I am disappointed that their majesties didn't visit the van to welcome you both. I am also very disappointed that they would not have smelt grilled skippers. A thing of beauty xx
Another hilarious post, Rebecca and HMs don’t know what they are missing. Whereas the painting of rude symbols next to potholes seems to work, it isn’t something I shall be trying but at least those residents got them filled! In Herefordshire I am saddened to report that bent wheels and shaken dentures are the order of the day also. Anybody following me driving must think I’m three sheets to the wind as I slither around trying to avoid the bone shakers. Happy New Year to you and Jim. I’m sure it will be a rip roaring one.
I loved the sign on the cratered road in Worthington! Gave me my first LOL! of the day. I shall have to remember the stylized graffiti of the male nether parts of the anatomy when next our town slacks off filling in potholes in a timely manner. In some areas I’ve seen evidence of innovative people filling in the deeper holes with soil and flowers. Yep, Nature takes back what man does not pave asunder.
Uckfield rules! To hell with ineffective written complaints. Your news clippings made me laugh so hard I spilled my coffee this morning. Pot noodles! Birthday parties! Penises! Beautiful! Brits sure do know how to make a point. I love this form of shame-them-into-it activism, Rebecca. And as far as left-over wine goes, that is sort of like left-over Jammy Dodgers. Sorry - no such thing. Thanks for the photo of your sleet-y back garden and, really, everyone agrees that no matter what color you write in, we look forward to reading it.
Wonderful clip of your snowy garden, Rebecca, a relaxing experience I thought...unlike the misery of getting the wrong colour ink cartridge!
It appears that so far I am on my own with leftover bubbly...we put a spoon in the bottle and it keeps fizzy till the next day (now wondering if this is a family myth...seems to work though!)
So potholes. I have had several bad experiences with them. Once while in Boston, the car I was in hit a mother of a pothole and got 2 blown out tires from that pothole (it was filled with water and looked just like a puddle on the road.) We had to sit in the closest tire shop and wait for them to be mounted.
The other pothole story took place on a dark night when we were driving from Connecticut to Rhode Island to see a monster truck show. (Don’t judge) - we hit a pothole and got a ruined tire out of it. So, as we were in a van, filled with 3 couples, we had to remove all the empty beer bottles that we placed in the back to return them (but hadn’t gotten around to it). And who shows up but a state police man. So we had to explain that no we were not drinking, but just hadn’t returned the empties yet. And he just raised his eyebrows and went on his way. However, the spare tire was not in the back of the car. Unfortunately it was under the car, so we had to get down on the ground and undo the bolt to get it off. Did I mention it was winter, and it was wet and cold and dark with no streetlights?
So, eventually we got the spare tire on, and the wet dirty tire went into the van where we were sitting (yes I got to babysit the wet nasty stinky tire) and we moved back onto the road and continued in our quest. But, by the time we got there it was too late to see the show, so we had ice cream and turn back (we also could not find anywhere to get the tire fixed) now when you have a “doughnut” tire on, you cannot drive at normal speeds and need to drive at lower speeds. Coming back, we hit another pothole and that tire went flat too. The closest place to us was an auction house that for some reason was still open. They gave us hot chocolate and we begged to borrow one of their tires from some cars that were going to be auctioned off. They actually did, and we were able to get home in time for one of us to catch a flight overseas. The next day we bought a new tire and returned the borrowed tire to the auction house and managed to get back home without getting another flat. Do not trust any puddle of water!
The snow, camping, kippers, ink, Austen, Jessica Watson, creative puddle shaming, leftover champagne .... I love the scope of your British ... ‘natterings’. (I can’t for the life of me think of the right word here).
Anyway, loved the beautiful snow; am always intrigued by commoners camping on royal grounds and them making money out of you (presumably); I still haven’t tried kippers despite reading about them in so many British books over the years (Enid Blyton, Elsie J Oxenham etc); Jessica Watson is an extraordinary young lady and always speaks from the heart; the ongoing puddle saga continues to delight those who don’t have to experience them...
Another slice of British life and a joy to read. Thanks so much.
Perhaps if you had quietly yelled over a wall or gate that separated you from the Royals, they would have thought it good fun to see what the yelling was about. I love reading what you're reading, too, and I loved the snow video. I also love what you call, what we call, a lamp post - "station lamp" . Sounds much more inviting with the promise of coziness inside. Loved this post. ☕️📚❄️
Well, I think that Their Majesties missed out on the chance to have such a knees-up with you and Jim. And to learn about penis-decorated potholes throughout the kingdom, and I'm sure the Queen would have loved talking all things Austen. A Right Royal shame, but never mind!
Wonderful letter, as always.
PS: I do admire your snow as I hang up my beachtowel to dry after after another warm summer's day of swimming. (Sorry - but snow IS beautiful, as long as one is warm.)
I try not to resort to name calling, but on occasion it seems warranted: their Majesties are morons! Thank goodness you can return to Austen for solace. I laughed out loud at the ingenuity of your villagers and wondered, for just a moment, if painting a masterful version of The Family Jewels around a pothole near my home would draw attention *away* from the leftover champagne in my refrigerator? Who am I kidding? This is America!
p.s. I feel obligated to note that I am keeping the old bubbly for cooking! (!!) (!!! <-- long may they run!)
I am disappointed that their majesties didn't visit the van to welcome you both. I am also very disappointed that they would not have smelt grilled skippers. A thing of beauty xx
Well, this messes up my new year's resolution to not correspond with strange women 🫢
Another hilarious post, Rebecca and HMs don’t know what they are missing. Whereas the painting of rude symbols next to potholes seems to work, it isn’t something I shall be trying but at least those residents got them filled! In Herefordshire I am saddened to report that bent wheels and shaken dentures are the order of the day also. Anybody following me driving must think I’m three sheets to the wind as I slither around trying to avoid the bone shakers. Happy New Year to you and Jim. I’m sure it will be a rip roaring one.
I loved the sign on the cratered road in Worthington! Gave me my first LOL! of the day. I shall have to remember the stylized graffiti of the male nether parts of the anatomy when next our town slacks off filling in potholes in a timely manner. In some areas I’ve seen evidence of innovative people filling in the deeper holes with soil and flowers. Yep, Nature takes back what man does not pave asunder.
Uckfield rules! To hell with ineffective written complaints. Your news clippings made me laugh so hard I spilled my coffee this morning. Pot noodles! Birthday parties! Penises! Beautiful! Brits sure do know how to make a point. I love this form of shame-them-into-it activism, Rebecca. And as far as left-over wine goes, that is sort of like left-over Jammy Dodgers. Sorry - no such thing. Thanks for the photo of your sleet-y back garden and, really, everyone agrees that no matter what color you write in, we look forward to reading it.
Wonderful clip of your snowy garden, Rebecca, a relaxing experience I thought...unlike the misery of getting the wrong colour ink cartridge!
It appears that so far I am on my own with leftover bubbly...we put a spoon in the bottle and it keeps fizzy till the next day (now wondering if this is a family myth...seems to work though!)
So potholes. I have had several bad experiences with them. Once while in Boston, the car I was in hit a mother of a pothole and got 2 blown out tires from that pothole (it was filled with water and looked just like a puddle on the road.) We had to sit in the closest tire shop and wait for them to be mounted.
The other pothole story took place on a dark night when we were driving from Connecticut to Rhode Island to see a monster truck show. (Don’t judge) - we hit a pothole and got a ruined tire out of it. So, as we were in a van, filled with 3 couples, we had to remove all the empty beer bottles that we placed in the back to return them (but hadn’t gotten around to it). And who shows up but a state police man. So we had to explain that no we were not drinking, but just hadn’t returned the empties yet. And he just raised his eyebrows and went on his way. However, the spare tire was not in the back of the car. Unfortunately it was under the car, so we had to get down on the ground and undo the bolt to get it off. Did I mention it was winter, and it was wet and cold and dark with no streetlights?
So, eventually we got the spare tire on, and the wet dirty tire went into the van where we were sitting (yes I got to babysit the wet nasty stinky tire) and we moved back onto the road and continued in our quest. But, by the time we got there it was too late to see the show, so we had ice cream and turn back (we also could not find anywhere to get the tire fixed) now when you have a “doughnut” tire on, you cannot drive at normal speeds and need to drive at lower speeds. Coming back, we hit another pothole and that tire went flat too. The closest place to us was an auction house that for some reason was still open. They gave us hot chocolate and we begged to borrow one of their tires from some cars that were going to be auctioned off. They actually did, and we were able to get home in time for one of us to catch a flight overseas. The next day we bought a new tire and returned the borrowed tire to the auction house and managed to get back home without getting another flat. Do not trust any puddle of water!
The snow, camping, kippers, ink, Austen, Jessica Watson, creative puddle shaming, leftover champagne .... I love the scope of your British ... ‘natterings’. (I can’t for the life of me think of the right word here).
Anyway, loved the beautiful snow; am always intrigued by commoners camping on royal grounds and them making money out of you (presumably); I still haven’t tried kippers despite reading about them in so many British books over the years (Enid Blyton, Elsie J Oxenham etc); Jessica Watson is an extraordinary young lady and always speaks from the heart; the ongoing puddle saga continues to delight those who don’t have to experience them...
Another slice of British life and a joy to read. Thanks so much.
Thank you for the smiles, Rebecca!! :) Write on.
True Spirit— amazing story. I wasn’t sure I would have allowed my daughter to embark on such an adventure.
All hail to hail.
Say hello to the King. Nice crib. 😉
Perhaps if you had quietly yelled over a wall or gate that separated you from the Royals, they would have thought it good fun to see what the yelling was about. I love reading what you're reading, too, and I loved the snow video. I also love what you call, what we call, a lamp post - "station lamp" . Sounds much more inviting with the promise of coziness inside. Loved this post. ☕️📚❄️
Well, I think that Their Majesties missed out on the chance to have such a knees-up with you and Jim. And to learn about penis-decorated potholes throughout the kingdom, and I'm sure the Queen would have loved talking all things Austen. A Right Royal shame, but never mind!
Wonderful letter, as always.
PS: I do admire your snow as I hang up my beachtowel to dry after after another warm summer's day of swimming. (Sorry - but snow IS beautiful, as long as one is warm.)
I try not to resort to name calling, but on occasion it seems warranted: their Majesties are morons! Thank goodness you can return to Austen for solace. I laughed out loud at the ingenuity of your villagers and wondered, for just a moment, if painting a masterful version of The Family Jewels around a pothole near my home would draw attention *away* from the leftover champagne in my refrigerator? Who am I kidding? This is America!
p.s. I feel obligated to note that I am keeping the old bubbly for cooking! (!!) (!!! <-- long may they run!)
Nice to see the snow falling. Glad it's not snowing in Florida. Although our low temp is supposed to be 46F next Wednesday. Brrr......
I like your words: inkcident, inkcursion, and inksipidly. Nice work!
I laughed out loud at your pothole anatomy. That's one way to get your potholes filled. :)