Menu Plan Monday
I had to half-ass our meal plan at around midnight last night because I had the Tesco order coming today and there was NOTHING on it!
So, here’s our sad plan.
Monday – Breakfast for Lunch
Tuesday – Steamed salmon with veggies and rice
Wednesday – Tuna steaks with salad
Thursday – something with the frozen leftover turkey, probably pot pie or Tetrazinni
Friday – Swedish Meatballs
Saturday – Cranberry burgers
Sunday – Roast Chicken
Total cost of groceries for the week? £30. In the freezer (or over at Tim’s parents in their extra freezer) we have the salmon, tuna, turkey, meatballs, and a whole chicken.
Total so far for the month? £50. Though I have a feeling after we eat the freezer down it might get a little more expensive.
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, the RSS feed(s), or through an e-mail subscription, please notify me.
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Quidco a No-Go
Over the Summer, a friend was talking to me about Quidco, a website that offers you cash back based on your purchases you make through their site. I was a member of a similar site when I lived in the US (I currently can’t remember the site!) and had earned back around $20 on various online purchases, so I signed up for it, but then forgot about it.
In October, Quidco sent out an email with an offer to join Weight Watchers UK. The offer was that if you signed up for their 3-month package at £32, you would gain £30 in cashback, making your three month subscription £2. I decided to give it a try, since I felt there was little to lose since in the end I would have only spent £2.
[screenshot of the email offering £30 cashback]
I am now out £32.
Quidco failed to acknowledge the transaction so in mid-November, I submitted a claim on their website. Oddly enough, the site would only let me put in a claim for £15 instead of the £30 advertised, but I figured at least I’d get £15 back and wasn’t going to be too upset over losing £15. A few weeks later, an email from Quidco arrived that simply said “We have an update for you from the Quidcare team.” and directed me to log into my account. I logged in and the standard “this is what will happen” message appeared. I didn’t receive any more email updates from Quidco.
In all the excitement of planning my emergency trip back to the US, I forgot about it until today, when I realized that I would need to cancel my original WW subscription soon if I didn’t want to be charged another £30. I checked into Quidco to see if the reward money was there because if it was I would have used the £30 cash back to pay for an additional three months of WW. My reward wasn’t showing. Instead, it showed that my claim had been denied based on my not providing information they asked for “in an email”.
Er?
Here is a screenshot of my email box filtered down to messages from Quidco:
[apologies for the small print, I had to re-size this for WordPress]
No where in there, beyond the first update email do I see anything related to this claim requesting additional information, yet here’s what Quidco has on their website under my claim:
[screenshot of the claims screen on Quidco]
I found where it was possible to re-submit a claim, so I’m filling it out online:
[screenshot from Quidco, Click for larger]
As you can see, it still is allowing me only to ask them for £15, when the original offer read £30, but again, I’m kind of past that point and really now only want at least the £15 they are offering. I go to the next screen, where it asks for my username on WW and my confirmation number when I joined. I provided those details, and moved on to the next screen.
[screenshot from Quidco, Click for larger]
Getting a bit ridiculous, isn’t it? I clicked on “contact us”, which brings me to a page where I need to click on if I am a member of the site, an advertiser, or part of the media. I select member and go through another set of pull down options to get to the following:
[screenshot from Quidco, Click for larger]
Okay, I will click on that “denied cashback claim”, but oh look where it sends me right back to:
[screenshot from Quidco, Click for larger]
Looks familiar, doesn’t it?
I have now been through this circus about 5 times now, hoping somehow that something will have changed and it will magically let me re-submit the declined claim. Seeing how there appears to be no other way to contact this company, I went directly to their facebook page:
[screenshot from facebook]
The link they gave me? Goes to the same page as the previous image, which is the same page as the first image, so my options are to start the cycle on their site again, or write off ever seeing my £15, let alone the original £30 I was promised.
I’ve since gone to the WW site and cancelled my membership there so I wouldn’t be charged in January. It was a very simple form to fill out and asked for the reason. So I told them this problem as well, though I doubt WW can really do anything about it.
How The TSA Stole Christmas
I flew back to the UK from the US on Christmas Eve so I would arrive back in the UK to spend Christmas Day with my husband. My aunt gave me two small containers of Christmas cookies before I left – one was a small round tin filled with about a dozen and a half peanut butter cookies, and the other with some of my favourite cookie of all time, pinwheels. Since she packed the containers tight I packed them into my checked bag along with loads of Christmas presents for other people, including 6 packets of a McCormick Buffalo wing mix my FIL likes and some peppermint Hershey Kisses, so my bag smelled pretty interesting.
I checked my bags in Philadelphia and headed to security. Security in Philly was a LOT tighter than it was in London*. In Philly I was required to remove my laptop from it’s protective case, remove my kindle from it’s case, and remove my shoes. Oh, and could I step to the side even though the metal detector didn’t ping for a personal pat down?
Yeah. Don’t wear a dress when travelling through Philly or they will have to give you a pat down. Fortunately, there wasn’t many people present and the woman doing my pat down was very apologetic and explained to me that it was required because a dress/skirt doesn’t show the contours of your body so they have to pat you down. Nice. Here I thought I was making it easier by not wearing trousers that might have bits of metal all over them. The agent patting me down did not touch me above the waist, did not pat down my rear, and did not pat higher than mid-thigh. I thought the whole idea of the pat down was to make sure I wasn’t hiding anything? Not that I’m complaining. It just all seemed pointless, especially considering my dress was fairly form fitting to begin with and the fabric was clinging to my tights. I wonder what happens to people who go through wearing baggy clothing. Soon we will have to fly wearing form-fitted bodysuits.
Funny enough, I went through security with my 1-QT bag of liquids and yet in the bottom of my carry-on I later discovered two items that had fallen out – a small container of hand sanitizer and a breath spray, neither of which were detected by their machines. I also had a packet of mustard my mom stuck in the bag with the lunch she packed for me and that didn’t get flagged, either.
First trauma over, I headed on my merry way to the gate, boarded my flight, and was soon landing in London (LHR). The UKBA was on the ball and I didn’t even have to answer any questions on my return to the UK, she just told me “welcome back” and stamped my passport on the page opposite my spousal visa (unlike when I landed in the US!**).
I noticed the “cleared by TSA” sticker on the outside of my suitcase and found the “Notice of Baggage Inspection” buried inside as soon as I got home. I didn’t really think anything of it and assumed the combination of the peppermint Hershey Kisses and the Buffalo wing spice caught the attention of the baggage inspector. But it wasn’t until this morning that I discovered something was wrong with my luggage.
As I mentioned above, my aunt sent me home with two small containers of homemade cookies. The first container was a square vintage Tupperware container that contained my beloved Pinwheels. No problems there. The second container was a small tin she was re-using that contained some peanut butter cookies. When I opened the tin this morning, I discovered HALF MY PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES WERE GONE, and the remaining cookies were broken and crumbled due to being shaken around the half empty tin.
I am NOTimpressed. Thank you, TSA agent for stealing my little bit of a homemade Christmas. I hope you were allergic to nuts.
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*Security in London consisted of taking my laptop out of the bag but not the case, having my kindle out (but in it’s case), and I was able to keep my shoes and cardigan on.
**Oh, this is great, too. When I got up to the desk at US Immigration I was GRILLED by the agent. Excuse me, but isn’t it the right of an American Citizen to be able to freely leave and return to the US? No? I got asked when I was last in the US (I was vague and said “about two years ago”, why I moved to the UK, why I was returning to the US, who I was staying with in the US, and the best one? When was I leaving the US. Again, I thought American Citizens are allowed to stay in the US for as long as they’d like. Apparently not. I suppose I should consider myself lucky I didn’t get a time limit visa stamped in my passport!
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, the RSS feed(s), or through an e-mail subscription, please notify me.
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Where’s the Penn State Merch?
My mom lives in Penn State country. University Park is about an hour and a half away, and then there’s also at least a half dozen satellite campuses within an hour’s drive, some as close as 20 minutes away. I was always well-supplied with Penn State merchandise growing up, once I expressed an interest in Penn State to my family. I think I declared I was going to Penn State right around the time my cousin Tim was attending, and the same time my German teacher’s son was attending, but that’s another story.
I grew up with my aunt getting me small Penn State items at her local shops – pencils, notepads, napkins, etc. And when I finally was accepted to Penn State my senior year of high school, she went all out and bought me a stadium blanket, paper plates, napkins, plastic cups, everything imaginable with the Penn State logo on it.
Living in the UK you can imagine I don’t see a whole lot of PSU merchandise unless it’s something I brought with me or I get sent, so while I was back in PA I thought I would stock myself up on some Penn State merch. The regular football season has ended, but we still have a bowl game to play, so I was expecting to see merchandise all over the place.
I have been in 2 of the local grocery stores as well as Wal-Mart, Target, and K-mart and have barely seen a whisper of PSU merch.
What’s going on? Have all the shops decided to quit selling Penn State merchandise based on the actions of one man? It’s ridiculous. I am and will always be proud to be a Penn Stater.
If I have to order my merchandise directly from State College, I will.
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, the RSS feed(s), or through an e-mail subscription, please notify me.
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You’re In America Now, Speak American
I worried before my trip to the US that I was going to sound “too British” and people would think I was putting on airs….have you ever seen that episode of Friends where Monica and Phoebe have a friend who moved to London and then comes back and talks with a (fake) British accent? Yeah, I was afraid I might wind up doing that subconsciously. Don’t know what I’m talking about?
Or where they are making fun of her (beginning of this clip):
..and I was THAT American. I can’t help it. I’ve spent two years in the UK and using British words for things so that people would know what I was talking about. My cousins took great delight in poking fun at me for saying things like “ring up” and “put it in the rubbish”. Words like “mobile”, “garage” (pronounced differently in the UK), “loo” or “toilet” (instead of “bathroom”) and “trousers” (instead of “pants”) have crept into my vocabulary without me even noticing, but it makes me stick out when I’m talking to an (American) family member or friend.
But at least I still sound American. While I was at the Lincoln Christmas Market, a man at one of the stands asked me if I was Scottish and the man running the stand with him responded that no, he thought I was Irish.
I wonder if the more time I spend outside of the US, the less American I will sound?
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, the RSS feed(s), or through an e-mail subscription, please notify me.
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Happy Holidays!
Friends and Family,
We hope this post finds you all well and enjoying the holiday season with your families. Our holiday season was disrupted this year by a family tragedy. Rebecca’s Aunt (in America) had a stroke two weeks before Christmas and passed away a few days later. Rebecca flew out to the US to be with her family.
This year, in lieu of sending cards, we have decided to make a donation to the Stroke Association in memory of Barbara A. Ohlinger, to aid others who suffer from a stroke.
We wish you all a happy holidays!
Love,
Tim & Rebecca Lockley
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, the RSS feed(s), or through an e-mail subscription, please notify me.
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Homeward Bound
My aunt passed away during the night. This morning, Tim and I had a short discussion about if I should go to Pennsylvania or not, and my response was “it’s Aunt Barb”, and Tim said “there’s your answer”, so flights have been booked.
I’m going solo because Tim just can’t ask for the time off this week as one of the other MOMs is currently on holiday and well, one ticket was enough!
I’m heading out on Friday and will arrive in Philly around 3PM and take the train to Lancaster so my mom doesn’t have to worry about picking me up at the airport. I’ll leave on Christmas Eve. Because it’s an overnight flight, I will arrive back in the UK on Christmas Morning. It was the only way to book things and still be able to afford anything reasonable that didn’t involve a lot of crazy transfers and layovers (seriously, one flight I looked at was Birmingham to Dublin, an 11-hour layover in Dublin, then flying to Miami, five hours in Miami, and then onto BWI). To make things easier on me, I’m not checking any bags. I’ve got toiletry type items still at Mom’s and if I need anything, she has a CVS and a Rite Aid around the corner from her house (within walking distance, even). I’m just going to toss a few changes of clothing into a carry-on. Mom has a washing machine, so I can always wash things.
This isn’t the way I had hoped to return to the US for a visit, but I am glad that I am able to. This truly IS the hardest part about being an ex-pat.
The Worst Part About Being an Ex-Pat
The worst part about being an ex-pat is when tragedy strikes at home.
One of my aunts had a stroke on Sunday, and without revealing private details, I can say that it doesn’t look good.
You always know something could happen, but you never really expect it when it does, do you?
Two weeks before Christmas, if I wanted to get back to PA I don’t even think it would be possible.
🙁
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, the RSS feed(s), or through an e-mail subscription, please notify me.
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LJ Idol Week 6 Re-Post: Peanut Butter Jelly Time
LJ Idol’s week 6 prompt was “food memory”. My entry didn’t score very high, but scored high enough to keep me in the competition.
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I stopped eating peanut butter when I was six. I went from absolutely loving peanut butter and eating peanut butter and jelly (UK: jam) sandwiches nearly every day to refusing to have them at all. No matter if my mom tempted me with my favourite flavour of jelly (strawberry preserve so it had the bits in it), cut the bread into a cute shape, put the peanut butter on a stick of celery for ants on a log…. nothing. I refused to eat it.
This can create a problem when you’re a kid, especially growing up in the US, where PB&J is the quintessential lunch food for a child. Everyone eats it (unless you’re allergic to peanuts), and most parents don’t mind having their child’s friends over because they know all they need to give them for lunch is a good old peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Grape jelly, of course, was the usual, with strawberry being a treat. Some people put bananas on their sandwiches, or a thick, gooey, sugary substance called marshmallow fluff…but not me. I absolutely HATED peanut butter.
When I was little, I had a best friend. She was the same age as me and our parents met through their friends who did not have any children of their own. Their friends introduced our parents because they knew each couple had a little girl around the same age. I was exactly 2 months older than the other girl, almost to the day. She and I did everything together. We took swimming lessons together, our parents took the other one with them when they went to McDonald’s, and we even went away with each other’s families for overnight trips. At the young age of 3 or 4, we were inseparable.
Every day I played over at my friend’s house, her mom would serve us each half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
In the early 80s, wholesale bulk shops like SAM’s club and Costco were becoming famous for opening their doors to the public after previously being restaurant-only shops. People flocked to the wholesale clubs and had no idea what to do because the items were so large. My dad one time purchased a box of 1,000 paper-wrapped straws that my mom and I still find remnants of in the back of the cutlery drawer at her house. People purchased food in bulk – huge bottles of vegetable oil, herbs and spices by the pound, tea bags in boxes bigger than your head…and giant aluminium tins of Skippy peanut butter.
The massive tin was about as wide as a dinner plate, and probably a foot or more in height. I couldn’t begin to tell you how much peanut butter was in the tin, but I am sure it would have been put to good use in a school cafeteria, and not in someone’s house.
My mom was more sensible and continued to buy her peanut butter (Peter Pan brand) in regular sized jars. My friend’s mom…. not so much. She and her husband fully embraced the bulk buying, and their purchase included a giant tin of peanut butter, because well, she knew her daughter and her daughter’s friends liked peanut butter, so why not?
It was around this time that I started refusing peanut butter. I told my mom I didn’t like it, and she just couldn’t figure out why until she was standing in her friend’s (my friend’s mom) kitchen one day and her friend was making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for her daughter and me. My mom watched as she peeled back a thin layer of plastic wrap (UK: cling film) and was repulsed by the stale stench of peanut butter that greeted her nose.
After that, my mom stopped offering me peanut butter sandwiches.
I didn’t start eating peanut butter again until I was in my 20s and had gone vegetarian and needed a source of protein. I’m still not a huge fan of it, and the fact that the US brands aren’t available here in the UK doesn’t bother me one bit.
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, the RSS feed(s), or through an e-mail subscription, please notify me.
[LJ readers reading this on the LJ RSS feed: Please click on the link at the top of the entry to go directly to my blog to leave a comment, as comments left on the LJ RSS do not get seen by me. Facebook users reading this from my Networked Blogs link can either comment on facebook or on my blog. If you are reading this via the email subscription, please click on the link to go directly to the entry on my site to comment as the email address used to send the posts does not accept replies.]
I’m a Guest Blogger!
Hey everyone, today I was a guest blogger over on Bugs and Fishes with a post about making Christmas crackers. You might remember I made some last year, and I’ll be making the ones for this year soon, too. Go check it out! And check out Bugs and Fishes, it’s a great blog!
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, the RSS feed(s), or through an e-mail subscription, please notify me.
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LJ Idol Week 5 Re-post – Chasing the Dream
I’m still hanging on with LJ Idol. I took a “bye” week for week 4, so here is my week 5 submission. I’m actually pretty happy that I wound up staying in the competition because it looked like I was in the bottom of my “tribe”, but somehow I wound up 5th from the bottom. Last week’s LJ Idol topic was “Inconceivable”. Here’s what I came up with to post. This also could be titled my journey to the UK. While I class this as “non-fiction”, some of it isn’t quite true to the memories…but for the most part it is.
I flitted in and out of the long line of students waiting to get into Westminster Abbey, taking photos with my new 35mm camera loaded with black and white film. I felt black and white was going to make better photographs of the old buildings, and the man at the camera shop showed me how I could easily swap between colour and black and white film without ruining my photos. My best friend, Erin, was standing in line next to our friend Rob and both of them were laughing at me as I attempted to capture everything I could see with my camera. We were only in London for two days as part of our high school’s music department trip to Europe and I was a huge Anglophile*, so I was soaking it all in.
We finally entered the cathedral** and I was speechless. I joined arms with Rob and Erin and tugged them around armed with the paper guide to the Abbey. We lit a candle for my father, saw where King Henry VIII was buried, looked at King Edward’s Chair, and spotted the Battle of Britain memorial window. The beauty of the glass took my breath away. Standing in Poet’s Corner, looking at the memorials for Chaucer, Shakespeare, Lords Byron and Tennyson, The Brontë sisters, and Jane Austen sent shivers up my spine. I squeezed Erin’s hand and told her that someday I was going to live in England.
I was waiting to see my new academic advisor at Penn State midway through my first year of studies when I spotted the brochure for the study abroad program at Leeds. Dreams of attending the program filled my head as I spoke with my advisor. Unfortunately, attending the Leeds program would do nothing towards my major, but if I was willing to spend an extra semester at university there was no reason I couldn’t apply for the program when I reached my junior year. I swapped my major into International Business, thinking that might give me a leg up on getting to live in the UK. I didn’t tell anyone, not even my boyfriend, about my plans for living in England as it was my secret alone. Unfortunately, my GPA was not high enough to apply for the study abroad program. I was crushed, but still determined to figure out a way to England.
I met my friend John in 1999 while attending a service project for Circle K. He and I hit it off and we became close friends despite attending schools 8 hours apart. John was planning on going to Japan for a semester abroad the following year, and I told him about my dreams of living in England. I was afraid he would think I was silly, but instead, he encouraged me not to forget my dream.
I forgot about my dream. I worked at a local pre-school and after I was laid off, I took a job working as a bank teller. My England dream came back, and I started talking to John about it again. John suggested creating a special bank account for my England fund and to set myself a goal of when I intended to move. It was 2002, so I told John I would give myself 10 years. I made plans to work my way up in the banking world. I thought if I got high enough at my local bank, I could then apply to work for an international bank in New York and then eventually transfer to a branch in England or even find a job with an English bank. I started pushing a small amount of money into my England fund with each paycheque. Only $50 plus loose change, but I did the math and if I continued to save $50/month for 10 years, I would have plenty of money to fund a move. I started telling the people I worked with about my England dream. Most of them scoffed and told me it wasn’t going to happen, it was impossible and inconceivable, and I should just give up. Even boys I dated laughed at me. I was still determined.
Unfortunately, I was laid off two years into my banker’s job and I spent the next few years holding down part-time jobs. I moved back in with my mom, and I needed to empty my England fund to help pay bills. I was lower than low. I started making jewellery and selling it online through a website and on Etsy and at local craft fairs. 15% of what I made was being put straight back into my UK fund. The money was trickling in in small amounts, but I wasn’t giving up. I made high quality Swarovski bracelets and necklaces, so from each sale I was getting between $1-$5 going into my UK fund. My 10-year clock was ticking and I started researching other ways of moving, thinking perhaps attending graduate school in the UK might be an option, or even becoming an Au Pair. I also became desperate to visit the UK, as I hadn’t been since 1997. But I knew that once I got a glimpse of Old Blighty again, I wouldn’t want to leave.
I met Tim online in 2004 and shared my dreams with him. He was very encouraging and told me that once I had enough money together to finance a trip I could come and stay with him in his spare room for as long as I needed while I job hunted. If I landed a job near him, he was willing to let me room with him until I could afford my own place. I was floored as no one had offered me this kind of encouragement before other than my friends Erin and John. We met in person in 2005 in Seattle and I didn’t get to spend as much time with him as I would have liked, but it was enough to know that I would feel safe staying with him if I came to the UK. That Christmas, he sent me a copy of Bill Bryson’s “Notes from a Small Island” with the inscription “to tide you over until you are here”. At the time, I was dating someone who didn’t understand my dream, and who enjoyed quoting “inconceivable” from The Princess Bride at me whenever I brought it up.
Tim and I continued our friendship and I developed another idea for moving. I was going to try to get a job again at IKEA and then work my way to transferring to a UK store. I used my connections from my 1998 job at the Philadelphia store to get a job assisting with opening the Canton, MI store. Unfortunately I broke my foot that summer and wound up needing to leave my job and moved back in with my mother in PA. My England account stood at around $200, not even enough for half of a plane ticket. I was depressed. If I wanted to meet my goal, I was running out of time. I began to think that a move to the UK just wasn’t in the cards for me.
In 2008 I finally decided I was just going to come to the UK. I would sell my car and use the proceeds for a plane ticket, and stay in Tim’s spare room for as long as I could. I hoped that I might be able to do some job hunting while I was visiting. In mid-2008, Tim and I confessed our feelings for each other and began dating. We decided that I would use my upcoming trip to determine if I really wanted to live in the UK. I would stay for a few months and in addition to seeing the sights I would experience doing things that people who live there do – things like grocery shopping, cooking, laundry, etc.
I fell in love.
We extended my visit to the alloted 6 months on my visitor visa, and I returned to the US, determined to make the permanent move. The obvious solution would be marriage, but I didn’t want Tim to marry me just so I could move to the UK and I really wanted to get to the UK on my own merits. In the end, I did marry Tim, but we waited until we were both ready for it and both wanted it.
I entered the UK on my two-year spousal visa in January 2010. This December, I become eligible for permanent residency. And then, I have a date with Westminster Abbey.
Nothing is inconceivable, you just have to persevere.
*An Anglophile is someone who is fond of all things British. At the age of 17, this meant I watched Monty Python, Mr Bean, AbFab, and Are You Being Served on PBS.
**Technically speaking, Westminster is not a Cathedral, but I thought it was when I was 17.
This coming week’s topic is “food memory”…I have no idea if I even have any food memories….
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, or the RSS feed(s), please notify me.
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Facebook has taken away the option to read blog posts directly as notes as of 22 November. My blog posts will still post over to facebook, but you will have to click on a link to go to my website to read them. I also have heard complaints recently about the new Google Reader, and I have to say, I’m not a fan of their new layout either. To make it easier for those of you who want to read my blog posts but don’t want to have to go to my website or use an RSS reader, I have added an e-mail subscription option. Just scoll down on the right side until you see “Subscribe by email” and put your email address in the box and click “subscribe”. For those of you reading this on Facebook, LiveJournal, or an RSS feed, go to http://blog.beccajanestclair.com and then scroll down to the subscribe by email option.
Happy Thanksgiving Part 2
Today, my family (on my Mom’s side) will be gathering in my aunt’s basement to celebrate Thanksgiving together as a family. My mom is the youngest of 9, so the numbers can range anywhere from 20 to over 40, depending on who is available. I loved family Thanksgiving. When I was younger, my cousins Jennifer, April, and I used to pretend to be waitresses and brought people their dessert. Once I knew how to write nicely, I was allowed to write out the placecards and put stickers on them. Thanksgiving has always meant a lot to me, and it’s always hard being away from my family on such an important date.
I sent my mom about 100 photos of the past year to share with the family, sent some flowers, picked some blog posts for Mom to print out to share, and wrote this letter.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Dear Family,
I hope you all can forgive me for not being there for Thanksgiving once again and for not being able to visit in 2011 like I had hoped. I would love to say I will be visiting in 2012, but it will all depend on the prices of airline tickets and what available time we have.
I’ve now spent my second year in the UK, and I still love living here. I could do without some of the cold weather, but I’m coping. At least it hasn’t snowed yet.
This year has seen a major change for us. Tim went on an interview for a higher position with his company (Network Rail) in December, and we found out in late January that he was being offered the position. There was a lot of back and forth with the company over Tim’s training, and in fact he did not complete his training until June and July and started his new position in August when we returned from our holiday in Wales. You will laugh when I tell you his job title – Tim is a MOM! It stands for Mobile Operations Manager which means he gets called when there is a problem anywhere in Lincolnshire. He loves it. The position is currently temporary (to make a long story short, the LOM in Newark was suspended, so a Lincoln MOM took over in Newark, leaving the Lincoln MOM job open) but if it opens up for a permanent position, Tim is going to apply for it.
Mom came to visit last December for Christmas, and we had a great time – though we were hindered by the snow and ice! Our trip up to Edinburgh got cancelled due to the snow/ice, but we still had a good time. Hopefully, mom has shown you all some of the photos we took while she was here.
In January, we went down to Brighton to visit Tim’s best mate (best friend) and to attend the Brighton Toy and Model Show, where Nick and his dad were displaying some vintage toys. It was fun to attend the show, and I got to see a little bit of Brighton with Tim’s cousin, Chris, and his partner, Phil. While Tim helped Nick out, Chris and Phil took me all over Brighton and showed me Brighton Pier and the Royal Pavilion. While at the show, we saw a model of the USS Intrepid in Legos. It was amazing. We returned from our trip to discover my arm infections were coming back.
In March I wound up in hospital for three days waiting to have surgery to cut out the infection. It all came to a head on a Sunday night when I reached out for a cup of tea and screamed in pain. Tim phoned up the NHS advice line, and they told him to take me directly to A&E (Accidents an Emergencies/the ER). A&E kept me in until 3AM when they finally sent me home to return on Monday morning to be admitted. Mom should have the blog post I wrote about my experience in hospital. It wasn’t too bad, and of course, it was free. Can’t really find fault with free! Fortunately, Tim was on his scheduled week off from work while I was in hospital. Unfortunately, it was the week we had planned on doing our vegetable plot, so we didn’t have a veggie patch this year.
In April, I attended the Royal Wedding! Well, okay, not really, but I did join the crowds outside Westminster Abbey to catch a glimpse of the royal family. I had a great time and it was nice to see the whole country come together for a celebration like that. Probably a once (or twice, if Prince Harry gets married) in a lifetime chance!
In May I was off to Birmingham to compete with my chorus. Unfortunately, we did not do as well as we had hoped, and we lost several members as a result. We also held a one-day workshop when we got back, and we gained several members. I also have been appointed Lead Section Leader alongside my friend Jan. This means we’re in charge of the ladies in our section and help to make decisions about the chorus. So far, I’m enjoying it.
I also found out in May that my close friend, M, was going to need a hysterectomy at the age of 34. She lives in Florida and does not have heath insurance because her employer did not offer it. I have been doing everything I can from here to help her raise money, including donating a few photos for her to sell on her website. She had her surgery in October, and if you’re interested in reading about her you can check her blog at http://giveneyestosee.com/blog.
Mom rang us up one night in May to tell me that my cat, Will, had passed away while at the vet. I was very upset and Prudence (Tim’s cat) must have known because ever since then she has been stuck to me like glue. She sits on my lap while we’re watching TV and curls up next to me in bed. I think she knew I needed a cat in my life.
June and July were quiet. Tim got sent on his course, which was a residential course down near London, so he was gone Monday to Friday. It was interesting spending time alone in the house! I decided to go down for one week and stay with Tim since the hotel was free and spent a week sightseeing in London and visiting some friends who live in London.
In July, a friend from high school came to visit for a few days while she was travelling in the UK and it was nice to see someone from “back homeâ€. I also still visit with my friend Jessy, who I went to high school and Penn State with, whenever we have time to get together.
In August, we went on a two-week camping trip to Wales. We would have loved to have gone back to Austria, but we were trying to save a little money by staying in the UK. We had a great time. Our campsite was gorgeous (see photos if I remember to send them to Mom in time). We spent our time with some of our friends who also happened to be in Wales the same week as us, and we took Tim’s brother, Ben, and his girlfriend, Marie, with us for a few days. We spent most of our time riding railways because it was what I wanted to do when Tim asked me to pick things to do. It rains a lot in Wales, so I wasn’t in the mood for looking at castles in the rain. Better to look at the scenery out the window of a train!
When we returned from our holiday, Tim started his new position, and he’s barely been at home since. There is a lot of overtime on offer with this job in the fall, so Tim has been taking it when it’s been offered.
In September, the winds came. It blew down half of our lilac tree and also started blowing all the apples off our tree, before I was ready for them. I spent several weeks canning apple butter and apple sauce, and I think I now have enough to last a year!
Tim had a week booked off in November, and we went up to Edinburgh for a few days so I could finally see it. This was our third attempt at going, and third time is obviously the charm!
The day we got back I had to sit my Life in the UK test. It’s one of the requirements for my permanent residency and eventual citizenship. The test wasn’t hard, but I worked myself up over it.
We also went down to visit Nick again, and on the way home, our car broke down. We had to wait 5 hours for the RAC (like the AAA) to tow us back home, and I’ve been battling a cold ever since. I don’t have much of a voice to speak with, so I don’t think I’ll be calling today.
In December, we will be applying for my ILR (permanent residency). This will cost £1400 (nearly $2k), but it means I will be able to live in the UK permanently. In 2013 I will be eligible for citizenship, too, at which point I will then hold dual citizenship with the US.
After we get my ILR, I plan on applying for my provisional license. Since they need me to send my passport, I have been unwilling to send it until I had my residency. I don’t really need to drive, but it sure would be nice. Especially now that Tim is driving a work vehicle and the car is here all day. I’d be able to get to places not serviced by the bus!
I hope everyone is doing well!
I sent Mom some photos to share, and she has printed out a few of my blog entries for anyone who wants to read them. If you have internet access, you can read my blog at http://blog.beccajanestclair.com. I try to update it as much as possible. I’m also on facebook – http://ww.facebook.com/beccajanestclair for those of you who don’t have me added. You also can email me – rebeccajlockley@googlemail.com. You can IM, video call, or call me on Skype. My account there can be found under annaonthemoon. For those of you who don’t have internet access, our address is:
[removed for blog post. If you need my address, ask!]
I still have my US-based phone number, too. If you want to call me, you can call [removed]. The number is based in Michigan, so all you pay is long distance to Michigan, instead of the UK. Alternately, you can call my google voice number to leave me a message at [removed]. This is a Lancaster number, but it only goes to a voicemail account and I would have to call you back (which I can do for free). My UK number is [removed]. You would drop off the initial 0 when dialling from the US.
I look forward to hearing from you! Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year!!
If any of you ever decide to visit the UK, please let me know, I’d love to see you!
With Love,
Rebecca & Tim
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, or the RSS feed(s), please notify me.
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US Traditions in the UK: Thanksgiving
Happy Thanksgiving to my US friends! I’m currently watching the Annual Thanksgiving Parade on WGAL courtesy of USTVnow after being stuffed with a traditional Thanksgiving dinner of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, veggies, and cranberry sauce topped off with a slice of pumpkin pie. UK friends when finding out what we were having commented with “kind of like Christmas”, and so the idea for this post was born.
Just about the only thing Thanksgiving has in common with Christmas is perhaps, the turkey and it’s fixings. I always have looked at Christmas as more of a nuclear family kind of thing, as in parents and their children (whether single parents, step-parents, half siblings, etc.) and Thanksgiving was always more of an extended family kind of holiday where you saw aunts, uncles, and cousins you rarely saw.
For many Americans, Thanksgiving is the start of the holiday season as well with Christmas only a few weeks away. Many people use Thanksgiving as the marker for starting their Christmas shopping or for putting up their Christmas trees. Growing up, Thanksgiving always meant a road trip from our home in NJ to my aunt’s house in PA. My aunt and uncle would drive to our house for Thursday dinner, and usually I’d get to go back with them when they left and my parents would follow on Saturday because my family did our big dinner on Sunday.
What is Thanksgiving? There are many stories about the first Thanksgiving, but the one that we are taught in primary school is that the Pilgrims were so grateful for surviving their first year they invited the Indians to a feast. I’m afraid the real story is probably not nearly as romantic or nice. Holding Thanksgiving in November didn’t start until 1863 with a proclamation made by Abraham Lincoln. Thanksgiving continued to be held sometime around the end of November with no set annual date until 1941, when it was decided Thanksgiving will be held on the last Thursday of the month in November. Thanksgiving has been both a religious celebration and a harvest celebration, but in recent years it has become more of a family oriented holiday and a time where you “give thanks” for what you have, and many people give to the less fortunate on Thanksgiving by donating food to local food pantries, or providing meals at a local soup kitchen. I spent several years helping out at my aunt’s church for their annual community dinner.
Even though I now live in the UK, I want to keep some of the American traditions alive. This year, due to Tim’s work schedule and Sunday being my MIL’s birthday, today it was just Tim and I for a noon-time dinner. I’ve been not feeling well lately, so it almost didn’t happen, but I’m glad I pulled it off. It was nice. And now I’m watching the parade and talking to my mom. Who knows? Maybe some day I will get to be in the US for Thanksgiving.
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, or the RSS feed(s), please notify me.
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LJ Idol Week 3 Re-Post
Here’s what I entered in for week 3 of LJ Idol, which ranked in the top 5 for my “tribe”. Our prompt for week 3 was coprolite. Coprolite is defined as fossilized dung, so anything relating to poop seemed to be fair game for the contestants.
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When the site manager handed me the can of Old Dutch Cleanser, I knew they had run out of tasks to give me. I was thirteen and participating in a program called Mission at the Eastward (or MATE as we referred to it as. Nothing funnier than telling people you were “going to MATE”). MATE was a program in Maine where groups of people would come in over the Summer months, live in the dormitories at the University of Maine Farmington, and help repair the homes of the people in the area who sustained damage over the Winter. Sometimes we also would be sent out to help Wilton Affordable Housing (like council housing here in the UK) with some of their projects if we had a lot of volunteers.
That week I worked on several sites because I wasn’t quite strong enough to do some of the building tasks, so myself and the other young teenagers were all given lighter tasks. We were usually sent to the sites that were near completion to go in and assist with painting or with cleaning up. I spent a lot of time that week trimming blackberry bushes, sweeping floors, and panting.
With four of us working on these tasks, it didn’t take long before we were shuttled over to a new project. The new project was renovating a home that had sustained lots of Winter damage. We started out in the garage, a very weak wooden structure next to the house. We were emptying the garage out and then the building would be torn down to make way for a newer, sturdier garage. Our group numbers increased, and by the end of the day the garage was empty and ready for demolition.
We really enjoyed it and dubbed ourselves the “demolition crew”. We made light work of the kitchen, ripping out the cabinets and counter tops to make way for new ones and once again, ran out of work. We were sent upstairs to take a look at the state of the bathroom. The bathroom was extremely dirty, but underneath all that grime was a gorgeous claw footed bathtub that was going to be saved and restored to it’s former beauty. When I was handed the can of Dutch, I knew this would be my project for the day.
I started by pouring drain cleaner down the drain. Once the drain was clear, I felt it would be easier to clean. It took an entire bottle of Mister Plumber to deal with the years worth of clogs. After I was satisfied the drain was clean, I devised a plan for cleaning it.
Old Dutch Cleanser was a granulated powder style cleanser, similar to Comet. You sprinkled it on, added some water to make a paste, and let it sit for a few minutes and then scrubbed it off. Given the state of the bathtub, I knew it was going to take quite a while, but I was going to give it my all. Donning rubber gloves that went up to my elbows (I was small for my age), I went to work.
Boy, did I work. I finally decided it was going to be easier to get the corners of the bathtub clean if I climbed inside of it. Working on the other side of the wall was my friend, Rocco. He was trying to remove the sheet rock to gain access to the plumbing behind it. All of a sudden, the entire wall gave way and collapsed into the bathroom. The bathtub was now full of tiny round mouse droppings…and I was covered in it.
The mouse droppings were everywhere. They covered my legs, my arms, and I had plenty stuck in my hair, too. Fortunately, the droppings were hardened from the years it had spent between the walls and there was no sign of the rodent. Unfortunately, I was a thirteen-year-old girl who had just recently discovered fashion, make-up, and boys. The older boy I had a crush on was working in the next room over and when he head my scream, came in to see what was wrong.
I bolted. I ran past both my crush and my friend, down the stairs and out the door where one of the adults managed to stop me. He went and got his wife, who helped me get as much of the droppings out of my hair as we could. When we returned to our dorms for the day I think I washed my hair at least three times to try to get the dirty feeling off of me. I’m pretty sure everything I had been wearing that day went straight into the garbage.
Despite all this, I was determined to finish my project. I didn’t want any of the mouse droppings to land on me again, so I wore a trash bag over my clothing and borrowed a hat. By quitting time, I had that bathtub gleaming.
On our last day, we always had a bit of a party. Each site group would put on a skit, we would look at a slide show of photos taken during the week (this was pre-digital!), and we would have an awards ceremony. Everyone received an award, no matter how silly. You could give an award to anyone you wanted for whatever reason. The man who got locked out of his car at one of the sites received a coat hanger and a piece of cardboard with “lock picking kit” written on it. The man who hit a deer received a block of wood with one of those things designed to deter deer mounted on top. The woman in charge of cooking for the week was presented with a set of cutlery glued to a plate ringed with dry macaroni. One of the teenage boys was given a roll of duct tape. Things like that. Nothing that would mean anything to anyone else, and nothing that cost too much money. And me? I was given a canister of Old Dutch cleanser.
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, or the RSS feed(s), please notify me.
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John Barrowman in Nottingham
This is a few weeks late, but on 3 November I went to see John Barrowman with my friend Helen and some of her work mates. We had a GREAT time. John really puts on a great show!
I managed to snag a few videos secretly on my small Olympus camera, so I thought I’d share them with you. Please excuse any of the weird focussing issues my camera might have been having – it’s only a point and shoot still camera and not an actual video camera, but I did my best!
Mandy
Link: http://youtu.be/cjKFSY5YLRE
The Winner Takes it All
Link:http://youtu.be/xZ73OKSubas
You Raise Me Up
Link: http://youtu.be/1WZJm59q8hI
I Am What I Am (partial, as when I went to follow his movement with my camera, the battery died!)
Link: http://youtu.be/fdOlLkMciLE
I also tried to get a few photos, but sadly, it wasn’t working out too well. Here’s the best two I managed to snag (click on them to view larger sized):
I’ve watermarked these because I know how crazy some people can get with hot linking or saving photos and I wanted to retain credit for them. If you want an unwatermarked copy for icons or wallpaper or whatever, please contact me.
As we were leaving, we managed to catch John leaving as well in “Barry Vanilow” (as he told us he named his van). John was practically falling out of his van to wave to all of us.
Will I go see John again? Heck yeah!
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, or the RSS feed(s), please notify me.
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RAC to the Rescue
Tim and I made a detour to IKEA in Essex on the way home from Shoreham-by-Sea. The cold I was developing on our last day was bothering me, so after we left IKEA I started reading on my Kindle to keep me distracted from feeling miserable. I asked Tim to stop at the next services for a loo and I turned on the interior light to continue to read. All of a sudden, the interior light went out and so did all the dashboard lights. Tim tried to put on a turn signal and discovered we also didn’t have turn signals, and turning the wheel became difficult. Fortunately, we were right at a services stop, so we barely made it into the Shell station before the car gave up.
We waited a few minutes and tried to turn back on the car. Nothing. So, we went inside the Shell shop, used the loo, and then tried again. Nothing. We went back into the Shell shop to ring the RAC and were told it would be a 75 minute wait.
We trudged back to the car and bundled up in layers and got back in the car. We tried using a torch (US: Flashlight) to read by, but the torch soon ran out of batteries. Fortunately, the RAC van showed up promptly and the RAC man got to work.
He suspected it was the alternator, and said that if he could source a part after hours he could put it on and it would cost £150. We agreed and a waiting game began as the RAC representative got on the phone to try and track down a part. They found the part, but needed someone to bring it out to us. Apparently this is a volunteer job done by the auto supply people, so if someone doesn’t want to answer the phone, they don’t have to. After an hour of waiting, we gave up. Our RAC man needed to clock out at 10PM, so he had to ring to have a tow truck brought to us, since we were looking at two hours back to our home, and then another two for the RAC truck to get back to it’s base. That was going to take us another hour long wait, so we decided we had better at least pick up sandwiches in the Shell shop.
After getting our food, the tow company rang us and told us the driver was putting on his boots and it would be about 20 minutes or so, depending on traffic.
The tow arrived around 10PM, and we walked into our house around midnight.
The plans were for the RAC to come back in the morning and tow us over to our regular mechanic in Lincoln. When the RAC arrived in the morning, he offered the same offer as the man last night did – that he could get the part and fit it and we’d only have to pay £150. We agreed, and off he went to pick up the part and I came back into the house to stay warm.
I glanced out the window several times and saw him working on the car. When he finally put the hood down, I came back outside to discover we still had a problem. The issue wasn’t the alternator. The RAC man determined that we had a faulty wire, and that was causing the problem. We wouldn’t have to pay for the alternator he tried to install, but he would have to tow the car into Lincoln to get it looked at by the mechanic.
It cost £450 to fix because after they fixed the wire, the alternator was fried and they gave us a genuine Skoda alternator (which was £280 instead of £150). *sigh*
But kudos to the RAC for doing everything they could to avoid us needing a garage. And thanks to the Shell station attendant, too. He turned up the heat for me when I came back into the shop several hours into our wait, and asked me if I needed a blanket (I was wearing a skirt). He also chatted with me and told me that I “sound like a Northern girl” and he thought I sounded more North than American! LOL.
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, or the RSS feed(s), please notify me.
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The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly
The Good
• We had a great time in Edinburgh
• I passed my Life in the UK test
• We visited Tim’s best mate in Shoreham-by-Sea
• I spent 2 days with my friend Jessy in Winchester
The Bad
• I got shoved into a wet paint pole at the railway station and got paint all down the arm of a new cardigan
• The car broke down on the way home from Shoreham-by-Sea
The Ugly
• After waiting outside in the cold for 5 hours with the car, I no longer have a voice and have a bad cold.
• Car repairs totalled £450
As a result, I’ve had to drop NaBloPoMo…I missed too many days in there and forgot to schedule things. *sigh*. But then again, with the move over to BlogHer, I somehow missed getting myself on the official rollcall list for it anyway. Oh well. I’ll try to post each day until the end of the month, but with skipping five days, I don’t think I can consider myself a participant any more.
One more good – White Spirit took the paint off my cardigan. It still reeks after a trip through the washing machine, but I’ve got it hanging outside to air it out.
I’ll write about the car in another entry. It’s an interesting story.
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, or the RSS feed(s), please notify me.
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Make it McBecca
Who doesn’t love a fast food breakfast? A toasted (English) muffin, an egg, some bacon, a bit of cheese, and of course, a hash brown. Tim has dubbed these sandwiches “McBecca”s because they are an exact copy of a McDonald’s McMuffin, but without the grease.
You will need:
One muffin per person
2 slices of bacon per person
1 large egg per person (or 2 smaller eggs)
1 slice of cheese per person
bag of frozen hash browns
milk
Follow the directions on the bag of hash browns for oven baking and bake 1-2 hash browns per person.
Split each muffin and toast it, butter optional.
Cook the bacon using your preferred method. I like to grill ours and then pull off the fat rind before eating.
Wisk together the eggs and a splash of milk, adding pepper or any other additional flavourings you want.
Cook your eggs the same way you would scrambled eggs, but try to keep the egg mixture in larger pieces (makes it easier!)
Now all you do is assemble your sandwich in whatever order you prefer. I like putting the bacon on the bottom, topped with the egg, and then putting the slice of cheeese on top so the warm egg melts the cheese a little bit.
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, or the RSS feed(s), please notify me.
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Make Your Own Draft Stopper
A few weeks back I talked about things we were doing to get our home ready for Winter and I mentioned making draft stoppers for the front door and living room door. Today I decided to make the front door draft blocker.
[It will be on the inside of the door, but there was better lighting if I took the photo outside!]
You will need:
-A pair of thick tights (40 denier or higher. Used is Ok, but make sure it doesn’t have any holes)
-Sand (I used about 6KG of builder’s sand, but you could get sand from a beach or a sandbox too. We just happen to have builder’s sand in the shed)
-Cardboard or a funnel
-Scissors
-Rubber gloves (optional, but it keeps the sand from getting stuck under your fingernails)
Step One:
Cut down the center of the tights to separate the legs.
Step Two:
Roll up the cardboard to create a funnel inside the leg, or use a funnel.
Step Three:
Fill up the leg with sand. This is best done outside! Once you think you have enough sand in the leg, stretch it out and move the sand around until it’s about the same length as the bottom of your door. Tie off the end and snip the edges. It should look something like this:
Step Four:
Take the other leg of the tights and stuff the sand-filled leg inside of it, leaving a small “tail” at the toe end. Tie off the outer tight at the top, cut the loose ends off, and tie a knot at the toe.
Your sand sock/draft buster is ready to use!
I’ve also been informed by my friend Lauren that if you use unscented kitty litter instead of sand it will absorb odours too. I did try this, and I have to say it wasn’t a success for me as it was too dusty and even though it says “unscented”, it still smelled like cat litter. I’m wondering if the clumping kind would have worked better, though.
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The contents of this post, including images are © Rebecca J Lockley and Tim Lockley unless otherwise stated and should not be reproduced without permission. If you are not reading this on http://blog.beccajanestclair.com, my facebook page, or the RSS feed(s), please notify me.
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