If you're from the South, the southern states of the US, then you're probably familiar with this comedian. Bill Engvall is originally from the Lone Star State of Texas like me <insert piercing whistles, obnoxious yelling and maybe a hell, yeah! here>, so he leans towards some redneck humour. Folks in the south get it, whether you're raised in a double wide along a dirt road or in a McMansion on the golf course. It's our heritage.
I like Engvall because he focuses on the humour in everyday situations. A big part of his early monologues were spent telling anecdotes like you see in the clip below. Here's your sign... the you're an idiot sign for asking a question that makes no sense based upon the context of the conversation.
I just discovered the UK version of this, an actual sign/warning tag on my hair straightener that immediately reminded me of Bill Engvall. The middle temp setting heats up to 315° F and the brush rotates. To keep the user from possibly getting singed fingers, it has a guard on the outside. So you'd think the following was completely unnecessary.
I'm still trying to figure out what might possess a person to think that attempting to use this hairstyling tool on your eyelashes is a good idea. That's the only explanation I can conjure up as to why you'd have the straightener anywhere near your eye. Or that it might actually work. Obviously the Brits have their own version of redneck southerners lurking amongst the population.
After grousing about how the weather here in the UK was being particularly fickle, I'm having to eat my words this week. Just look at the extended forecast.
Highs in the mid 70s are expected this next weekend. It's practically a heatwave in May. The Brits will be out in full force, sporting shorts and tanks with lily white extremities, soaking up any bits of sun while enjoying the seasonal temps. The outside dining areas in restaurants and pubs will be filled to overflowing. The paths along the river will look like motorways at the peak of rush hour - bikes, dog walkers and strollers as far as the eye can see. The lone tree in our smallish front yard finally decided to bloom. The tree itself isn't anything to talk about, but these pink blooms are absolutely lovely. I've got no clue what variety it is, but I'm really enjoying the show of colour.
This morning I enjoyed a lovely stroll over to the local grocery store to pick up the fixin's for some chicken noodle soup. It's a simple meal I know the teenager enjoys and I'll get some mileage out of it with leftovers. Add a cheese baton (that's UK speak for a short loaf of french-style bread with some cheese melted on the exterior) and it's a meal.
Ollie is sitting around, impatiently waiting for his ride to doggy daycare, no doubt wondering why I won't take him for a walk in all this fabulous sunshine. In anticipation of the warm temps, I purchased one of those elevated mesh beds that I've seen in the pics we receive in our weekly email from the doggy daycare. It's sprung like a trampoline, so it's more comfortable than the hard ground. Plus it's supposed to help keep them cool in warmer temps because it's raised. You'd think that wouldn't be a problem here in England, dogs getting overheated. But keep in mind that the majority of homes on this side of the pond don't have air conditioning. You open your windows and either hope for a stiff breeze or purchase some oscillating floor fans and hope you don't have to suffer through a prolonged heat wave. Just to make the folks back home jealous, I'd consider a UK heat wave to be temps over 80° F. What won't make you jealous - windows without screens to keep out the flying critters. This is what Ollie is supposed to do... lounge about in comfort.
But this is how it's playing out thus far.
He has been on it a couple times... because we tossed a doggy treat up there and he hopped up to retrieve it. I'm convinced he'll use it as the temps climb a bit more. We'll see. Otherwise it will be donated to the doggy daycare so his other little doggy friends can enjoy it if it never catches on here at home.
Lord have mercy, y'all... I'm beginning to think we're gonna skip right over spring and go straight to summer. There were some initial signs in March and early April with temps warming into the low 60s, tulips in bloom and trees starting to bud. The teen's school grounds greened up and they switched over to spring uniform. Spring break and Easter were celebrated. Even the doggy daycare centre weekly updates were yammering about how much the dogs and humans were enjoying early spring.
That's the school pictured above, not too far from the swan and duck pond on the south side of campus. Below you'll see Ollie snuffling through the grass at daycare last week, hanging with his doggy friends.
It certainly wasn't shorts, sandals and pretty pedis time yet, but I know I'm not the only one who switched out the turtlenecks and quilted vests in my closest for pink and yellow 3/4 sleeve cardis. I obviously got all ahead of myself and turned off the heated towels bars in my bathroom as well as the daughter's. And then this arrived on Tuesday. Seriously. Snowflakes and hail mixed in with the rain. Overnight lows in the 30s and highs in the mid 50s. Maybe we'll SPRING into some milder temps as we turn the calendar page to May this weekend. With no AC in the house, I've gotta admit I'll take cooler than normal temps over a British heat wave any day of the week.
Chicken lettuce wraps - it's what's for supper at least every 10 days in our house. The first time we moved to England, the husband bought a couple of those restaurant copycat recipe books for moi. Hope springs eternal, right? Maybe I'd pull a June Cleaver after being in the workforce my entire adult life (going back to my first job at age 15, yo) and suddenly develop this compulsion to slave away in the kitchen preparing home cooked meals for the family. Uh yeah, didn't happen. Dare I say never gonna happen, whether I'm working or staying at home. I'm sure my granny, a woman that loved to cook for her family and friends, is undoubtedly rolling over in her grave as I type these words. I just don't enjoy the cooking experience. So when I do gird my loins and head into the kitchen to prepare a meal, I want something that isn't too fussy. We have what I call the staples here at our house, things the teenager will eat. Chicken enchiladas or tacos, chicken noodle soup, shrimp fettuccine alfredo and chicken lettuce wraps. Before the college coed left home, I cooked a greater variety of meals because I knew she and the husband would eat most anything. The younger daughter would make a PB&J sandwich if she wasn't interested. But now I'm cooking for just the husband and picky pants palate, although she has broadened her culinary horizons, a bit, over the years. One of our favourite meals from the copycat recipe book that everyone enjoys is PF Chang's chicken lettuce wraps. If you're within driving distance of an upscale shopping mall, then you know what I'm talking about.
I've never been able to find those kinda crispy white noodle thingies at any of our local grocery stores - in the UK or Texas - but we enjoy them just the same.
I chop up all of the ingredients, mix the sauce, pour about half of it over the mixture and let it sit in the fridge for a while to soak up the flavours. Then I toss it all into a hot skillet for about 10-12 minutes and voila - a mostly healthy meal as long as you don't pile on spoonfuls of the sauce. That stuff is tasty, but not particularly good for the waistline. Best thing about this meal is the fact that we always have enough for leftovers.
Exactly 21 years ago today, the husband skipped his law school classes so we could welcome our first daughter into the world at Brigham & Women's Hospital in Boston. Poor guy - 1994 was the last year the husband had his own birthday celebration since she was born the day he turned 27. I've been fortunate to celebrate birthdays with these two for over two decades. May God continue to bless them with health, happiness and many more to come!
Our resident shorty fervently wishes the hedge was thinner or he was taller so that he'd have a clear view into the neighbour's back garden. Then he could maintain a lookout for the local foxes that use it as a cut through to the field beyond. No doubt there would be a lot more barking and racing back and forth along the hedge fence line if he could eyeball the bushy tailed trespassers.
I normally take a boatload of pics, mainly because I'm the only person in the family documenting our travels via a blog. When my childhood friend and her mom were visiting while my mother was also here in the UK, I turned over photography to the professional writer in our group. She did a tremendous job of snapping cool pics everywhere we visited. I didn't realize how few pics I took of our UK adventures until I started looking for photos to add to this post. On our first full day of touring, we visited Windsor Castle. Pics of the interior were not allowed. And I didn't think to take a pic when we sat down to eat at the Duchess of Cambridge pub in Windsor. Or in the fudge shop - fond memories there. Here is a video and pic of the changing of the guardsin a different place than I've ever witnessed it before. I believe that was my 6th tour of Windsor Castle.
On our second day, I drove us down to the coast at Brighton. We toured the Royal Pavilion, visited the fun and funky Choccywoccydoodah shop (had it's own TV series for a while), had lunch at a Jamie Oliver Italian restaurant and then posed for some cheesy pics while viewing the pebble beach with it's carousel and boardwalk in the background.
On Wednesday, we did the £13 taxi tour from Waterloo Station to Harrod's. We drove across the Westminster Bridge, past Parliament, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey and Buckingham Palace. We did some window shopping at Harrod's - Prada purses, anyone - then we haunted the food halls admiring all of the tasty treats. We hopped back into one of the iconic black London taxis for lunch at Brown's. Finally, we wrapped up the afternoon by attending the "Wicked" matinee. The next morning it was onward to the continent for a long weekend in my friend's adopted country of Holland.
