Time?

I was wondering how much time, or more precisely, how long do I have to be here, before I can start telling rude Britains off?

Doug and Kathy, you'll probably be the best to answer this. Or maybe not, because I can't actually see you doing that, and  really want to.

What is bothering me is how opinionated these people are about our country. Obviously, my Southern U.S. accent gives me away, but I am not walking around with my nose up or speaking of their politics or economy, so why must everyone I meet tell me how great and wonderful and historical our new great* and wonderful* and historical President is?
It wouldn't even be that bad if they left it there, but it continues to:

• What are your thoughts?

"Yes it is historical, and some such other oblique nonsense to avoid the discussion."

• Where are you from?

"Texas. Moved from Arkansas. In America, short, terse replies indicate the end of a discssion"

• Oh, Texas? Where Bush is from? That why you moved to Arkansas/over here? He is horrible...blah, blah, blah

"Can I please have a pint? And keep 'em coming, because if my mouth isn't full, I am going to start talking too much."

Get my drift? All I am trying to do is not be the sterotypical "Ugly American" and just blend into society and try my hardest to avoid the next three years, not get into verbal battles between countries. Besides, I am pretty sure most of the people talking are unarmed anyhow.

The worst one yet, which made me excuse myself for a pretend phone call and step outside, was this gem:

"You Americans have no history, most of you just don't know you've only gone on a long holiday."

"WHAT?!? Look here, old-timer, you didn't fight--or did you, you're pretty old--and neither did I, but you guys lost, and we're not coming back." Of course, I said this into my phone, to myself, outside. Then came back into the clubhouse and changed the subject. To sports, which of course led down the of how wussy NFL players are vs. rugby and so on.

So...when? Probably the week before we leave, I reckon.

**green is for sarcasm

Rian's Prayer

After reading Franklin's Vowels: The Letter O, Short Sounds

"God and Jesus, welcome for my family, welcome we have a great day. So much fun. Please let no fox or hog or dog in my yard. Only a dog if its Maya. Please we can have a log and an otter to come over in my yard. Not a fire, for its hot, can burn my Kels. Welcome for only getting one scratch on my nose when I fell down the stairs. I want a top for Christmas or tomorrow. I had one yesterday."
Long pause.
Me: "Are you done? Say Amen."
Rian, "No, I listening."
Big Sigh.
Longer pause.
Rian, "Ok. Amen. Daddy, leave all the lights on for Maya to come visit, good night."

Random thoughts

I am pretty sure that there was a bounty on my head today. I was almost run off the road 5 times, and stuck behind every large vehicle in Essex. And every senior citizen at the grocery store.

How come we have to remind ourselves most often the things we think we admire most? i.e. Prov 11:2 is my favorite verse. So how come I have trouble being humble sometimes and then have to kick my own butt for it? Or when I see someone exhibiting patience and realize its been so long since I have done that?

Also, why don't you pick up the phone and call someone, or send them an e-mail when you happen to wonder how someone is? You know, that person you haven't thought of in months, just pops into your head for a reason. Might be nice to reach out and find out why God sent you that IM.

Speaking of popping into heads, wonder whats going on in Kelsie's right now, as she sits on the floor laughing at the wall/floor/her left foot? How come I can't be that happy or that pleased by something so small? Conversely, what is Rian thinking when she pitches a fit? We don't give into her, so she knows that is not the way to get what she wants...she must just like bruising her legs as she flops onto hard floors. Huh. Maybe a simple pleasure for her.

Who knew seagulls liked onions so much? I sure didn't. However, the farms around here have many an onion field and its harvest season. (An aside - if you don't like onions, you wouldn't understand, but it smells amazing around here right now because of this) So anyhow, the coast is 30 drive-minutes away, not sure exactly how far as the gull-flies-miles, but its close. And they love it. They are all over the fields picking up scraps. Weird.

Ok, so I ventured out with the laptop and camera today as well. Actually am writing this from a picnic table behind a restaurant, underneath a viaduct that was built almost 300 years ago. Oh, you don't believe me huh? Well, it just so happens that I have proof. So pay up.

Ok, ya got me, those are 3 similar pictures

Haha! Now I got you! This is NOT a viaduct, but a wheelbarrow. Can't believe you fell for that.

Looks like someone got lazy and clocked out halfway through this job.