St Patrick’s and paws

Apparently everyone in America is Irish. Everyone. Well what other reason would explain them all celebrating St Patrick’s day to such an extent? I went to school wearing normal clothes and not green. Little did I know that you have to wear green on St Patrick’s day or everyone wearing green is allowed to pinch you. luckily my parker jacket is a shade of dark green and so i just kept it on all day. Hamish was the worst off though, he was the only one in his class not wearing green and so he came back home looking pretty glum. He then discovered that he had a green stripe on his socks and so refused to take them off in fear that if he did he would be pinched by leprechauns. This got to the stage where he refused to take them off to get in the shower…

Our accents are still something of a novelty here, I suppose it’s not exactly usual to have Brits living in central Ohio but it does give us plenty to giggle about. You’d have thought the novelty would have worn off after living here for 7 months and yet only last week i was asked to say “charlie bit my finger”, I kid you not, and today a teacher at Lorna’s school, who was french, couldn’t place Lorna’s accent to such an extent that he told her that he had thought she had a mental disability. The whole concept of accent mockery comes from both sides now though, I went into Chipotle with mum over the weekend and so I ordered my food, as usual, in an american accent. She has not stopped taking the mickey of me since. In my defense there is a rather large piece of glass that you have to talk over (and i’m not the tallest of people) and trying to get anyone here to understand the word ‘tomato’ without the accent takes about 10 extra minutes and is not worth the hassle.

Today we added the last piece to our own little american dream and we bought a puppy! It’s Lorna’s 14th birthday in two days so as her present we got a dog. She is an eight week old, cream Shitzu and Maltese cross called Evie. She is so small I can pick her up in just one hand and I can hear her whimpering from her bed as I write this. Only within the last hour was she starting to be more comfortable with us, mum and I were playing with her on the landing rolling a ball at her and then watching as she jumped around chasing it across the floor. She still doesn’t really know how to run, she forgets to use her front legs and ends up pushing herself along the floor or pouncing everywhere. Evie is the last piece of the puzzle of living here, her presence proves to all of us that we’re here now, here to stay for a long while.  


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