Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Begging your pardon

Since returning to the US, I have been told time and time again that I have picked up an English accent. Although this was never my intention and I wish I could swap back instantly to a native Californian accent upon arrival, it doesn't surprise me greatly. There are two reasons for this, at least.
First, my husband is English. Not only that, but he likes the difference of my non-English accent and so enjoys teasing me when I say things like garr-den, Robin Hood, and, as recently as ten minutes ago Ber-nard (instead of Ber-nard). I love my husband dearly, but I hate being teased, and so I have learned to say Robin Hood, though I still pronounce the 'r' in garden, and clearly haven't worked out how to say Bernard.
Which brings me, in a way, to a second thing: my use of British expressions, liked 'worked out' (something we do more in the gym than in our heads here) instead of 'figured out', which is what I would have said in 1999. I confess that that expression is just habit--you hear it enough, and you start to say it. But there are other expressions that are so economical. 'Anything you want washing?' just takes fewer words than 'is there anything you want me to wash?' Of course, now I can't think of another... But sentence construction in general is essential to being understood. So here in the States, I am finding I have to rearrange my words, put them back in American order, and then inflect them properly. Or, hang on, should I say 'correctly' rather than 'properly'? Obviously I have been away too long.
Coming home (sort of--South Bend, IN, isn't Manhattan Beach, CA!), I find it strange that I enjoy things I never really missed. Who would have thought a Notre Dame football game would make me feel at home so profoundly? And NPR. I used to sometimes poke fun at the way topics were presented on programs like 'Fresh Air' (I had already gotten used to the way British journalists interview: no mercy!). But the sound of a familiar voice on the radio is oddly soothing.
I loved living in England, and I expect to return to England when our time at Notre Dame is over. By then, however, I do hope I'll have to remember to say "sorry" when Americans would say "excuse me" or, well, a whole host of other things. I'll probably never sound completely American again (see above re: husband), but I'm not likely ever to forget where I came from.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

The home stretch

By this time next Sunday, we'll be asleep (I hope) in a hotel in Isernia. Between now and then, there's a lot to do: move the rest of our things into storage and clean the house, finish marking and packing up my office, prepare for traveling, and get there. And there's sports day and the concert at the boys' school to attend this week, which can't be missed. (Iain's class are all learning to play the violin. Their performance is exactly what you would expect from 7 year olds who have a 15-minute lesson once a week during term time. Still, you'd think they were all Itzhak Perlman, we're so ridiculously proud of them.)
 
So we are moving on from our house in this little village in northeast England. I expect that there will be plenty of news in the next few months, as we settle in the Midwest and begin homeschooling. Stay tuned.