Let it Snow, let it snow, let it snow.....

Friends and Family- Remember how my beloved told me that it did not snow in England which was one of the many advantages of moving to Old Blighty. Hah! I guess we all know who the sucker is in this relationship especially after the evening we just experienced. What we can confirm is that England is not prepared for nor can deal with snow in any shape or form. I barely made it home in my little English car when it all started to go downhill. This is ironic as I was trying to go uphill in heavily falling snow. I struggled up our little country lane and managed to bypass the tractor which was coming straight at me. Where are the salt trucks? Where are the snow plows? Damn! That's right I am in England where it does not snow, just supposedly rains incessantly.

Those of you who know me understand that I am not the worlds best driver. Driving on the left completely throws me for a loop when it comes to judging distance. As I spurted up the lane I turned a little too early in our drive and rolled back down the hill. It took me 20 minutes of burning up my motor to make it in the driveway. All I could smell was burning rubber and exhaust. I was trying to leave room for Mr. Jeopardy's car which was sure to follow. I had left 3 messages imploring him to come home because of the roads. The poor young man on the tractor stopped to help to no avail. "Ma'am he advised, it is probably best to leave it where it is rather than tear up more of your yard." Looking at the picture above I should have listened to him. The two green furrows in the picture are indeed evidence of my stubbornness. We will not mention this little episode to the landlord. After all, maybe he won't notice the ruts.

I called my beloved while my attempts to turn into the driveway were unsuccessful. "The roads are fine, I don't know what your talking about. I will be home in a few minutes." I briefly explained my dilemma and inability to get into the driveway. "Well as long as your not in the yard we can get it out in the morning." Oopsies........

I tore up the yard and went into the house to regroup. My faithful companion Shadow was going crazy. He loves the snow and had enjoyed frolicking around my car in the drifts as I attempted numerous attempts at traction. I had just changed and was ready to pour myself a big glass of wine when my sweetheart phoned. "I had to abandon the car." What??? I thought you were minutes away? "Well there is no way anyone is making it over the hill. I parked in a drift and am hiking it to the pub." Are you ok I asked? "I am fine I have my umbrella and rubber soled shoes on. I will call a tow truck from the pub." Click.....I heard the dial tone.

Now I was frantic. Mr. Jeopardy never dressed for the weather. I could just imagine him without gloves or a hat in his dress shoes hiking a mile up the hill to our local pub. He would freeze to death trying to make his way through the drifts. He obviously needed me and I sprang into action! I ran upstairs to the 3rd floor and our ski bag. I put on ski pants, gloves, face mask, jacket and ran to pack a bag for Jeff. Shadow was jumping up and down like a Mexican jumping bean with diarrhea. He thought we were going for a walk. No, I told him. You will slow me down and slide in front of a car. You cannot come. He cocked his head and looked at me like I would certainly fail if I left without him. I left hurriedly with what I felt were essentials and was out the door on my way to make the two mile trek to the pub to save my beloved. I worried briefly what would happen to my canine companion if I did not return and pushing those terrible thoughts from my head.....I was out the door.

I made it down the lane to the main road where I encountered three men pushing a car out of the ditch. Tell him not to try to make it up Honey Lane I yelled. It's unpassable." We know we told the idiot that before he got stuck in the ditch. Where are you headed?" I told them I was delivering boots, gloves and a hat to my beloved who was stuck at the pub two miles up the road. "My wife is there as well so you can walk with my sons and I." We proceeded with our flashlights through the blinding snow. I had memories of that horrible Little House on the Prairie episode where there was a sudden blizzard and the the townsfolk went to the school house to look for the children but they had already been dismissed so Mr. Edwards and Charles went out with lanterns to search for Mary and Laura. Don't worry my love I am coming for you I thought. We trekked down Henley lane passed lines of stalled and abandoned cars. Our one saving grace is that no matter where you are in England you are just a stones throw from a pub. Hopefully Mr. Jeopardy had reached the Red Lyon and was warming up with a pint of Guiness as I trudged through the snow to rescue him.

The four of us (brave souls that we were) journeyed down the main road passing abandoned cars and people with false hope sitting and waiting for someone, somewhere to rescue them. After trudging on for a mile we saw a figure coming at us down the hill moving briskly with an umbrella to shield them from the snow. I recognized that brisk pace anywhere as my sweethearts walk and ran to him. Honey, honey I brought you boots, a hat and scarf honey, gloves too. Are you ok? "I am fine. What are you doing out here in the snow?" Are you going to stop and put on your boots I asked? "I made it this far just keep walking, hurry up your slowing me down" he replied. I had to half trot to keep up with him. I came to rescue you I told him. "I can see that honey but you are slow so try and keep up ok?"

Sigh, we were almost home when a phone started to ring. Whose phone is that I asked? "I don't know I found it in the snow in the middle of the road. Someone must have dropped it after abandoning their car." Well aren't you going to answer it? He handed me the phone and pressed on reminding me to try to keep up.

Hello? "Hello, who is this?" asked a woman's voice. Hi, we found this phone on the road in the snow. "Are you with my husband? This is my husbands phone. I am his wife." Oh well, no I am actually following my husband home. He had to abandon his vehicle and we are walking home. Your husband probably abandoned his car too and dropped his phone while walking. Let me give you our home number so he can retrieve his phone when the snow clears. "Do you know where he is now?" No, but he can reach us at this number....... "Well where did you find his phone? Do you know where his car is? Is he alone?" My husband was telling me to hang up. "Honey! Why do you think I did not answer the phone? Call them when we get inside!" I hurriedly hung up my do-goodeness done for the evening.

We finally made it up the driveway and I was exhausted. "What on earth did you do to the grass honey? Could you not see the driveway?" I hurried in the house to my canine friend. Shadow was ecstatic to see me again. He did not care about the state of the front yard only that I had arrived home to be with him. He barked and jumped happily. At least someone, somewhere was thrilled to see me. This someone just happened to have four legs and bad breath and did not care if I ruined the yard.

SAD

Seasonal Affective Disorder- I believe firmly it has caused my writers block or blogger block if you will. Anyone who knows me knows that if I am too bothered not to complain about my daily trials and tribulations then something is certainly amiss. I feel like I have not seen the sun since September. Oh wait.....I did but we went to Cyprus for a week in October so you cannot really count that. Dark at 3:45 PM and not light until well after 7 AM, grey, dreary, rainy and more rain. One of our English friends informed Mr. Jeopardy and I that there are new descriptors for types of rain here such as "Mizzle". Mizzle means it is misty with interludes of drizzle. There is also "Spitting Rain" which means that it is not quite any actual rain shower but more of a spitting from the clouds above. In one day in England one can awaken to a grey mist, a steady sprinkle, a raging downpour, snowflakes, mist again, clouds, more grey and ominous, and then a good old drizzle. Thank God the British people are for the most part a fantastic bunch. Long ago they figured out how to make the most of their 9 months of horrendous weather- the answer in one word is PUBS. Their is one on every corner and I am convinced that it is only the pubs which keep the population going warm with drink and hearty food (but mainly it is the alcohol). Our tiny village of Hurley has 4 pubs all within walking distance of our house-

The Old Bell (oldest inn in Britian dated 1135)
The Red Lyon
The Rising Sun
Black Boys (personal favorite)

Today however the weather broke briefly into snow (a nice break from the rain), wind, cold and yes....yes.....intermittent sunshine. By the way the above picture was taken from my window upstairs and proof that England does get snow. Mr. Jeopardy was wrong about that little factoid! It was just one of the many ploys used to get me over to this side of the pond. My poor beloved companion sheep dog has not been taken for many walks as of late and he too is suffering from my SAD. I got home early before dark closed in, ignored my laptop and decided to let poor Shadow get rid of some aggression on the sheep next door. Since moving to the new house in Hurley Shadow has become obsessed with the sheep in the field next door to our home. I often wonder what would happen if he could just slip loose of his collar. I am sure that is what he dreams about at night when his little feet run in his sleep. Sadly, the sheep are now immune to Shadow and his antics and instead of running in fear they now stare at him with something akin to pity and boredom in their expression. I know some may think it is mean to tease him with tantalizing fat sheep a handsthrow away but I just cannot help myself. He and his targeted sheep are featured in the short video below.

It is now 5 short days until Mr. Jeopardy and I head back to the states- where the homes are large and with closets, the pound goes a long way at the outlet malls and socialism and unemployment are fast on the rise!

The forecast for Las Vegas and Napa is sunny and in the mid 60s. If I can only make it another five days..................

=

The British Airing Cupboard.....Who would have guessed?

OMG! Have you ever had an epiphany? A moment when all the little pieces fall into place? An ahah, now I have got it by golly!

Yup, I have just had one of those. I feel like Sherlock Holmes, Magnum PI, Angela Landsbury and Columbo all rolled into one. Magnum is certainly my favorite, like me he could be slow at putting 2 plus 2 together but he always managed to look good doing it. I would even argue that Mr. Jeopardy is much like Higgins (all knowing and condescending at times) But once again I digress.......

After my last blog venting about the dreaded washer/dryer combo unit which comes with the new Hurley house I received some e-mails of support from expat friends from the Thames Valley American Woman's Club who are eighty members strong. The first was from my friend Candida who put things into perspective for me.

"I think your next step should be living in Hong Kong. You have had the perfect training.
Land is at a real premium in Hong Kong, so everyone (well almost everyone except for multi-multi-millionaires) lives in high rise blocks in small apartments. They are really expensive to rent and everyone lives in a much smaller space – no room for American style appliances or laundry rooms. They sell even smaller appliances than in the UK, since space is a real premium. Virtually nobody has a drier, instead you have this little drying rack which is fixed to the wall outside your kitchen or bathroom window and you pin all your laundry to that before you go to work. When you come home you take in your lovely dry washing. Or maybe not? If it has been a windy day and you haven’t pinned it on really well, there is considerably less washing on the drying rack than there was in the morning! Also bear in mind that the higher up you live, the stronger the wind is (we lived on the 24th floor). In the summer it rains constantly and it is 99% humidity, so nothing ever dries outside. We thought we were really lucky because we had 2 bathrooms which was a luxury compared to most of our friends, however we learnt very soon that the best use for the 2nd bathroom was as a drying room. I also invested in a really lovely chromed drying rack, which I shipped back to the UK when we returned. This next bit will really make you Americans laugh – of course this stylish rack was well used back in the UK, so when we moved to the USA we shipped it with all our other essential possessions. The house we rented in the USA I had only seen in the pictures on the internet, so you can imagine how excited I was when I saw the upstairs laundry room which was the size of a UK single bedroom, with the huge washer and separate drier and a built in drying rack. Needless to say my chrome drying rack which had been transported to its 3rd continent was never unpacked, but I couldn't’t be parted from it so it was shipped back with us to the UK when we moved back.
I still really miss my American laundry room and probably will for the rest of my life!"

After receiving that e-mail I felt a little bad complaining about my issues. At least my delicates were not flying over the streets of Hong Kong. Perhaps that is why all the good dry cleaners are of Asian descent. No tickee no washee for you! Maybe everyone sends their laundry out since there are no dryers to be had, hmmm...hence the need for many good Asian dry cleaners.

Then, I received another e-mail from Patricia who just melted her child's mattress protector yesterday in one of these deadly contraptions. "And I decided just this afternoon to wash Leilani's bedding and use the combo dryer too, instead of hanging it out on the rotary dryer outside (because that's where Leilani's stuffed animals are hanging to dry) By bedtime her bedstuff was not dry yet, that steamy damp stuff, as you describe! So Tony came home and gave it yet another good whack of drying and guess what? the rubber/plastic in the mattress protector started melting together! It was DRY but pretty warped to put back on the bed. I think we'll have to go and buy another one. I NEVER use the dryer, and I find our friends (Brits!) tend to hang their stuff all over the house to dry (undies over the chandelier, bras hanging from candlesticks...) ... my 88yr old mother thinks it's a disgrace, all the laundry hanging all over the house. Lucky for us we have the airing closet, nice and toasty and that's where my wash gets its final dry cycle".

Honestly, you cannot make this stuff up if you tried. All my friends and family who think we are living the high life overseas can sit back with their giant Maytag's and private laundry rooms and laugh their asses off.

It's a good thing Patricia has an airing cupboard I thought. Hmmmm.....wait I am having a Magnum PI moment. Where is TC and Rick to celebrate? Where is Higgins to scowl? Oh wait there he is- "Honey, do we have an airing cupboard?" "You know we do" Mr. Jeopardy replied, "it is where we store the luggage." What? Here I was wondering why that closet upstairs was always so hot inside. As a matter of fact, I was worried that the hot water tank was running too hot since the closet was so warm. It may be a potential fire hazard. I also wondered why the shelf installed in the closet had slats instead of solid shelving. "How was I supposed to know we had an airing cupboard?

"Did you know that is where we are supposed to put damp towels and hard to dry items?" My beloved looked at me like I was a moron. "Honey, every house in Britain has an airing cupboard but we use ours to store our luggage." This remark from the man who has not done a load of laundry on his own while I have resided in the same house and who I am convinced married me for just such a purpose.

I went upstairs for a closer look. Suitcases were stacked on the drying shelf. It really was very toasty in there. Wow, we really do have a drying cupboard. Now I finally understand what the dial selection on the washer/dryer combo unit means which represents cupboard dry. I could not for the life of me understand why anyone in their right mind would put their clothes away damp.

"Higgins! Oops, honey why don't we use this to dry things instead of leaving them hanging in the kitchen on the drying rack?" "Well where do you think you will put our luggage and vacuum and everything else you have shoved in there?" he replied.

Sigh... what do you call it when you have an epiphany for naught? My answer is vent and have another glass of wine

http://www.televisiontunes.com/Magnum_PI.html

How to get the most from your Integrated Washer Dryer

Well, it has been one month since our move from the little hobbit house to the Hurley, Berkshire house. I have come to realize that there is much compromise when choosing a rental home in England. Unless you are David and Victoria Beckham, a bailed out London financier or other like-minded multi millionaire your choices are going to be limited in Old Blimey. There is simply nowhere near the plethora of homes and upgrades to choose from compared to the States. The over population and limited land truly limit your choices when you need to be close to London and Heathrow airport as we do for work. However, after much back and forth and several tours of homes which were deemed unacceptable by Mr. Jeopardy we finally settled on our little gem.


What has changed you ask? Well I am happy to go through the pluses and minuses with you especially the major minus, the bain of my existence and the subject of this current blog.

The pluses in order of importance are-

• 2.5 baths!!! an upgrade from hobbit house 1 and 1/4 baths of which I was assigned the 1/4 located in the laundry room next to the washer and dryer (an ideal location)


• A large kitchen and living area downstairs, an upgrade from no room for a table in our last kitchen and having to walk through the living area to reach a table to a large table big enough for six chairs in the kitchen!


• A large backyard for Shadow to run through and bark endlessly at imaginary creatures


• A guest bedroom on the 3rd floor allowing us to sequester any in-laws visiting for extended periods of time (this was a big plus for Mr. Jeopardy as my parents will be here for several weeks next June)


• A quiet little country village with two pubs and one main street where the post office shares space with the local hairdresser. It is perfectly located on the Thames and within easy reach of major motorways and 10 minutes from the train station. We have few neighbors and much peace and quiet.


• I have an office! This is a major upgrade from the hobbit house where my office was the dining room which of course meant we could never eat in the dining room. Who wants to eat sitting next to a printer and fax? Now, (although it is technically not an actual room) I have been allocated space on the 3rd floor landing which has just enough room for my things and although the wifi reception is not the best up in my little perch I manage.

Now for the minuses in no specific order-

• No garage (we have crammed everything into a little shed in the backyard)
• A English size refrigerator (we now have two and considering a 3rd) and yes they are that small!
• A 4 burner electric stove which is a major downgrade for Chef Jeff who had a six burner gas stove at the hobbit house
• No pizza delivery in Hurley (a major tragedy in Mr. Jeopardy's viewpoint)

Last, but certainly not least the thorn in my side, bain of my existence and worst appliance ever engineered in the UK- the combo washer/dryer unit. Until I moved to England I had no idea that such a contraption even existed. I only wish I could have remained ignorant to it's existence. Instead it has a place of honor in my kitchen next to the dishwasher and kitchen sink.

The booklet itself is titled "How to get the most from your Integrated Washer Dryer". It is 37 pages which after having read through several times I still do not comprehend. A more appropriate title would be "How to wash one tiny load of clothes a day for hours on end and have a steamy, damp, wrinkled mess to show for it." I personally do not believe that any dial should have 21 separate wash/dry options on it. It just is not right.

My first encounter with this beast alerted me that we were in for trouble. Two days after moving in we had a flood caused by the plumber having failed to secure the pipe into the upstairs shower trap. I found every old towel we possessed and laid them down to soak up the water before leaving for work. When I returned that evening I placed 5 towels in the old W/D combo and set it for a 60 degree wash to be followed by a liberal 120 minute dry cycle. My beloved ever so helpfully commented "Oh honey that's nice. It does it all for you and you don't even need to take them out of the washer and put the towels in a separate dryer. It will save you time." If he only knew how naive he sounded. Four hours later the combo "time saving" unit beeped signalling it was done. I opened the door to find a soaking mess and a steamy sauna-like atmosphere. I debated keeping my face in the combo unit to steam out my pores or do the logical thing and set it for another 120 minutes and go to bed. I went to bed. The next morning the towels were still damp enough to be considered downright "wet". I put them on my new best friend (a drying rack)and went to work.

Since that time it has been a day to day irritation to say the least. I dream of returning to America and my mega-washer and dryer into which one can throw shoes, coats and duvets and they come out clean and dry after 45 minutes. The average wash-dry cycle on this English contraption takes 4-6 hours. The drum is so small you can only do a very small handful of clothes at a time. The hard water area we live in requires I use a fabric softener, color safe cleaning tablets and a hard water softener tablet. This adds up to a very expensive proposition.

My beloved who I can usually describe in the most glowing of terms has been no help whatsoever. He has suggested a clothes line for those oh so bountiful sunny English days and he has assumed that an imaginary house keeper exists who would be here to hang up and take down the clothes. After that he suggested that I take his bluejeans to the dry cleaner to be pressed since they come out so wrinkled nowadays. He did come to my rescue recently after possibly being alerted by my screams of frustration in the kitchen. I had attempted a daring move- a separate wash and a delayed drying cycle allowing me to remove certain items that needed drying flat. Instead it went directly into a second wash cycle and my husband grabbed the booklet out of my hand and quickly took charge of the situation. "Honey, you cannot put a time cycle on the dryer using this button you need to use the second one and turn this one to off first." Only another engineer could understand this gibberish concocted by other engineers.

How do I handle it? I pour a large glass of wine each night, go into my full bathroom and take a bubble bath in my new tub. It's all about compromise.....

Man Plans God Laughs

To the right Christmas 2008 with "the brothers , all so handsome".

Three weeks ago at the age of 39 my brother-in-law died. Needless to say it was a massive shock to the entire family. It has taken me this long to register in my mind the finality of it. My husband and I have always said how blessed we are in the fact that both our families were alive and thriving. We of course knew that we would eventually have to cope with death in our immediate family but we had not anticipated a death of a sibling so young. Like most, we assume time is on our side and we would not have to deal with death until a loved one has lived to be a ripe old age.

My mother has always said "Marjorie Allison you cannot plan your entire life out." I am a planner and so is my sweetheart. We had planned my in-laws visit down to the fine detail. My planning had always worked well for me thus far. It was to be their first trip to Europe and we had a whirlwind trip of a lifetime planned to London, Paris and Rome.

We are a very close family. I am incredibly blessed to have not just 2 but 4 amazing in-laws on my husbands side of the family. This time his mom and step-dad were flying in and it would be their first time outside of the States. We were cooking bolognese sauce the evening before their flight was due to leave for London. I had spoken to my mother-in-law just 10 minutes prior, ensuring they had everything packed and ready to go. They had been fretting about the packing and the luggage allowance for weeks. The phone rang and I thought for sure when I answered they had another question. Jeff's step dad Wayne asked to speak to him. We ended up flying back to Charlotte on the same day they would have arrived in the UK.

Death itself is never the worst. The hurt and grief you see when you watch the people you love hurting is the most painful experience. There are no words to comfort my husband or his family which I have come to love so much. I cannot take away the confusion, anger, emptiness or guilt they are feeling. The best I can do is just be me and love them. I have never been able to write eloquently when it comes to sadness and loss. I embrace life with humour, sarcasm and self detriment when I attempt to put our lives into this blog. It is for this reason I cannot describe how special Jody was. You could not translate into flowery words the power of his charm, magnetism, and mischievousness. You could not describe the loss of a brother, father, son and friend who meant so much. The man could sell sand to the Arabs and they would have parted life long friends and thinking they had gotten the better end of the deal with their crappy sandbox.

A very dear friend sent me a card which reminded me that-

"The risk of love is loss and the price of loss is grief. The pain of grief is only a shadow when compared with the pain of never risking love."

For this reason we will remember Jody as he would have wanted- full of life, mischief, bullshit and his little chuckle which we all knew and loved. We will remember the good memories with laughter and love and because of his death love one another all the more. You cannot plan everything in life but you can love every day and never take family and friends for granted. Life is a tenuous thread and at the end of the day all we have is our health and the health and well being of our loved ones.

This next blog Jody would have certainly chuckled at and I have chosen it especially for him. I cannot take the pain and hollowness away but I can remind everyone that Jody was loved. He was loved by so many and that is the greatest thing you could ever say about another human being. I can only hope one day the same is said of me.

PS- Aunt Robin, Uncle Tim and Kris- may you never lose touch with our family again. We are so happy to have you back in our lives again.

"At the next roundabout turn right. That will be the third exit. Sigh, I listened to the DVLA instructor with one ear. I had just returned from the States (IN COACH CLASS) and with food poisoning and post horrific family loss to have England's finest test my UK driving skills. Never mind that I have driven for over 20 years in the States. That is just not good enough and unfortunately for all American expats the British have a militant view of passing the driving exam. They have cars buzzing to and fro on all major roads with Driving School logos on the side. The average Brit takes 30 lessons prior to passing the exams!!!! The theory test is based on 1500 questions and must be passed prior to even taking the practical or driving exam. I am convinced it is a racket. £35 pounds per driving lesson, £55 pounds for the theory test and finally £60 for the practical. It has taken me 4 months of living and studying in Britain to get to this point. My beloved had low expectations. " Don't worry honey you can always take it again."

This was a rather smug attitude from the man that easily passed on his first attempt and who Mr. Leonard (my dear ever patient driving instructor) stated was a "confident, able minded driver". I wanted to tell my driving instructor that although I had 15 lessons to Jeff's one pre-test lesson I DID NOT have 2 driving citations from the traffic police for speeding. Confidence may not always be the finest attribute. After all, I was not the one scheduled for a UK Speed Awareness Course. Hah!

I came very close to cancelling the test except for the fact I would lose out on £60. I was sick as a dog and 5 pounds lighter due to food poisoning. I ended up showing up for my test late, lightheaded and nauseated. We were off to an auspicious start- "Your an American then?" Yes. "Ahah". What the hell does Ahah mean? "At the next street please execute a reverse around the corner maneuver". For those of you with any common sense this is when we do a U-turn in the road once we have realized we missed our turn. For the Brits, they miss the turn, bypass the next street and then do a perfectly executed reverse turn on said street and realigning with correct direction. Worse yet, they test you on it. My mind was going a million miles a minute. Mirror signal and maneuver. My driving instructor's voice was again in my head. "Before any stop, start or maneuver check your mirrors, act and then check your mirrors again." If I drove like Mr. Leonard wanted me to I would resemble Stevie Wonder behind the wheel.

Do you know what my worthwhile input to this all important test was? Oh yes, I remarked ever so stupidly "I am not sure what the speed limit is here so I will keep it at 35 mph." DUMB! How can anyone with a brain tell the testing agent they have no clue what the speed limit is. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

At the next opportunity please execute a "Turn in the Road Maneuver". For those of you unfamiliar with this popular British road maneuver it is essentially a 180 degree turn where no tire may touch the kerb (curb in the states) and whilst observing for other road users. The hiccup for me is that my tires are curb magnets and I have the scuffs, abrasions and missing chunks of tire to prove it. It is also difficult as the DVLA instructor expects you to do a 6 point visual check during the "three phases" of the maneuver. I will not bore you the details but suffice it to say they expect another Stevie Wonder on speed impersonation. At the end of my 45 minute exam I was sweating, irritable and expecting the worst. My declaration of ignorance of the speed limit was sure to do me in.

"Ms. Crenshaw, I am pleased to tell you that you passed." Really??? Ooh shut-up Marjorie before he rethinks it. Act confident, compose yourself! Really? Now for the best part......

I scored better than Mr. Jeopardy! I was only docked one point. The one point was for UNDUE HESITATION. This probably meant the actual speed limit was higher than I had wrongly assumed. The poor man probably could not wait to get rid of me.

I could not wait to call my beloved and tell him. I was rather chuffed at the moment (British slang for delighted, pleased and very happy). He immediately answered on his work line expecting the worst and prepared to comfort me. I told him I had passed. "Really, wow that's great." Hmmm..... that sounded more disbelieving than congratulatory. I then told him my score. "Really?" Now it was definitely a tone of disbelief. Knowing my beloved this "really" sounded as if I had just told him aliens had landed at the hobbit house and we were all expecting him home for dinner.

Yes, I really did so you can now confidently attend your speed awareness course while I with my UNDUE HESITATION will never have to worry about points on my new UK license.

Like Father Like Son!

Ohhhh no! A peaceful, laid back Sunday has turned into a mad frustrating evening for me. Both my dishwasher and work computer have died. Normally this is not such a big deal in terms of the dishwasher but of course the damn latch would break when it was full of dirty dishes and two days before my beloved outlaws show up. Mr. Jeopardy whom I married for his culinary skills has decided to make his famous bolognese sauce for their arrival Wednesday evening. While this is a delicious meal it entails him dirtying a scandalous 5,ooo dishes, pans and pots in the process. One guess as to who typically is on dish duty.....

The kitchen is only big enough for one person to work in at the hobbit house so I usually follow with dish duty afterwards. I was beside myself as the landlord said they would send out a repairman on Monday but there is a good chance our dishwasher will need to be replaced. I DID NOT want to take all the dishes out and do them by hand, that would be sooooo medieval. I was in the midst of bitching and moaning after my work computer crashed when my sweetheart took matters into his own hands. I would say he did it out of love but my gut said he just wanted some peace and quiet.

God bless his little heart! He pulled a move out of the Bill Crenshaw handbook. His father has a three car garage full of tools and whatnot but is more famous for his "duct tape" like fix its. If something is broke Jeff's Dad can fix it and occasionally his fix its are very creative. It may not be aesthetically pleasing, safe to building code or fireproof but it always works in a pinch. Mr. Jeopardy shoved a dining room chair against the dishwasher to keep the latch shut and then added our butcher block cart which has wheel brakes as an extra enforcement. Good news to all- the dishwasher is now running but the bad news is no one can move in the kitchen now due to furniture blocking the way. It looks like we will be BBQ'ing tonight!

Now if he could only fix my hardrive.......

God Bless Texas!

(Below) Mr Jeopardy supervising the Pimms Tent at the Thames Valley American Women's Club 4th of July Picnic. Isn't he the best?

(Right) Our soon to be new house with YES COUNT THEM 2.5 BATHS!

We are moving out of the hobbit house this September. My beloved and I found a home in Hurley about 5 miles from where we currently live. It has no garage so we will need to put in a shed and less cabinet space (we have already been to Ikea) and one of those God-awful washer-dryer combo units which takes 24 hours to do a full load of laundry. We have compromised because it has 2.5 baths instead of 1.25 (of which the .25 is mine) and a much larger kitchen. It is not much more square feet- just less rooms and a bigger sense of room. Space is a foreign concept here in merry old England.

Sadly, Jeff's mom and Step dad will be arriving next week and have to do their time at the hobbit house. It will be good for them and they will return to the States with a whole new appreciation for their American size home. Sadly, they may go mad in the interim once they see their bedroom here at HH central. The best part is the third floor bedroom in our new house. It is a good size space and Jeff immediately declared it as a good place to sequester any visitors as it is all by itself on the third floor far away from his living space. I think this sealed the deal for him as he knows my mom and dad will be coming out next year. He has his limits and anyone who has spent time with my dad could understand his thinking. He will still need to install a TV in the guest bedroom or we will have to deal with my father watching MSNBC and CNN at an ear splitting level downstairs and muttering to himself about the greedy, thieving liars in government and how they are not fooling him for one minute. But I digress again....

Last week was paradise for me. I went back to the States for company training in Texas. I flew in a day early so that I could spend all day Sunday shopping having laid out a map of all available retail shopping in the vicinity of Plano from my home computer in England. I have not bought a single article of clothing in England as I have no idea where to shop, do not understand their sizing system and refuse to pay for what they term fashion at outrageous prices. I have told Mr. Jeopardy that I am saving him money by power shopping on my stateside visit as the pound is worth twice the value of the dollar. I turned the radio to country in the big gas guzzling rented SUV and was on my way and driving on the RIGHT! When first spotting the outlet stores it was like reuniting with old friends. Forty brand name stores all in one Texas size parking lot. I was on cloud nine! I marvelled at all things ubiquitously American which I had already forgotten- the wide power highways for plenty of room to maneuver, houses five times the size of our home in the UK and 3 Super Targets and 3 Best Buys in the 15 minute travel time to the outlets and of course the sheer volume of restaurants and shopping centers. Heck, my suite at the Homewood Suites hotel was the same size as our entire downstairs in the UK.

My only disappointment was the weather. It has been raining for the past three weeks in the UK. I do not understand why they even employ weather forecasters here in England. Basically the summer forecast is the same every day- rain, interspersed with more rain in the form of sprinkles to a good old fashioned downpour and with occasional hail thrown in for excitement. Don't believe me? Check the forecast for Maidenhead, England for the next 5 days. Rain, yes rain. We had one freak week in June of sun and 90 degree weather when we were forced to purchase a portable A/C unit and which we have not plugged in since. Anyway, needless to say it rained for four of my seven days in Texas. Normally it was supposed to be 100 degrees and sun, sun, sun but I guess they heard I was on my way.

I had such a good time with my international class in Plano. We had folks in from Poland, Brazil, Italy, Turkey, Spain, the Czech Republic and Japan. As Americans we tend to isolate ourselves from the rest of the world for many reasons. Probably one of the biggest reasons is that even though we live in a global society America is so vast a country that most people do not feel the need to leave and see the rest of the world. You could find everything you are looking for right there at home. Whereas in the rest of the world countries are much smaller and people travel quite easily from one to the other. Here in England- Italy, France, Spain, Ireland, Germany and the Nordics are just a short Vegas-like trip away. Because of our sometimes self imposed isolation we tend to make assumptions about the rest of the world based on what we read or watch on TV. That all changes if you have the opportunity to sit down and talk with people first hand. It is one of the most rewarding things about living overseas.

Now you may be asking if I complain so much about the UK weather why did we sign up for this gig? Well the answer is easy- my sweetheart and I are doing three "weekend" trips this month. We will be spending the last three weekends of August in Paris, Rome and Provence. All three still allow us to return to work for 4 days each week. Pretty cool huh?

News from Across the Pond

I have finally done it. I cannot put it off any longer.....I have booked my driving test. Dmmm...Dmmm.....Dmmmm! Those loyal readers (all 2 of you) remember my "issues" when relocating to the UK. I lost a mirror (left side of course), scarred my left sided tires and hubcaps to the extreme and scared my driving instructor, the ever patient Mr. Leonard who informed me I had bad habits which I needed to overcome and was indeed worried about my sense of spatial awareness.

The English make it EXTREMELY difficult to obtain a license if you are from the States. What galls me is that expats from Japan, Australia, South Africa, New Zealand and Canada can legally exchange their licenses for a British license. Americans are legally allowed to drive in the U.K. for a period of up to twelve months on their U.S. driving license. The 12 month period commences upon the first day of your residency in the U.K. If you will be resident longer than 12 months, you will get to experience the joy of taking both a written (called theory in the UK) and driving (called practical in the UK). Additionally, you must apply for a provisional licence before taking either of these tests. There is a 42% pass rate for people taking their practical for the first time. So the country which allies itself with Britain and certainly has more in common with Britain than Japan or Canada have to go through this PIA process!!!!

I have passed my theory test which draws questions from a pool of 1500 questions. It was NOT a cakewalk even after 4 weeks of study. I have scheduled my practical for August 19th for the bargain basement price of 62£ or the equivalent of $100 American dollars. By the time I total the lessons, practical costs, theory test costs and study DVDs it will be close to $600 American.

I took a series of driving lessons with the wonderful Mr. Leonard when I first arrived in the UK. I have since signed up for some refresher courses to review maneuvers and run through some mock exams.

Mr. Leonard is from Scotland and reminds me a great deal of Mr. Rogers from my childhood days. Everyone please sing along-

div>

It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood, A beautiful day for a neighbor. Would you be mine?Could you be mine?...

On our last lesson months ago Mr. Leonard stated that while he felt I was a very bright and earnest young woman with good intentions it was obvious that I had been driving poorly for some time without anyone correcting my bad habits.

Today was our first "refresher" lesson and to my delight Mr. Leonard stated I had "vastly improved". From the look on his face I could not tell if he was impressed or truly surprised that I had not killed a fellow Brit or totaled my little Peugot.

Here are some amusing comments from our lesson:

-Roll over the speed bumps Marjorie don't jump them.

-Remember occasionally you need to use your "cat's whiskers" to creep through these parked cars.

-Avoid the "numptys" on the road (numb above the neck drivers)

-Steady now, steady, all 4 wheels on the ground

-It's not "dodge em" stay well clear of the cars going through here. Let them see your car, weaving in and out can shield you from their line if sight.

-Remember to signal on the roundabouts, signal now, signal. I will write that down for you.....

Next lesson..........maneuvers! Ooh how exciting.

Crazy from the Heat

Center Picture- Our Dysfunctional Dog Shadow. I had to hold him down in the yard to get this picture as he is also afraid of the camera. This is why he looks so worried.

Pic on the left is our portable A/C unit which we broke down and purchased last weekend. Pic to the right shows our neighbors home which proves that we live in a high class area of England. The temperature has been hovering around 80 for the past 7 days and the humidity is sweltering. I miss central air which is quite rare in England. After all, who needs it the other 51 weeks out of the year? I can just barely fit by the airconditioner in the bedroom to my side of the bed. The hobbit house Master Bedroom is the size of our walk-in closet in California. Well there is no sense reminiscing now...... My mood has been lifted considerably by the sun and this morning when I walked outside to see that our neighbors had somehow juryrigged an airconditioner outside their window with bungee cords just made my day. How high class and so safe to boot! Let's hope no pedestrians are walking by when this sucker gets ready to go. You cannot see it from the picture but they have have a mercedes and two classic cars which leads me to believe they just have no taste instead of a lack of funds to purchase a portable unit.

My beloved turns on the portable unit as soon as he arrives home in the evenings to start "prepping the bedroom". It has been delightfully chilly with the only inconvenience centering on our 8 year old Sheltie "Shadow" who is afraid of every little noise and who has numerous other issues to mention. The air compressor has given Shadow fits. He usually sleeps on one side of the bed so that when we swing our feet out of bed we need to vault over him. The first time the air compressor went off he charged the bedroom door and scratched furiously as if the demons from hell were out to get him. We have calmed him down to the point that he now only scratches furiously 2-3 times per night just enough to disturb my sleep cycle. He wants out when the compressor goes off and then gets too hot in the hallway and then wants back in. I have always wanted to grow up to be a doorman to a dog and it seems I have achieved my dream.

I hope all is well in the States! Cheerio and all the best from the wonderful Hobbit House.

Amsterdam, Ireland, In-laws and Big Blue

My grandmother would always say she was happy to see my brother, sister and I visit but always happier to see us leave after an exhausting time babysitting the three of us. I think this is how my in-laws felt after an exhausting 2 week tour of England, Amsterdam, Ireland and back to Clover, South Carolina. After several days in the hobbit house they were eager to stretch their legs in their large homestead in the States. I have to admit the England hobbit house is absurdly small for 4 people and a 40lb dog. We did our best by storing the two wardrobes which were kept in the spare bedroom in the garage and giving up drawer space by stacking clothes on top of wardrobes. Jeff's step mom Renee searched high and low for an outlet in the upstairs bathroom which is the largest of the two. I too was flummoxed as I helped her in her search. Finally, my beloved told me that it was illegal to have outlets in the bathrooms in the UK due to the poor mixture of 220 volts and water. This explains why my husband who has ownership of the upstairs bath has his dryer in the spare bedroom which has our wardrobes in it and just enough room to turn around. I in the meantime do not suffer this inconvenience as my bathroom is downstairs in the laundry room. I simply take two small steps out of the shower and plug my hair dryer and flat iron into the outlet next to the washer and dryer. I guess a running washing machine and a hair dryer is deemed safe by UK governmental standards. Renee spent a lovely two weeks hopping from the upstairs bath to the "wardrobe room" whilst curling her hair. She did an admirable job given the challenge. Now there is a second woman in the family that can vouch for the all day time consuming process of washing and drying a load of clothes with a dreaded UK washer/dryer. She soon gave up and by week two was drying her clothes on the rack outside in the sun. This is how we discourage those pesky out of town visitors.

My father in law didn't seem to mind. He commandeered the coffee table with his mini laptop and was set. My father in law only requires access to a laptop, camera and peanut butter and mayonnaise for his sandwiches to survive. Occasionally this varies to bacon and mayonnaise sandwiches for breakfast. He is a man of simple food requirements. I strongly suspect that our dog Shadow had more than his fair share of these sandwiches. He drank gallons of water during their stay and was always licking his chops. Whether this was due to the bacon or the peanut butter I cannot say for sure. He for certain was sad to see them go as he was the best food source of off limit goodies he has seen for awhile.

After a day and a half of rest and just when they were getting their feet under them we took them on a lengthy train ride to Amsterdam. Above is a picture of them on the train... perhaps we should have let them recuperate a little more at the hobbit house. We stayed at the Hotel Pulitzer which was a block away from the Anne Frank House. I honestly had no idea that Amsterdam was so beautiful with the canals and architecture of the buildings. I was also surprised at the scarcity of cars. Everyone from the young to the old was on bikes and they also like the cars had no respect for walking pedestrians. My father in-law Bill had a few close calls with the bikes and threatened to "drop" the next dutch native which cut him off. I knew he was serious (being from South Carolina) so I kept a close watch on him. During our time in Amsterdam we visited the Van Gogh Museum, the Anne Frank House, Heineken Brewery Museum, walked for miles and took a wonderful canal tour. The canal tour took us through the Red Light District which I had warned my father in-law about repeatedly. No pictures are supposed to be taken of the ladies working the windows of the district. My father in-law who is an avid photographer sporting two cameras and enough megabytes of memory stick to photograph a war felt he was safe from the bouncers in our little boat. Thankfully we were safe from the security in the middle of the canal as he snapped away and several ladies went scurrying behind doorways when they saw the camera. Never fear gals, your image is safe as his photographic technique involves raising the camera above his head and snapping away. This usually results in one good pic out of 10 and a blurred image at that! We had a fabulous time in Amsterdam, great food, great weather, bottled wine from Chile and Argentina (a must for Renee and I) and allot of laughs.

The time progressed at the hobbit house fairly rapidly. I believe the in-laws survived through sheer will and determination. They braved the tube independently and saw London on a double decker red bus, visited Windsor Castle, the London Eye and various other sites. I was a little peeved at first. It took them two days to master the London tube system while I was still hopping on the wrong damn train every other week for work. Despite the challenges of travel and the tiny hobbit house they pushed on. Do not get me wrong- they grew more weary by the day but pushed on due to their own unique intrinsic qualities which has made it work for them for over 29 years of marriage. My father in-law Bill will not complain even if there was a gun pointed at his head. He could be be bleeding profusely from a hit and run and he will say he is "just fine". Through long arduous frustrating days of travel he was "just fine". On his deathbed he will be "just fine" as long as there might be peanut butter and mayonnaise ingredients for a sandwich. During our trip from train station to train station, plane to plane, I would ask......Bill are you ok? Sweat would be dripping down his face and his color pale, chest heaving and weaving back and forth on his feet he would reply.....I'm fine. I cannot tell you the number of times I prayed. "Please God do not kill Jeff's dad while we are trying to show him a good time". Another plus to having my father in-law around is that he is what is lovingly known as a tinkerer. His tool shed in South Carolina could house 3 school buses with room for a few ATV's. Thus he was able to in no time at all have our little gas grill which has been sitting in the garage for a month up and running. He also put up a retractable hose wheel for us so that I no longer had to cart my sprinkler can back and forth to water our flowers. Oh happy days here at the hobbit house!

My mother in-law Renee is his complete opposite and like myself not afraid to voice her opinion. She will tell you exactly how she is feeling and how it can be improved on. Our "wine time" kept creeping up over the arduous 2 weeks. On day one we had wine at about 6pm. On the last day of the trip on the return ride to Heathrow Renee had packed wine for her 11 am departure. During our days of travel I would be thinking..... I so could use a glass of wine right now. Renee came to my rescue every time by stating " OK! Enough! Time for wine!" My thoughts exactly!

Our trip to Ireland was amazing. Cork is more beautiful than I could have imagined. The flight to Cork is only one hour from Gatwick airport. The challenge is flying the much dreaded Ryan Air to get there. Ryan Air is an Irish low cost airline which is very popular in the UK due to having the lowest fares to most tourist destinations. It is the largest airline in Europe in terms of passenger numbers. We were able to book 4 people to Cork and return for under £200 pounds. The caveat you ask? They nickel and dime you for everything else under the sun. If you do not check in on-line it is £20 to do so at the airport. If you check in online it is only £5 per person. You are permitted one bag which must include your purse and laptop. ONE BAG ONLY! If you buy anything at the duty free shop or airport prior to the flight it had better fit into that one bag. This one bag must weigh no more than 10kg. Any checked baggage will cost you dearly. Would you like to bring an infant and carry them on your lap? That will be £20 pounds each way. Their car booster? An additional £10. There are no assigned seats. If you would like priority boarding that will be £3 each way. Sodas and water on board are £2.50. Ryan Air have aimed to remove any non-essential items from their aircraft. The airline seats do not recline (which saves on seat maintenance), and lack seat pockets (which makes cleaning the plane easier. Pretty smart huh? The CEO made headlines here in the UK recently when he was considering charging for use of the toilet while in flight. The latest announcement is that they will abolish all checked bags and passengers who wish to fly with Ryan Air can check their bags plane side (for a fee of course) and only if they can get the extra or oversize bags through security. The end result of all this was that my in-laws ended up buying two very small suitcases which met the baggage requirement dimensions and weighed them carefully with our brand new luggage scale! After all that fretting and worrying about fitting only essentials into their carry-on the airline did not weigh them in the end! Instead, we were treated to their printer breaking down in the Cork departure lane where we needed to have our Visa's authorized and stamped prior to going through security. The broken down printer resulted in a 45 minute delay before they figured out they needed to open another line. I swear to you we would still all be standing there if I had not gone and found a member of the Ryan Air management team and got them on the case!! The Brits are too damn polite for their own good and will not make a fuss even if it means missing their flights. Now, this does not stop them from moaning about it while standing in line it just means that they do not want to be rude by calling attention to the problem and lodging an official complaint. This delay and the subsequent delay in the security line nearly caused us all to miss our flight. Our gate was at the farthest reaches of the terminal and we were only saved by my beloved sprinting ahead and stopping them from closing the door. I did indeed think my father in-law was going to have a heart attack then and there. He helps run the USO as a volunteer at the Charlotte airport and declared he had never seen such disorganization in his life. We ended up getting the last 4 seats on the plane.

Once we got to Cork things started to look up. The car rental service asked my husband if he would like a free upgrade from the touring wagon we had reserved to a minivan. Little did we know that the minivan was a 13 seat mini bus with a clutch! See the picture above for a close-up of my father in-law in row 3 seat 9. Try driving on the left hand side of the road from the right hand side of the car using a clutch and driving a van the size of the Partridge Family minibus on tiny Irish country roads. Jeff let me drive, proactively fastened his seatbelt and hung on. My father in-law shouted from row 3 "Downshift! Next Gear! Clutch! Clutch!" My mother in-law Renee shouted "she's doing great!" (Renee has a strong spirit for adventure) We stayed at the Sheraton Fota island Resort and Spa which is an absolutely beautiful hotel in Cork, Ireland. I would highly recommend it. The South West corner of Ireland is green, lush with an amazing coastline. We drove the Ring of Kerry and the Ring of Skellig, saw Blarney and Kinsale and had a magnificent time. Our only regret was that we needed more time. After an uneventful trip back with our bags stuffed full of souvenirs (only one bag) we made it back to the hobbit house.

I think it is safe to say that although I believe they enjoyed themselves our guests were more than ready to get back home and recover.

My father in-law handed me a memory stick with what I believe is close to a thousand pictures on it. I am waiting for an eventual rainy day here in Old Blighty to go through it all. It will remind me of warm, sunny, fun-filled days.

Scamalot

It is so reassuring to know that scandal, corruption, deceit and greed are not just representative of the States.

http://www.thedailyshow.com/video/index.jhtml?video=d=228030&title=Scamalot

For the past month or so the news in England has been filled with the "MP Expense Scandal" details and how England's finest who are equivalent to the United States senators and congress have been padding their income on the backs of the tax payers. There are roughly 650 MP's who represent England. Mr. Jeopardy has pointed out that this is the same number England had when they ruled half the world! We can sure cut that number in half because that is NOT the case anymore.



Who needs Rod Blagojevich trying to buy a senate seat when you have news like this!!! What galls everyone is that we are in a deep recession here in Britain and many people are struggling to make ends meet as in the colonies. Here are my favorites because if you can't laugh at the audacity of it all you will most surely cry. Perhaps Barack Obama can find room for them in his cabinet with the other tax shirkers......

Background: Most MPs have to live in two places - in their constituencies and in London where they attend Parliament. They are allowed to claim expenses to cover the cost of running a second home. Details of what has been claimed on second home expenses have never been revealed before the Daily Telegraph got hold of a leaked copy of all the claims. Many MPs have been accused of extravagance, of over-claiming and avoiding tax on home sales.

Douglas Hogg, the former agriculture secretary, submitted a claim to have the moat around his country estate cleared. He submitted the £2,000 claim for the Kettlethorpe Hall estate in Lincolnshire where he lives with his family. The MP for Sleaford and North Hykeham, whose father was Tory grandee and former Lord Chancellor the late Lord Hailsham, also submitted claims to help meet the cost of a full-time housekeeper, including helping her to run her car.
Hogg, 64, also claimed for a piano tuner and for work to his stables in the estate, which has a fourteenth century gateway and hall.

A British opposition lawmaker will quit after claiming 1,600£ for a "duck island," the latest embarrassing revelation in an expenses row, his party said Thursday.
Conservative MP Sir Peter Viggers bought the wooden structure for the pond at his home in Hampshire, southern England, according to the Daily Telegraph newspaper.

A millionaire Tory MP was forced to apologise last night for spending £1,471 of taxpayers' money on maintaining a swimming pool on his country estate. James Arbuthnot, chairman of the Commons defence select committee, admitted the claims were a mistake and promised to return the money. Mr Arbuthnot, who is the second son of a baronet, submitted an invoice for a three-month period for 'grass, strim, pool, fuel' which came to £776. Another bill for two months came to £594.

Mr Elliot Morley had claimed for mortgage interest payments of £16,000 - 18 months after the mortgage was paid off. He has apologised and repaid the money, blaming "sloppy accounting".

A Labour backbencher has apologised for submitting an expenses claim for a £5 donation he made at a church service commemorating the Battle of Britain.

Veteran Tory MP Bill Cash reportedly claimed £15,000 in expenses to rent a flat from his daughter, despite owning one which was closer to Parliament.

The Conservative MP for Bromsgrove, Julie Kirkbride has been speaking to the press about why she employed her sister - even though she lives more than 100 miles from the constituency - and allowed her brother to live rent-free in her taxpayer-funded second home.

Andrew Mackay, an aide to David Cameron, has resigned after he and his fellow MP wife claimed on their parliamentary expenses for both of their homes. Mr Mackay became the first person to lose his job over the MPs’ expenses scandal that has been exposed by The Daily Telegraph over the past week. He used his second home allowance to pay almost £12,000 a year in mortgage interest payments on their joint flat near Westminster. Meanwhile his wife, Julie Kirkbride, the Tory MP for Bromsgrove in Worcs, has used her expenses to pay off a similar amount on the loan for their family home in her constituency. Mr MacKay named the family home as his main home while she named the London flat as hers for at least eight years, with the approval of the Commons authorities, and they were able to use public funds to pay for both.

Unfriggenbelievable!

Mission Impossible.....my NHS number

NHS Number: information for patients
Your NHS Number is unique to you and is the only National Unique Patient Identifier, used to help health care staff and service providers match you to your health records. It is an important step towards providing you with safer patient care. Everyone registered with the NHS in England and Wales has their own NHS Number.


(NHS Website)



Family, Friends, Countrymen,





I ran out of my GP's (primary care physicians) office this morning clutching the folded piece of paper in my hand like a lucrative lotto ticket. It has taken 3 months of Sherlock and Watson to get to this precious moment. My degree is in Nursing......once a nurse always a nurse. Hence a major priority for me after moving to the UK with Mr. Jeopardy has been identifying appropriate health care for us both. Mr Jeopardy although extremely smart is a typical man when it comes to health care which means "let's not worry until something deadly happens". When we first got married he had issues with paying two insurance premiums. "Why do we need two insurances? We have mine." Oh the young, the well intentioned and the very naive. Mr. Jeopardy had never been sick let alone developed a chronic illness. He had never seen the victim of a motorcycle accident or a brain aneurysm or cancer in their 20's or 30's who received good care until their primary insurance ran out. The term "exhausted all medical benefits" never meant anything to him before. Of course we as nurses know that cancer, diabetes, a neuro-degenerative disease never waits until you are ready for it at the ripe old age of 101. All of this means that when I asked my beloved about health care in England he replied...."Honey, we have insurance." Mr Jeopardy is part of the naive few who have never been impacted by a health crisis and does not work in health care. Hence, he believes that if needed your insurance company will be there for you willing and able to pay for all necessary tests and treatments. The key word in the aforementioned was necessary and that is the word the insurance companies love to debate. But I digress.....





When I arrived I spent some time speaking with our "EXPAT Relocation Specialists". I was told that we are eligible to receive care under our private health care and to call around to find a physician that is accepting new patients. I was also urged to wait until our yearly trip back to the states to see a physician for check-ups, maintenance visits, medication and dentistry. Wow! How realistic is that? Apparently the folks at Relo Services feel you can optimistically schedule in disease and affliction when it fits your schedule as well! I phoned two practices in our town of Maidenhead and informed them that we were covered by BCBS of Illinois and were the accepting new patients? I will not belabour you with the conversations that followed. Suffice it to say they had not heard of BCBS of Illinois and asked if we had NHS numbers? No,they did not take private insurance and could not refer me to anyone who could.





Luckily for me I ran in to a GP at our gym who told me her practice was accepting new patients but did not believe they accepted patients with private insurance. When I asked her how we as expats went about obtaining a NHS number she confessed did not know. She advised calling the NHS direct line and inquiring with them.





Hah! Has anyone ever tried calling the NHS direct line? Well, in the event that you have not I would liken it to attempting to reach your local cable provider on a Saturday when you are in need of service. Good luck with that! I was not successful with the highly touted but little spoken to NHS Direct Line despite numerous attempts.





I decided to call our Expat Relocation Services again to explain that there were no local practices accepting private insurance patients. How did my husband and I go about obtaining an NHS number? They told me that they would call me back after doing some research. They then called back the next day and told me that according to their research I only needed to register with a local GP. Hmmmm.... ok. Well the next day I went down to the local practice which was accepting new patients. In the midst of all this I had found employment in the UK which meant that we now had two private insurance companies for medical cover but no NHS numbers. I explained to the receptionist that we had two private medical insurances (primo clientel in the United States) and that we would like to register with the practice and obtain NHS numbers as well since apparently that was the key to obtaining care. The receptionist was completely confused and stated that they did not take private medical insurance and an NHS number was needed but she had no idea how to get one for us. She advised calling the NHS direct number or going to their website. Arrrgh!

The following week I was at our company headquarters for a Human Resources Welcome and Review of Policies and Procedures (always a fun filled day). In my new employee class was a gentleman who was a physiologist and who worked for the NHS prior to coming on board. I was elated. Here I had a bona fide ex-NHS employee. Surely he would be able to help me. I explained my predicament and asked how we as American Expats received NHS numbers. He offered the following advice- "I don't know really. Everyone here is just born with one. I suppose if you get into a car accident and are rushed to the Accident and Emergency Room at your local hospital they will give you one. No one is refused care." Ok..... so all I needed to do was have a near fatal injury and taken to the A&E. This chap thinks along the same lines as my husband- let's not worry until something tragic happens. I prefer to plan ahead when it concerns my health and wellness...silly me. I also consulted with my human resources consultant at my company but she had been born in the UK and was not familiar with an American Expat obtaining a National Health Service number. "Have you tried calling the NHS or going to their website?" Yes, I had. "Maybe when you receive your private medical cover you can contact them and they may be able to help you."

National Health Service - Definition
The National Health Service (NHS) is the publicly-funded healthcare system of the United Kingdom. The organisation provides the majority of healthcare in the UK, from general practitioners to Accident and Emergency Departments, long-term healthcare and dentistry.
A particularity of the NHS compared to other public healthcare systems in Continental Europe is that not only does it pay for the health expenses, it also employs the doctors and nurses that provide them, and runs hospitals and clinics.

Feeling very frustrated I decided to share my concerns with my beloved. Normally, I try to protect him from any undue stress but felt that lack of access to health care was a big enough issue to bring to his attention. He listened, I think, it is difficult to tell at times. He asked if I had called our Expat Relo Specialists. Yes, I did twice. He remarked that it was unusual that the local practices did not accept private health care insurance but was confident that all would be well and that I would work it out. Sigh...

Fortunately, I ran into the GP at the gym again who explained a little more in depth about how the NHS and private insurance works. Apparently there are not allot of GP practices that accept private insurance only NHS patients. What makes this more difficult is that you must go to a GP in your "catchment area" or UK zip code. In addition most UK private insurances like my own will not accept consultant or specialist fees unless you were referred by a GP. The vicious circle continues as the GP's in my catchment area require an NHS number. Arrrgh! The good news was that if I ever do obtain the elusive NHS number I would be eligible with my private insurance to see a consultant immediately and not put on a waiting list. I would also have access to a private hospital and perhaps a larger range of treatment options. Everyone in the UK has access to health care through the NHS but access to specialists and treatment options often require a wait. "Perhaps you should speak with Stella our office manager. If anyone knows she would know."

Ahah! A lead! The very next Monday I was down at her local practice and requesting to see Stella. I gave her my most succinct version of events in a now well rehearsed speech and braced for the worst. "Yes, now what you will need to do is register by filling out these forms and we should have your numbers for you in the next week or two. Just check back with us." Eureka! Thank God for Stella keeper of the NHS numbers. As long as we were on an active work visa and gainfully employed at the time of treatment we would be covered and not responsible for health care fees.

I booked an appt for a Hepatitis B booster the following week which is recommended for health care workers or those in close contact with patients. This would be chargeable they explained since it was not medically necessary under the NHS system. No worries as my employer would cover it. I skipped home excited that progress had finally been made.

Finally, today the day of my appointment had arrived. I arrived at the office and was given a number and told to watch the call board for when my number came up. Hmmm.... was this a clue as to how things were going to go? The waiting room was full of patients with their eyes glued to the buzzing light board. My number buzzed and I was off to meet with the nurse after only a 10 minute wait. The nurse shook my hand introduced herself and proceeded to get my background and my reason for wanting a vaccination booster. She went over the pros and cons and advised a blood titer first to avoid an unnecessary allergic reaction. I decided to move ahead with the booster since it had been 15 years and I had previously no allergic reactions. She gave me the booster and asked if I wanted to make an appt to get started with a GP now that I was in the UK. She immediately made me an appointment, told me to come back in two months for a blood titer and to call right away if I had any adverse reactions. She was thorough, professional and did not rush me in the least. I was impressed. I asked her what medications were covered by the NHS. She advised me to check with my local chemist to determine what was covered on the formulary through the NHS. All medications through the NHS cost 6£ or the equivalent of 10$ in the States. Stay tuned for what is approved medication on a Universal Health Care plan. On my way out the receptionist was able to provide me with our NHS numbers to take with me. We were in! We had made it into the system! Whether this was good news or bad news I was not sure but it is what it is for the moment.

Later I proudly gave Mr. Jeopardy his NHS number. He said that he knew I would figure it out and that I worry too much.