AN ENGLISH GIRL IN BOSTON PART XI

Since living in America, my clothes have been shrinking!  I am not sure whether it is the washer or the dryer but, finally, I had to buy a new wardrobe.  I have also noticed that clothing stores have changed their sizing which means that I have been disqualified from wearing certain brands.  I suppose I may have put on a few pounds but it can’t be much.  When I stand on the scales, it reads….  Ahem!

After several months of marriage, there was the comfortable denial where I felt happy as a newlywed and no longer had to say ‘no’ to all of the delights on offer.  Hubby and I enjoyed going for breakfast on the weekends and, of course, I enjoyed desserts like never before.  But after a year, I could not even squeeze myself into the little dresses from my single nights out, and there was an increasing resemblance to Winnie the Pooh when I wore my low rise jeans and t-shirts.

My problem is that I am a real foodie.  I love cooking, I love eating, and when does socializing not involve nibbles?  But here in the States, it is very easy to be caught off guard and fall into the trap of obesity.  America is the land of chain restaurants!  Presented with a platter big enough for two, I still await the included extras.  There are very few healthy options, particularly at affordable prices, and it is easy to be lulled into a false sense of security when choosing these items from the menu.  Salads are doused in dressings which, more often than not, means that they are less healthy than other choices.  Trans fats are also of great concern, particularly when there are no safeguards against manufacturers or restaurants from using them as a means of enhancing flavor and extending the shelf life of foods.  These processed solid fats are worse than saturated fats as they raise levels of bad cholesterol and lower levels of good cholesterol in the body.  Even labeling is deceiving well-intentioned customers as the Food and Drug Administration allows products containing 0.5g or less of trans fats per serving, to be presented as 0g.  Therefore, recommended limits are being exceeded when customers eat multiple servings of supposedly trans fat free foods.

Once you start to feel as though things are a little out of hand, it is exceptionally hard to stop viewing food as a comfort.  I know that I have used it as such: if it’s cold, I’m in the mood for something hearty; if I am bored, chocolate can distract me for a few minutes; ice cream is the only way to cool down on a hot summer’s day; and cake, well, it’s always a good time for cake.

I have seen my waistband expand over the course of two years and have been on a continuous diet, whether this has actually involved sensible eating or not.  I managed to motivate myself to work out on occasion but this didn’t last.  I completed a four-week boot-camp on Boston Common, I bought the Insanity workout with every intention of doing it, and recently, I started working out with a colleague.  But I know that in order to get that hour-glass back, I have to limit eating out, manage my portion sizes, and go into a gym and work hard to fight the cravings.

Just a few weeks in to my healthier lifestyle, my pants are a little loose, I have more energy, and my confidence is up.  Over Christmas, I did not over-indulge and, with help from my family and friends, I enjoyed all of the traditional offerings without any guilt.  Mince pies, Christmas pudding, stuffing, mulled wine, pastries, cheeses; there was no need for me to make any sacrifices.  For now, I may be stuck in elasticated, high-waisted pants but it won’t be too long before my little black dress is out of the flat-pack.

AN ENGLISH GIRL IN BOSTON PART X

My Thanksgiving feast was a delight to the palate, even if I say so myself.  My guests left feeling full and sleepy, a sign of success.  There were a few issues with defrosting the turkey on time; I even considered calling the Butterball helpline, but it all came together wonderfully.  The extra special touch was my home-made cranberry sauce, made with cranberries collected fresh from the Ocean Spray cranberry bog in Cape Cod.

I have come to really appreciate the Thanksgiving holiday as it requires neither the exchange of presents nor self-indulgent lists, just good food and good company.  With the Holidays off to a mature and grown-up start, I could not help but look forward to Christmas.  Hubby and I were going back to Old England for the first time since my move across the Pond.  By the morning of our departure, I was as excited as a six-year old avoiding bedtime on Christmas Eve.

There is nothing comparable to Christmas at home.  I have been lucky enough to host my parents for the past two years but, being in my childhood home made it all the more sweet.  I was able to meet friends in the pub for a swift pint; sit in sidewalk cafés for hours chatting with my parents; visit family I had not seen in many months; eat and drink traditional favorites; and sleep in my old room.  The week at home flew by and, begrudgingly, I boarded a plane with a promise to return soon.  With the Holidays now over, winter was no longer welcome.

For many, January is a struggle rather than the start of a promising year ahead.  Having enjoyed a long Holiday Season, families have to part, decorations and lights come down, and credit card statements start filling mailboxes.  The dark, cold nights seem that much longer now that the excitement of Christmas has passed.  It is therefore a perfect time to enjoy a getaway and An English Girl in Boston likes to uphold this tradition.  We just returned from a rejuvenating break in New York City where we met with my best friend and her husband, who were visiting from home.

Having previously been a resident of the Big Apple, I know a little about the city, but I am always surprised at how much more I learn with each visit.  The four of us walked many miles, visiting different and distinct neighborhoods around Manhattan and, of course, stopping at my favorite eateries along the way.  One highlight was visiting the 9/11 memorial.  Having worked in downtown New York, this area was always very familiar to me, but the backdrop has now changed dramatically.  The skyscrapers dominate once more, the Freedom Tower sits proudly at full height, and the re-building continues.  Amidst the construction and the bustling streets lies a quiet, secluded area that allows one to pause and to forget the present.  Two waterfalls grace the sites where the twin towers stood, offering visitors a shocking look into the devastation purposefully created in 2001.  The design is both tasteful and moving, allowing visitors to offer their condolences and respect.  Watching each 30 foot waterfall cascade into a large pool, and then disappear into an abyss, powerfully conveys the vast emptiness felt after the terror attacks, and still today.  Oak trees haven been planted around the memorial and, although the leaves had changed color during the autumn, they have not fallen.  The persistence of the leaves to remain, reflects the resilience of New Yorkers in their quest to move on but never forget.

As always, New York afforded me a warm welcome.  Despite the common misconception that people are unfriendly, I must interject.  They are far more friendly than the folks in London and in most other large cities.  Returning to Boston, I now feel ready for the New Year, although I am looking forward to the spring.

As an honorary Bostonian, I want to learn about the city’s rich history.  I have followed the red line around town a few times, as this is a particular favorite with my out-of-town guests, and I have visited many of Fodor’s historical points of interest.  Subsequent to many tours, reading and discussions, there has been one part of its history, however, that seems to be confused and I would like to know if this mistake is widely accepted, or unknown.

Paul Revere is a household name in these parts.  He sits proudly on his horse in the Boston Public Garden and in the North End of Boston, attracting tourists from across the globe.  His famous ride from the North End of Boston across the countryside to warn Congress leaders, Samuel Adams and John Hancock, of the impending British invasion hailed him as a hero and, today, children in schools across the United States are taught of his bravery. “The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere”, a poem of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow published in 1863, describes the gritty adventure in detail and forms the basis for much of the historical teaching.  However, the poem is inaccurate and has subsequently changed the course of history.  

On April 18, 1775, Dr. Joseph Warren, the leader of the Massachusetts Provincial Congress in Boston, learned that British troops were preparing to cross the Charles river.  Accordingly, he sent patriots Paul Revere and William Dawes to Lexington to warn Hancock and Adams that they were at risk of being captured, and then, on to Concord to alert the townsmen that the British were coming to disarm them.  The men took separate routes to avoid risk of both of them being captured, and both made it to Lexington to deliver their warning to the Congressmen who were staying at the home of minister, Jonas Clarke.   They were then joined by Dr. Samuel Prescott, a resident of Concord, who accompanied the men on the next leg of their journey.  On the morning of April 19, a British patrol captured Revere and, although Dawes managed to evade capture, he lost his horse.  Prescott, alone, escaped and rode on to Concord to warn the Patriots there.  

Although Revere was crucial to foiling the plans of the British and his bravery is unquestionable, two other men were also key in the defeat of the British.  But why are these two never mentioned?  Perhaps because Revere was no stranger to riding across the countryside to deliver information as he was an active leader of the ‘mechanics’, a group of men who gathered and shared information that they gleaned from spying on the British in and around Boston.  Incidentally, Revere has been recognized by the Central Intelligence Agency as the creator of the first recorded Patriot intelligence network.  It was Revere who kept detailed accounts of his mission, and he reported the mechanics’ findings that the British were preparing their boats to cross the Charles river.  Understandably, he should therefore be credited as an integral part of the intelligence that led to the patriots’ victory.  But it was Dr. Samuel Prescott who rode to Concord with the warning that the British were coming.  I wonder what answer is expected on a history paper.

Those with whom I have broached the subject have been split in their responses.  Some have had no idea of Revere’s capture whilst others knowingly accept that it is just a part of history that remains vague.  It does not appear to be a secret or a cover-up, however, as the site of his capture can be visited in Minute Man National Park, Lincoln MA and, there is considerable documentation and discussion available.  Whether Longfellow realized the impact that his writings would have or not, “The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere” has been widely accepted as a historical account and Paul Revere remains a national hero, with little known of William Dawes and Dr. Samuel Prescott.

My Style Icons

I love fashion and beauty but, these days, so few of us actually make an effort to dress for occasions.  Many wear jeans or slacks to restaurants and the theater, leaving closets rather unexciting.

As a child, my style icons were Grace Kelly, Audrey Hepburn and Doris Day.  I admired their elaborate gowns, dazzling accessories, and flawless complexions.  I dreamed of, one day, sipping coffee in department stores as couture gowns were modeled for me.  Unfortunately, I am faced with the reality that I have neither the finances nor the figure for the designs that ignited my interest in fashion.  But I also note that the elegance that these women possessed no longer seems to exist.  Of course, Hollywood is still dripping with glamour, but the expectation of glamour has changed.  The class with which Grace Kelly untied her dress to reveal her swimsuit in High Society left me in awe of her sophistication.  Nowadays, however, very little is left to the imagination and glamour is associated with scantily-clad women, revealing as much as they can whilst not committing a wardrobe malfunction.

Today, many designers still impress, however, there is not that same consistency when it comes to their collections, or the celebrities who wear their clothes.  Many seem to grow bored of elegance and seek to push boundaries.  The designers I tend to favor, however, are those who incorporate the dream world into reality, rather than the other way around.  Looking at the intricacies of their work often highlights the genius of their designs.  I love the gowns of Oscar de la Renta, Elie Saab, and Vera Wang, and those that feature lace and feathers; they evoke the happiness of fairytale endings.  Perhaps this is why I chose a wedding gown adorned with ostrich feathers.

When I think of my style icons today, Lauren Conrad’s elegant, effortless and feminine style,  and, Ivanka Trump’s sophisticated, classic style immediately spring to mind.  Their looks are very different, with Ivanka being one of New York City’s most successful businesswomen, and Lauren, being a television personality.  Both have, however, branched into fashion and beauty and have their own lines sold in stores across the U.S.  These designers bring so much more to my closet than most of the items I buy from the over-priced stores on the high street as they are fun, classic and feminine. 

When building your wardrobe, a few classic pieces with a ‘current trend’ item works best.  A great example would be black work pants; a top with a lace feature immediately adds some interest and class.  It is important to compliment what you have already in your closet so that you do not fall into the trap of becoming a fashion victim, who struggles to keep up with the ever-changing collections.  This is where accessories and jewelry can really help.

Beauty is as much about how you comport yourself as it is your actual style.  Striving to be a pin-up will not hail you as a style icon so ensure that the choices you make are ones that you will be proud of.  

AN ENGLISH GIRL IN BOSTON PART IX

Thanksgiving oven (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This Thanksgiving is going to be my first at home.  Hubby and I usually head off somewhere for a romantic getaway but I volunteered to stay at home this year.  I did not think it through fully, however, as an English girl in Boston now finds herself committed to cooking Thanksgiving dinner with all of the trimmings for American guests.  One may understand why there is a little anxiety creeping in; I am not even familiar with the trimmings that my guests will be expecting.

I enjoy cooking, whether following a recipe or straying a little by adding my own twists.  I am not like others in my family, however, who can create marinades and understand how to draw out different flavors.  I was spoiled at home; I ate French food as if in France, Italian food as if in Italy, Thai food as if in Thailand, I think you understand where I am going with this?!  As a result, I have always preferred to eat in rather than to go out.  But, now that I am over 3,000 miles away from such gourmet cuisine, I have to work it out myself or just accept below par standards.  In preparation for my ‘gourmet’ dinner party, I will be researching helpful hints, common mistakes, and maybe even local caterers!

Now that the days are drawing shorter, I am eagerly anticipating the Holidays.  I was off to do a spot of grocery shopping this week and I heard a very familiar sound as I opened my car door.  It was the sound of a bell ringing which, at this time of year, means only one thing.  It took me a moment to work it out but I quickly realized that the Salvation Army had started their Holiday collections.  As early as the stores start belting out Christmas tunes, I can’t help but embrace it all.  Even working in retail, I did not tire of the merriment although, the extended hours were another matter entirely.  Rather than mourn the milder weather, I look to the magic of what is to come; cozy sweaters, fairy lights adorning tree-lined streets, hot toddies, evenings watching Hallmark Christmas movies.  This extended Season should allow for more time to be joyful and giving but, Alas! It seems only to encourage more spending and heightened impatience.  The pre-sales, the gifts with purchases, the one-day sales; all promise the best deals of the season, only to find a more enticing offer the following week.  We need to learn to know when to stop.  The initial high we feel when shopping is short-lived, particularly when our credit card statements arrive and we are faced with the frightening reality of our extravagant habits; that it will take 11 years to pay off just one card if we pay only the minimum each month.

So as you all start planning the months ahead, spend a few weekends away from the mall.  I will heed my own advice and will be spending them confined to my stove.

The Duck Boats Are Coming!

In a year of sorrow, grief and pain, some guys playing a game on a pitch have made the people of Boston smile again, and feel cause for a celebration.  On Wednesday night, the eruption in the stands at Fenway was echoed in every household in New England and beyond, as Uehara struck out Matt Carpenter signifying a 6-1 victory in game 6 of the World Series.  The Red Sox are champions on home turf for the first time in ninety-five years and the ‘curse of the Bambino’ is well and truly forgotten.  Whether the disheveled look was a superstition or an expression of team unity, it worked!

Although I enjoy attending a few baseball games during the summer months, it is mostly to soak up the atmosphere.  I am not an avid baseball fan.  Or at least, I didn’t think I was until game 1 of the World Series.  I was enthralled and, each night, I arranged drinks and snacks around my sofa so that minimum movement was necessary.

Duck boats for the World Series Parade (Photo credit: bndo)

From the very first game, it was visible to all that the Red Sox were playing for each other and for their city.  No one player attempted to outshine the others and their camaraderie was exemplary throughout.  Their on-going tributes to the marathon bombing victims, and the victims’ families highlighted that they understood the importance of their role this Season.  The people of Boston were placing their trust in them, hoping that if victorious, the win would convey the city’s defiance to adversity.  Mayor Menino said the team embodied the “perseverance and resilience” of the city.  This it did, and in true Bostonian style, the celebrations began immediately going on well into Thursday morning.  Menino then tweeted later on Thursday that “The ducks are ready. The fans are ready. Let’s celebrate on Saturday.”  So, in what has become a tradition in Boston, a rolling rally will be held through city streets for fans and players to celebrate together.

I am the first one to say that “it is only a game” but, this year, I did see how much more than just a game it actually is.  As Boston celebrates, millions are expected to congregate in the city, to hail the World Series champions as they pass by on the infamous duck boats.  The parade route will include Boylston Street and cross the marathon finish line; the site of the marathon bombings on April 15, 2013 which killed three people and wounded more than 260.  This tribute will not need words but it will embody the city’s resilience.

“I have to say that God never left his kids alone,… This is a city that we’ve been through a lot of situations. … Sometimes, bad things got to happen for us to get the message. And we got the message. Everybody stayed together, and it showed the whole world that this is the best of every place.”  David Ortiz, MVP

Fall in New England

Have you looked around lately?  Winter is waiting in the sidelines.  Those extra 5 minutes in the morning, nestled in the warmth under my comforter, before I have to set out into the crisp fall air are priceless.  Once the trees are bare, the dark evenings will creep in earlier and earlier and winter’s first snowfall will be imminent.  Although a magical time of year in many ways, most of us do become confined to the indoors.  Fall is the time to enjoy nights out by the campfire, Oktoberfest offerings, all things pumpkin flavored, early football games, and late baseball games, which are more enjoyable this year as we made it to the World Series.

Fall in New England has a worldwide reputation for its spectacular display of autumnal colors.  Every autumn, we enjoy nature’s backdrop and New England attracts those who want to see la pièce de resistance.  ‘Leaf peepers’ are willing to pay elevated airfares and hotel prices, which are double the usual rates.  But why does nature favor these six states?

During spring and summer, the foods necessary for a tree’s growth are manufactured within its leaves.  This process of photosynthesis relies on the absorption of energy from sunlight and so, as the days get shorter and the amount of sunlight diminishes, the leaves’ activity starts shutting down.  The green color disappears; a result of the breakdown of chlorophyll, which reflects the green color of the leaf.  Now the green color disappears, and the yellow, gold and orange colors that have been masked all year become visible and allow the leaves to reveal their fall splendor.

Temperature, sunlight, and water supply all have an influence on the intensity and duration of the colors.  Sunshine and low temperatures, above freezing, promote the formation of anthocyanins, the chemical that produces red leaves, which are common to maple trees.  New England’s Fall, consisting of warm, bright days, chilly nights and late frosts create the perfect conditions for the bright colors that are unique to the region.

Leaf peepers make it their mission to keep up with peak foliage times, during which fall’s display of colors is at its pinnacle.  Accordingly, the interactive fall foliage maps which show estimated peak colors throughout New England can become almost addictive to visitors, who rely on this forecast to plan their adventures.

Tourism is essential to New England, with it being the main source of revenue to the northern States.  Maine draws 9 million fall tourists a year with New Hampshire drawing 8 million visitors.  These leaf-peepers spend more than $300 million in Vermont and $1 billion in New Hampshire.

So, before, the leaves fall, take some time to enjoy nature’s offering.  Unlike those who travel great distances to come to see New England’s fall, you can just hop into the car, pack a picnic and drive.  Heated seat?  Yes please.  Ok, maybe I am not a true New Englander quite yet but I love the Seasons and nature is truly putting on a show.

A MOMENT OF SILENCE FOR BOSTON

Terrorists hope for their legacy to herald them as martyrs and yet they become non-entities. The mere fact that they allow themselves to be brainwashed shows neither strength of character nor courage. When they are spoken of, they are often without name. Do you know any names of the 9/11 bombers? No, we remember only the fallen, the victims; the true heroes whose legacies will live forever.

Never could I have imagined that I would be writing about terrorism in Boston. An English girl in Boston enjoys critiquing the differences between the UK and the US with some light humor interspersed here and there. But this article contains no quips, sarcasm, or light-hearted anecdotes.

On the morning of April 15, 2013, watching the WBZ reporters attempt to keep up with the runners as they slogged their way up Heartbreak Hill was keeping me highly entertained. Marathon Monday is enjoyable for not only those who take part, but also for the crowds that gather in support of their loved ones, and for those at home who wish the exhausted runners on eagerly, as they defeat yet another mile. With Boston hosting the world’s oldest annual marathon, this year was the 117th race and participants from all over the world filled hotel rooms across the city. There was a buzz in the air, with eateries brimming and extended lines in coffee shops. I had just returned from my first trip back to England and was happy to be distracted by all of this excitement.

Sadly, whilst most were celebrating and hopeful, two non-entities were negotiating with the devil. I am not going to recount the tragedy as we all know what happened at 2.50 p.m. on Boylston Street. But, I would like to share the unity and hope that was visible from the second that tragedy struck. First responders and volunteers had no time to be in shock, they were immediately called to attention by the scene that they were witnessing. There was no time to dial for help, no time to check their own injuries or assess the situation to see if there was any risk of further danger, they just delved right in. Even runners who had completed the grueling 24.8 mile race, including military who had carried 40 pound backpacks in honor of their fallen comrades, found new energy to clear fencing and assist the 264 injured. These heroes would ultimately save so many lives.

As news crews turned from light-hearted, celebratory coverage to Breaking News, the entire world watched in disbelief. To many viewers, Boston had not been a known location on the map but they would learn a lot in a short time.

Boston is one of America’s oldest cities. With a rich culture embracing its historical past, it plays host to some of the country’s most significant successes. Home to more than 40 universities, including some of the world’s best educational institutions, there is much innovation, particularly in the fields of medicine and technology. The city is a legal hub, a musical hot spot, and sports continue to dominate. Tourists visit from all over the world, walking through the cobblestone streets.

These are the streets I walk along each weekend, the hotels I stayed in when I was a visitor rather than a resident, the restaurants that I regularly frequent for special occasions, including my recent thirtieth birthday celebrations. But on this day, it was a war zone. War was declared on my peaceful hometown. However, the opposition had already lost, for the love and sacrifice shown subsequent to the bombings shone throughout the nation and resonated across the world.

Martin Richard, Lingzi Lu, and Krystle Campbell were taken from us on Patriot’s Day. Their beautiful innocence was heralded and their names became known worldwide. For their families and friends, no words or actions could ever provide them relief, however, they would soon witness their loved ones being recognized as heroes on every continent.

I will not waste my readers’ time with presumptions or analysis as to how individuals are able to cause harm to innocents in order to avenge wrongs to other innocents. However, hiding away to conceal one’s identity can never be looked upon as martyrdom. Martyrs endure suffering and humiliation, going to great lengths to protect others from harm. I don’t believe any further discussion is required.

As the city attempted to recover, the community began to pay tribute. People came to Back Bay to express their condolences and to show their support for the victims, the city, and the local businesses. Uncertain of what kind of enemy we had encountered, there was some anxiety but the heavy police presence and around the clock news coverage kept the community at ease.

Tragically, another victim, another precious life was lost. But it was due to the courage of MIT Police Officer Sean Collier, that we regained the safe and secure environment that we are blessed to have in our country, for he acted selflessly to protect and serve his city.

Too many have had their lives devastated. But despite their on-going suffering, they have shown such strength of character, being examples to us all. My hometown is undeniably resilient. Its people stand tall in the face of adversity; they stand strong, they stand proud and they stand together.

AN ENGLISH GIRL IN BOSTON PART VIII

One of the things that I enjoy the most here in my adopted land is the changing of the Seasons.  The distinctive characteristics of each month allow us to be able to enjoy life.  We can guarantee picnics in the Spring, beach trips in the Summer, cookouts in the Fall, and skiing in the Winter.  There are not many places where these can be guaranteed without traveling.  This Winter started with Sandy, heightened with Nemo, and closed with Saturn.

The first snow storm brought a great deal of fun to our household.  I had never even driven in snow before so I was happily recounting the drama as it unfolded to family and friends back home, taking minute-by-minute pictures as the snow accumulated.  The first time I had to use a shovel to dig the car from its snowy cave, I playfully threw snowballs, made ‘Charlie’ the snowman and climbed snowbanks.  The tiresome and repetitive activity of clearing the heavy snow made for a fun-packed morning.  As the snow kept on coming through the long Winter, the excitement wore off and, by March, I watched from the kitchen window, with a cup of tea in hand as hubby braved the cold.  I was ready for the first blossoms of Spring.

I have realized that my time is measured by occasions.  Valentine’s Day just signified that Spring is on its way.  Now I await my birthday, and it’s a big’un!  I stand facing the 30 milestone and I’m ok.  Still standing and still smiling.

Birthday candles (Photo credit: synx508)

Having a true sense of self, I feel as though I am more able to appreciate life.  Our teenage years are always so dramatic.  Discoveries, dilemmas, choices, strength of character, weakness.  Little do we know how little we know.  Our twenties grant us our first real taste of independence.  At university we feel we have mastered it until graduation when we realize that we have been in a protective bubble.  We spend the rest of our twenties establishing independence and a career, deciding what we want to do with our lives, looking for our other half, and finding our feet on the economic ladder.  And now, what do I expect from my 30’s?  Another realization that I know absolutely nothing.

I am enjoying the transitions as I discover and uncover so much.  My dread would be staying still, holding onto those things that I have outgrown.  I have refocused my attention towards things which enrich rather than merely entertain.  Travel, rather than dreaming of time away, intellectual conversation rather than mindless gossip, exploring new ideas and opportunities, realizing the dreams that I conjured up whilst in the classroom.

I am a huge fan of celebrations.  Life is so short and time with those whom we love is so limited.  I therefore plan something special each year to share special moments and ensure their special place in our memories.  This year, I have decided to celebrate at home but not in my Boston abode.  In a few weeks, we are off to England.  Announcing my return was more difficult than I expected.  As soon as word spread, I found my time having to be managed.  With over 50 friends and family members to see across England and Wales, I needed calendar management skills to keep my schedule in order.  Naturally, I am taking American goodies home so that I can share the joys that I have come to know and love but it seems that coconut M&Ms and maple syrup are taking the place of my clothes.  At least it means more room for shopping.

As I wait impatiently, I am distracting myself with a trip to the Big Apple.  Did I ever mention that An English Girl in Boston used to be An English Girl in New York?  The plot thickens.  Bring on the celebrations!

AN ENGLISH GIRL IN BOSTON PART VII

christmas 2007 (Photo credit: paparutzi)

The countdown to Christmas began on November 1st. Trees and decorations had been put up overnight and festive music filled malls, stores and City eateries. Just as fast as Christmas appeared, Halloween disappeared. There was no hint of the previous night, with make-shift costume stores looking as though they had been ransacked.

For me, the excitement was growing fast. I was very happy to go along with the premature celebrations because my family was coming over the Atlantic to join hubby and me for the festivities. I had so much planned and I created so many lists; favorite restaurants, favorite stores, tourist attractions, day trips. The brochures, maps and coupons were accumulating into a large pile and my living room was beginning to look like a tourist information office.

We had some time to build up our festive spirit before our guests’ arrival and it started at a secluded, picturesque New Hampshire inn which played host to our Thanksgiving holiday. With a cozy tavern just a stone’s throw away, we were able to enjoy a few too many cocktails and then lay our heads down upon the most comfortable arrangement of plush pillows. Upon my return, I was on a mission to find this same comfort in my own home. Alas! Even after comparing whether the feel of luxury down or memory foam best replicated my night’s sleep, my new pillows were awkwardly suffocating rather than soft and inviting. I digress, back to Thanksgiving. Having spent a long weekend in New York City last year, I was able to enjoy a different side to the holiday this year, away from the crowds and constant distractions. This time away, surrounded by absolute tranquility, afforded me the opportunity to reflect upon things for which I was truly thankful. The Holiday Season was off to a great start!

As always, trying to find parking in Boston almost ruined the next event on our calendar but we made it to the lighting of the Boston Christmas tree. Standing on the Common in the freezing temperatures with thousands all singing really did lift my spirits and warming up in a local bar with a hot toddy reminded me of my old habits in England.

Once I had seen that my parents’ flight had landed, those last few minutes of waiting at the Arrivals Gate were tortuous. I felt an explosion of excitement and, as I eagerly awaited our reunion, I noticed the anticipation visible in all of the faces around me. I would never know their stories or how long they had been apart from their loved ones but nonetheless, we were able to connect with each other at a very special moment, sharing in each other’s’ joy.

The weeks spent with my nearest and dearest certainly made our Holiday Season complete. The joy that my family brought to our home was the best gift I could have ever asked of Santa. I felt like a 6 year old when I awoke on Christmas morning to see my stocking brimming with goodies and the tree overcrowded with parcels. We did exactly what we have always done and what every other British family does each year; overeat, read instructions for new gifts, play a board game and watch a family movie. It seemed a shame to go to bed and leave the festive season behind us, for the next day, we would awake to a world which had eradicated any and every hint of merriment.

 

Colmar – Christmas Markets 2010 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

New Englanders predicted that I would grow tired of the incessant Christmas tunes. To their surprise I was disappointed when the festivities stopped on Christmas day. Christmas back home did seem a lot more festive. Mince pies with cheese, mulled wine, Christmas pudding served with generous helpings of brandy cream and brandy butter, multiple Christmas events to attend, goose, turkey, pheasant, venison, stilton and port, secret Santa, two weeks’ vacation. In my new hometown, it all seems rather low key in contrast. It was a shame to wake up on the 26th to find all traces of the festive season had disappeared. Retailers take advantage of us all and we say nothing if, in fact, we notice at all. Prior to all of the observed Holidays, they maintain a charade with only one interest and, when no more money can be squeezed from promotions and hype, the next occasion is greedily pursued. In the UK, the pecuniary interest is the same but Christmas remains a focus until the 6th January. This allows for people to relax, enjoy time off, visit family and reflect on the true meaning of the holiday.

New Year was not the normal anti-climax; paying ridiculous all inclusive entry fees only to be crammed into an over-crowded bar like a sardine. As if having your new outfit constantly spilled upon by eager patrons fighting to be served to get their money’s worth of drinks isn’t bad enough, at the end of the night, there is the long and frustrating wait to find an available cab home which results in flared tempers, ruined shoes and the onset of a cold, the following day. This year, we enjoyed a dinner dance which went on past midnight. So often, I feel like Cinderella with establishments ending the night as soon as the clock strikes twelve, but this New Year was different and the dancing went on well into the wee hours, creating many wonderful memories.

So, as the Season drew to an end, so too did my time with my nearest and dearest but, I could not complain. The weeks together had been a true blessing and I felt so refreshed. We saw new sights, explored new towns, laughed a lot, ate some lobster, enjoyed some of mum’s home-made cuisine, laughed some more, played Bingo, danced the night away and, as you can imagine, the dry British humor kept us all smiling, even as we pushed the car uphill on Route 9 in a blizzard.