Proper Classy

Say it like this: Prah-pa Clossy. Then you are.

In the spirit of good blogging, I am willing to tell stories that make me look like an idiot in order to entertain you all. You're welcome. This story is set in classy Cornwall.... (cue flashback wavy lines and harps...)

Phyllis and the Cream Tea

Whilst on holiday in Cornwall, I decided it was high time I sat down to a proper English Cream Tea. Finding a cafe advertising said tea, I went in. When I made it to the front of the queue, the cashier lady was down the counter at the till with the previous customer, so I waited patiently like a good British Folk should for her to return. A man behind the counter was in the middle of scooping ice-cream into a blender, when he suddenly looked up and said "You all right there?" That usually equates to "How are you?" or a similar greeting, but the way he said it was more demanding, like I was doing something weird that needed to be addressed. "Yep. Just waiting for my turn to order." "Well?" the man asks impatiently. I guess I was supposed to have assumed that he meant to multi-task by taking my order while he scooped and blended, even though he hadn't said anything or even looked up at me yet.

I ordered the boys some ice cream and a cream tea for myself. I pointed to a row of boxes of tea on display and asked if these were the flavors of tea I could choose from. (They were boxes there for purchase, like, buy the whole box, not these are the flavors we have today. I assumed they were the options I had, the question was more rhetorical.) He stared at me blank-faced for a second then said in a very slow and careful way, "The tea comes with scones, and jam and clotted cream to put on the scones." "Great...(?)" I said, nodding. Then he pointed to the boxes of tea and said, "Which kind of tea would you like? The kinds we have are just over there" (pointing to the boxes I had just asked about.) I refrained from rolling my eyes and shaking my head, picked some tea, and sat down.

I told Jimmy D about the tea man and how he was treating me like I was a very stupid person who didn't understand English. The tea man kept glancing over at me like I was a phenomenon beyond his comprehension. Not in a good way, either. I could understand that if I had actually done something stupid, but I hadn't, so I was kind of bugged. He brought over the tea and scones, and on the saucer was a tiny, light brown sugar cube. I hadn't seen a brown sugar cube before, but assumed it was something trendy or organic or whatnot, dropped it into my teacup, then poured my tea over it. The man, who had been watching me closely from behind the counter in a suspicious way, came over to me and said (loudly) "That's not sugar. That's fudge. I can bring you some sugar if you'd like."

Crap!!!! I wasn't supposed to give him a valid reason to assume I was just another stupid American tourist! Darn you pretentious tea man!!! Why couldn't you have just let me sip my fudgy tea in ignorant bliss! Sigh.

"Oh... well.... no thanks..." I said, fishing my fudge out of my teacup as the entire cafe looked on.

There you go. Proper Classy.

(Note the look of deep concentration on my face. I had to be sure not to do something else to further discredit myself, like spreading jam on my teacup or eating the cream with a spoon or anything.)

Cornucopia O' British-y Fun

Remember me? No? Well, my fault, I guess. I'll hopefully be a better bloggy-pal now since the boys are back in school (woo-hoooo!) but I was looking over another blog of mine and realizing I've made these empty promises before, so I won't fill this one full of well-intentioned lies, too. I have a lot to tell you, so instead of make a long post about one event and then make more empty promises to post about the rest, how about a Cornucopia O' Britishy Fun? Alright then.

*We went on a family vacation to Cornwall. It was rainy a lot and kind of chilly for the beach, but we expected that, so it was still buckets of fun. Buckets. On the beach just down the road from where we were staying they had a contest I've never seen before. No, no, before you even go there, everyone was fully clothed. Come back to me now... out of the gutter... there. They had about 30 numbered stakes in the sand along the shore. Groups of about 4-8-ish people each had around 45 minutes to build a giant sand pile by their stake, and then everyone from the group had to stand on top of it. Then you wait. And wait. Eventually the tide comes in, and if anyone from your sand mound gets wet, your group is out. Last ones standing win. It was about as exciting as it sounds.... "C'mon, Liam, dig faster!" "Go on, Gav, pat that sand down 'round the sides there!" "Here comes one! Oh! 'Bout got yer foot there, eh?" Really, though, it was a great example of Britishy competition. Americans would be too easily bored and give up after the first hour...or two... or three... but the Britishy Folks are amazingly patient and awesome and like their slow-paced fun times. Even when we gave up after a few hours, there were still about 10 groups standing and a whole crowd of eager sand...mound..standing..(?) fans there cheering them on. I love it.

About 2 hrs into the contest:

...and now about 3 hrs in...

*Another Cornwall highlight was Kynance Cove. It's like the Disneyland of beaches, and we had a blast. You have to hike down some cliffs to get there, and it's only there at low tide. Since the sand spends half the time underwater, it is perfect for sand castles. The tide leaves little kiddie-sized pools in the sand behind the big rocks, and the ocean-although freakin' freezin'- has good boogie-boarding waves. You can buy wet-suits, sand toys, and boogie boards in the beach shop, and the whole place is just amazingly beautiful. If you are in Cornwall, go there. Or else. (fist shaking)

*Moving on from our "holiday", Cap'n Jack (our 7-yr old) had a whole day of Culture-Training. (shaking head sadly.) He now is filled with such vital information as the fact that Britishy Folks like to talk about the weather, don't embrace change, and are often found waiting in queues. I don't know how he could have survived life here without that amazing 7 hour course. JimmyD had to do his business-y Culture Training at work, but we weaseled out of the whole Saturday they had scheduled for the entire family session. It would have been a great thing if they had bothered to do it before we moved here, or even within the first month... or two... or three of getting here. So the moral of the story? If they offer you culture training, get them to do it before you go or right after you arrive, or else just laugh at them and tell them you "couldn't be bothered" to do the course, thus showing your Britishy culture skills in your diss.

*The TV Licensing people are after us. We haven't gotten a license since we don't watch live TV, so they keep sending us threatening letters. We might have to get one, I don't really know. They have threatened a few times now to stop by and inspect our TV setup, and I really wish they would, so we would know once and for all if we really have to get the license. (Our TV is hooked up to a computer with all our TV shows, movies, and music on it. I don't know if we could get live TV on our setup.) On the plus side, it makes me feel all edgy and wild to be evading the TV police.

*Stinker has officially decided to refer to tomatoes as to-mah-toes. It was a long and well-thought out decision on his part, and he seems to be pleased with the course he has chosen. He also now refers to "having a turn" as "having a go". Like this: "Mom, can I have a go on the Wii now?"

*Here's a brief overview on shops (stores to us Americans):

-Boots sells beauty products and medicines, not... well... boots.

-Aldi has super-kick-butt-awesome prices on food. Go there.

-Go to the Market (market stalls, sometimes everyday, sometimes weekends, depending on where you live) for your butcher, cheese, and produce.

-Next has such cute little tiny girl clothes and shoes that it is dangerous, but in a good way.

-Marks and Spencers is pricey and posh, but has good quality and inexpensive school uniforms.

-Lush is... well... lush. Ahhh, the hippie-meets-valley-girl goodness of that bath and body store is heavenly.

-Sainsbury's has everything, like a Super Wal-Mart or Super-Target, but not at the same low prices. You can find deals on things like clothes or home supply stuff, but not really on food.

-Argos has what you need for your home and toys for the kids, and my kids can be entertained for hours looking through their ginormous catalogue. Once they are done looking at it you can use it as their booster-seat at the table.

Well, time to pretend to help as JimmyD gets the kids into bed. What? No, I mean... time to get them in bed. I hope the uber-random post I've just given you will fill the void I've left his last month or so, and I plan on doing smaller posts more often. Oh, I did it, there's a potentially empty promise. At least know, if it goes unfulfilled, that I have every intention of keeping it right now. Life (and amazingly slow internet connections) just get in the way sometimes. Until next time, may your oversized car fit into the tiny parking spaces of the Britishy world.