Goodbye Salsa, Hello Lemon Pickle

16 October
It’s 8 p.m. here and ah the long long hours of daylight you all still have left to play in.

Apologies for the significant pause in between blogs. There’s been a lot on my mind. But first off the good news is that Heather is healthy and so is baby James (and the rest of the crew). And that C’s dad had a successful surgery yesterday. A lot of relief on this side of the Atlantic.

Made spinach dal, basmati rice and besan pancakes (which are pancakes made from chickpea flour mixed with spices, garlic, veggies, cilantro, and ginger). We’ve discovered that our standby for a cheap and quick dinner, Mexican food, is really not much of an option here. Corn tortillas do not seem to exist on this island …. The only ones we did find had wheat in them, were 8 to a pack and cost the equivalent of $3.50! Ah, the long gone days of a pack of 25 corn tortillas for under $1. Latin America seems far away. So the new ethnic will be Indian. Goodbye salsa, hello lemon pickle. Other random and strangely expensive items include all paper products (after all they deforested centuries ago, I suppose … take that as a warning America), prunes (why do dried plums cost $10/lbs here?), peanut butter (it’s just not their thing), beer (I know, what’s that about?), mid-range wine (nary a California cab to be found), rice (again, huh?), nuts in general, tofu, steel-cut oats (pin-oats here) …. However, surprisingly and refreshingly lower priced are things like vegan margarine, soy yogurt, gluten-free corn pasta, crackers (oat cakes, ryvita), rice milk, hummus, potatoes, canned tomatoes….

It’s a month that we’ve been here. Seems both shorter and longer. I’ve gotten used to the tiny cars (it’s not so much the size—although when you see a camper smaller than a tahoe, it’s pretty stunning--it’s that they are ALL small), the shapes of the row houses, the narrow streets, and I even look right first when I cross the street. The accents are many and varied and I am mostly used to hearing and deciphering them. The only ones that give much trouble are the thick Welsh and thick Scottish. The more subtle things are coming into play now—like knowing when a presentation, meeting, or event is over … I am bad at that sort of thing to begin with so between my cluelessness of “get the hell out of here” signals and the very gentle and polite way that Brits seem to let things trail off to nothing … I might be hanging on well past my welcome for a few months to come.

Saturday morning: Well, his is certainly not the most entertaining or enlightening of blogs, but the main reason for it was to notify that there are several new albums of photos of Swansea on my facebook page (which I think all of you are on). I will just have to promise more sharp wit, insight, and searing social commentary in the future. For now I return to a few more minutes of 19th century novel (I’ve read three Nathanial West books in a row now and just had to take a breather between Miss Lonelyhearts and Day of the Locust) before I get myself back to work on my own. Perhaps a walk toward Black Pill today and the lure of this weekend’s Cider Festival ….. Love you all.