Hello readers! Thanks for coming back. It's time for a catch-up again about peculiarities that have been happening here in England. For instance, no one has seen or trusts a £50 note. Or, there are no trashcans (rubbish bins, in England) in the train stations, but you aren't allowed to litter. Travelling by myself, I notice a lot more than if I was occupied chatting with friends or rambling on a cell phone (mobile, in England).
I suppose that rambling on a mobile would appear a bit more acceptable than talking to oneself. It seems peculiar that a somewhat reserved country throws caution to the wind when it comes to speaking their mind while alone walking around town. I accidentally thought someone was talking to me the other day because of his close proximity and his use of a normal speaking voice--so I shouldn't have been embarrassed. But, his reaction wasn't was I was expecting. He just ignored me completely and kept walking, kept talking. I tried to apologise--I couldn't really think of what else to do--but I guess it was just better to pretend it never happened. I'm acclimating.
Another anomaly I've found on many occasions is that Brits will belt out a tune as if they are in their bedroom with a hairbrush microphone. But, in fact, they are in the middle of Debenhams, shopping with strangers. What is up with that? These soloists are usually trying to out-sing Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, or Cher so I usually have to turn away so I can laugh--not at their efforts, just at the situation. And since I'm out and about during the day, I get to shop with all of the moms and grandmas, so these aren't meddling teenagers trying to be silly; these are legitimate performers showcasing their skills.
These outspoken habits of the people here in Preston are so surprising to me since people rarely say 'hello' or even look at passersby on the pavement. But one lady certainly shocked me a few days ago in H&M. I wanted to add a couple of pieces to my budding wardrobe, and as I was shopping, I saw no attendants to answer my, "If I am a 10/12, then what would my European size be?" (All of their jean sizes are in 29/32, 30/34 form.) Finally, I noticed an employee, but she was in the fitting room. By the way, when you can find them, extremely friendly people work at the H&M in Preston. After I purchased a pair of jeans, I rode the escalator up to the ground floor to find my way out of the mall, and I was just about to step out of the store, when I heard an, "Excuse me." I turned to see a mom-aged lady who looked like she needed help. I clearly didn't work at H&M: track suit, five carrier bags, and tennis shoes (trainers, in England). "Where are the tights?" Luckily, I had seen the tights, so I showed her to the tights. "No, the thick ones. These are too thin," as she stretches the material to show that the leggings were not up to par. I thought, "Is that my fault? I want to be helpful, but please don't get mad at me for showing you the wrong tights." But we don't always say what we're thinking and what came out was, "Oh, yeah, those are a little thin. I saw some more in the back of the store by the accessories." The lady stares at me, glances back at the section, and says, "Where?" So, I walked her back to the other tights, but those still weren't good enough. Oh well. We left on good terms and she even said to 'have a good day.' I felt for her because I know how hard it is to find an attendant in that store, but I never expected her to get frustrated at my efforts.
I found myself experiencing a common oddity on a day-to-day basis: English does not help you everywhere in England. There are many cultures living in Preston because of the university that brings people from all over the world to one spot. Most of the small shops where we live are run by people from the Middle East and they can fluently converse from English to Arabic, Farsi, or Turkish. Where the oddity comes is when I ask a question in English and then they laugh or look at me like I'm crazy. I understand looking confused or apologetic, but they don't choose those expressions. Most of the time, the workers are very helpful, but if they respond in a belittling manner--as they have a couple of times--I usually just walk out and tell them to 'have a good day,' knowing they lost any more of my business for the future. It's not like I'm in France demanding that people speak English--I'm in England. At least when I'm in France, I try to speak the language.
Here's a conundrum: The Wheely Bin Two-Week Challenge. Our rubbish bins that we set out for collection are called 'wheely bins.' Each house gets one bin and it is collected every two weeks. So, whatever rubbish that does not fit inside the bin, must be stored elsewhere until an opening arises. Lee and I would be fine with this except that for our first two weeks, someone else had filled up our bin before we moved into our house and we've been playing catch-up ever since. We just now received some recycling bins which are also collected every two weeks and those should help the wheely bin plight.
Below are some photos for your viewing pleasure. Thanks for reading!
Welcome to our home! This is our living room...
And now we move on to the kitchen...
A very quick look at the bathroom...
And here's the office/media room which we call "The Headquarters"...
Now finally, the bedroom...
That was the grand tour! Thanks for stopping by.
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