Month: September 2017

Five things you may not see on your school run.

The highlight of this month has been leaving the 19th Century cottage and moving into our ultra modern, state of the art home in Otterbourne, a village outside of Winchester.

 

No, just kidding! No such thing exists here folks! There is a blog post ruminating in my head dedicated solely to the joys of modern English living.  Tentative titles: “Life Without Closets”, “The House of a Hundred Ugly Light Fixtures” or “WTF do you mean I have to empty water out of the dryer?”. But I digress….

 

The real highlight is the new school run.  The “school run” is the bane of the modern mothers’ existence. Okay, perhaps two dads, but this is clearly a gendered role. It is the 15-30 minutes of the day in which we drive children to and from school/bus stop. The drive is actually the easy part; the challenge of the school run is getting said children out of bed, clean(ish), dressed, fed and in the car without losing your god damn mind. Getting yourself dressed and presentable is completely optional. Every day it is a race against time and sanity. Every. Single. Day. A few minutes past the magic time you know you can leave by and still make it before the bell rings can turn even the most modest mum into a Formula One driver.

 

From the cottage, the school run was 45 minutes in one direction, 400 roundabouts and generally speaking –  misery. From our new home, the school is only 14 minutes in one direction (7.7 miles). But is a school run like I have never seen because we are living in the English countryside. Hampshire county is made up of loads of small interconnected villages and towns,  loads of green countryside and narrow roads.

There are a few different routes to get to the school but the one I love the most includes a very old single lane for last 2 miles. Most of these finds are from that road.

Thatched Roof Cottage

These gems are hidden throughout Hampshire.  Google tells me that thatch (tightly packed straw, heather, water reed) was the only roofing material available in the countryside until the late 1800s. And just like taking a lobster sandwich in your school lunch in Nova Scotia back in the day, a thatched roof house became a sign of poverty, but today are highly sought after and a symbol of wealth (rich people took bologna sandwiches by the way).

Covered Bridges

These are all over the place and many of them have train lines above them.  This covered bridge fits one car with sharp turns on either side of it. The whole road is single car capacity with many “laybys” you pull into for two cars to pass safely. There are some rules of the English road I have learned, e.g. a flash of high beams from an oncoming car means “you go first”. Drivers here are incredibly courteous and when you let a car go ahead of you there is a mandatory “thank you” wave of the hand. I love it, reminds me of the east coast.

Sheep

Yes sheep, there are lots of them, it’s England.  The kids and I often roll down the windows and listen to them bleat when we drive by and give them a holla (when we are not in a hurry…as in only after school). This one sheep is looking right at us.  Other animals we see not pictured: horses, cows, deer, partridges.

 

Pleasantry

This truck below is trimming down the hedge. The man driving it is about 80 years old.  He puts a sign out ahead of him saying “Tree Trimming Ahead” and then this homemade sign on the back “Sorry for Delay”. Even in Canada where we apologize for everything I have never seen an apology sign on road equipment before.  It’s so English.  Polite.  Lovely. Kind. Proper.

The Hot Mess Mom

This one is common sight in North America but less so over here.  I go for the unwashed and unkept look.  I also sport bright colors which is not part of the mum uniform over here.  My one friend pointed this out to me as the three North American mums where wearing hot pink and orange at school pick up, the rest in a sea of greys, browns, navy and black.

 

Allie and Aiden are also now taking the mini bus to school (except on Tuesday because the bus is full??), but I still pick Allie up at 11:40 and Aiden at 4:30. Yes, I put my three year old little girl on the school bus.  She loves it.  The school bus driver Mr. H is about 70, wears a sports jacket, tie and sweater vest and he personally walks her to the nursery and she loves him. And I love him a little bit as well.

Feeling like a Dowager, Acting like a Lady

I was a late arrival to the Downton Abby club. My mother was the first to mention it, then my own Dowager Aunt Peggy had a Sunday night ladies group watching it. When I finally caught on I was kicking myself for being late to the party.  The series sucked me in like no other show has done in a long time and maybe since. I got totally engulfed into the characters’ lives and time period.  I binged on it like a fat kid on cake.

When I figured out our new home was only one hour from Highclere Castle and that there was a garden party in September, I went digging for my credit card.   Costumes from the 1920s were encouraged; however, I went for traditional garden party dress and hat, which I made Andrew pick up at John Lewis Department Store last minute. Go figure this is England, you can hire a hat for your event, but I was a bit late getting that sorted.

I drove to the town of Newbury last Sunday morning in the rain (in my now manual transmission VW Gulf rental, turns out a manual is £25/day versus £45/day automatic).  There is quite real crescendo leading up to the castle, slowly criss-crossing up hills, fields of sheep until you make a turn and like magic the castle can be seen in the distance.  I cried when I saw it – tears of pure joy! It speaks to me about what an effect the show had on me, I was so freaking excited, the British might say it was blinding.

For your £120, you got a tour of the castle, a picnic lunch, access to all the grounds, a little group social with 1920s dance lessons and a word from current castle owners, The Earl and Countess of Carnarvon.  Inside the castle is identical to the set – the red velvet couch in the sitting room, the desk his Lordship used, the dining room, the staircase, the smoking room for after dinner, the servants’ staircase but sadly, no photography inside the castle.  When I walked into Lady Cybil’s bedroom, it was totally raw and emotional. Lady Mary’s bedroom, the one with all the action, was filmed in the studio.

On travelling alone, I am really lucky that I am pretty comfortable travelling alone. Actually, more than comfortable I actually like it.  Perhaps from being on only child or from being a mom now and just craving a few moments all to myself, when nobody needs me. It’s liberating and I really try not to feel guilty about it.  Now that said, this castle would have been a blast to walk through with mom or Aunt Peg, or my kinder mom friend Katie, and many others.  So lucky I got to go.

Amongst a slew of Downton groupies, it was easy to make friends. I met two American couples who readily admitted to posing as Canadians on their trip (for obvious reasons…). You can tell by their photograph they were fun (spelling out OHIO, for Ohio State University where they met).  They have the blog name I hope they read this!  Nan, Brian, Geoff (?) and (I forget….see next paragraph re: my age!) it was great fun meeting you.

My 40th birthday is coming soon on September 23, but this is the last I am going to speak of it because head’s up, I am skipping it. I really want to be with my tribe back in Edmonton.  My friend Danielle shares my birthday and we should be having a huge party and wrestling Mike Tyson’s Tiger in true The Hangover style, but it is not happening this year. The timing is not right.

My main job right now, like millions of women before me, is making sure the children are okay, setting up house and supporting my husband in his new job. I can’t really take off to Vegas or walking tour of Italy and feel great about it. The traditional roles of men and women have not really evolved that much from Downton Abby times, have they? Oh, except I do not have a ladies made, I rarely get dressed for breakfast and I am currently the nanny, cook, and chauffeur. 40 is a big one and I intend on celebrating at a later date. Stay tuned, you may get an invite.

 

 

Note: Turns out writing something thoughtful for the blog takes time but is challenging me.  I did make a video though quickly on my iphone for fun.  We are moving out of the cottage tomorrow and into our rental home near Winchester, hallelujah! I wanted to get this post up tonight as I am not sure when we will have wifi again.

How to spend £1300 on British Prep School Uniforms?

 

 

It has been six weeks since my family and I moved to the UK. I am finally sitting down to start my blog. I am not sure it will be good, funny or even long lasting, only time will tell. It certainly will not be perfect and I will learn as a go (setting up was a trickier than I planned!). Aiden started school this week and we are still living in our temporary accommodation at Seaview Cottage, Fawley, UK and really anxious to get settled in our permanent accommodation. Things seem to move slowly here…..husband says it is a bit like Glace Bay, Cape Breton.

We have the privilege of sending the children to a private school whilst here in the UK. I wanted to tell the world about getting the school uniforms together, which is less about school uniforms and more about some of the madness in moving overseas.

We settled on Stroud School as it seemed to be the warmest and less formal of the schools we visited. Nonetheless it has a uniform for both kids: Aiden in Year 3 and Allie in the Nursery. The uniform lists for both kids included no less than 85 items, I kid you not. There are the everyday uniforms and the sports uniforms or sports kit, which for Aiden will be football (aka: soccer), swimming and rugby.  Cricket and field hockey uniforms are later. The number of items I cannot even identify is close to fifty percent and I basically ignored it for a few weeks: legionnaire sun hat, velco plimsolls, swimming costume, pinafore, wellie socks, Mistral jacket, gum shield, rucksack, trainers and scrum hat (which thankfully is optional, because I still have no idea what that hat is). Take a look for yourself: https://www.stroud-kes.org.uk/admissions/uniform

 

Thinking that it would be easier to go in person to the uniform shop was the driver for going to the seaside town of Bournemouth for a few nights with the kids.  You know – try on the clothes, figure out the UK sizing, purchase all 85 items in one fell swoop versus going to fifty shops. However, that would assume that the uniform shop actually had a clue and inventory, which were big assumptions on my part.

 

When we turned up I am still optimistic as we are assigned our very own lovely teenage salesgirl named Beth who grabs a binder, basket and looks keen.  I explain that we are new here, need everything and essentially want five of each of the day to day uniform. Beth comes back to the dressing room with one shirt for Aiden, which is too small. I reiterate in my nice Canadian way that we are new to the school, have nothing on the list and we need everything on the list, and suggest maybe she could bring two sizes of the items at one time, for both kids.  She comes back with one more shirt for Aiden. It fits and I say, “Great, I’ll take five!”.  It is at this point Beth goes to the stockroom, which seems to be located possibly on a different planet and tells me that is: “Out of stock”.

 

This goes on for about another hour with the stockroom trips getting longer and longer while the kids slowly turn into Children of the Corn and I am in a hot puddle of sweat and rage, until I grab the basket as is and beeline to the cash.  Another name I considered for my inaugural blog post was: How I nearly went to jail for killing Beth. For £300, we came home with one pair of trousers, two different sized PE shorts (for the same kid), one dress, one pinafore, two blouses, four different kinds of jackets, a kit bag, and a water bottle and in the end – I ORDERED THE REST OF THE SHIT ONLINE.  £1000 later, we still have a few items to purchase.

 

Like the uniforms, many other things required to get settled are just as complicated. Some days it feels like nothing is easy, e.g.:

  • I need a physical card reader machine sent from the bank to do any electronic transfer online- for security reasons.
  • You need the seller’s and buyer’s real estate agents to view a property, there are no key boxes (possible employment strategy).
  • Paying to park at the grocery store or mall, paying for shopping trolleys, paying to pee at the train station.
  • Four trips to the Post Office, three sets of passport photos and still no ID card for miss Allie Bear.
  • Possible 45 roundabouts on the current school run from Fawley to Romsey, four times a day (this will be much better when we get our house..).
  • A disturbing lack of Starbucks drive throughs and Vietnamese nail salons.

 

But I digress.  We are learning to laugh about it and coming to expect things to be bit a bit more complicated. Aiden survived his first day of school and on day two I forgot the track suit and water bottle, of course, and was late. On his first day, he was up before 7:00AM asking for his uniform and tied his own shoes. I was so proud of him – this is his third new school in three years so lots of mom guilt here.  Allie starts the nursery next week after her mandatory transitioning sessions (see, nothing is straightforward).

 

Note: I tried to italicize some of my new English language. Please do not think I’m a poser for using it so soon but really you must if you want to communicate with people here.  If you ask someone for a bathroom you will get the raised eyebrow or strange look. It’s a toilet here, possibly a loo, with toilet roll not toilet paper and you may have to pay 25p to use it.