looked even more perplexed.  "Isn't it their job to know how to do that?"  I smiled.  What made me smile even more was that the person from whom advice was being sought, had an accent!  The clerk understood every word, and adhered to my instructions.  

"You know, you didn't really 'kick us out' in 1776", I told Grant.  "We left and told you to 'get on with it'.  We knew you would be begging us back with open arms at sometime".  He laughed heartily. "So much for the Beatles, and the British Invasion!"  He laughed again.  I was on a roll!  Dana just shook his head, and smiled.  Life with the Englishwoman is never dull!

So we came to the weekend, and where the post started.  In Sam's on Saturday was when the lady asked, "Where's that accent from?" It was a very hot day, with no breeze and no storms for the next few days.  Neighbours came and went and I helped several people as they had 'forgotten' the entrance code.  After all, it is my pool!

With the probability of our first triple digit day, I am going to take advantage of Sunday afternoon, and chill (contradiction in terms) for a while, read my American novel, and sip my American club soda.  Life in the fast lane can return tomorrow!  With no particular plans for next week, I shall wait and see what it brings.  No doubt it will all end up in .............. another story!