A (Humorous) Taste of the Locals Around Where I Live (and a few pics)
I’ve had guests from the US this past week which has meant a load of entertaining, cooking, making beds, etc. – hence very little time to write. I’m also off for a short holiday with the hubs, so I’m posting a day early . . .
But I’ve wanted to share a little insight into my life here in Northern England (sidenote – any thing north of London, which actually is more south in England if you look at a map, is considered ‘The North’ – right.)
I live in Sheffield, one of the larger but lesser known cities in the UK. Sheffield, however, has a village mentality meaning that different areas feel like a smaller village though they mesh together to form Sheffield.
I live in an area where grandmother/mother/daughter all went to the same primary school (elementary school) built in the late 1800’s – many folks around here haven’t left and don’t plan to anytime in their lifetime. It has its pros and cons of culture and, of course, being Americans, our family doesn’t exactly blend in.
I often go to the local shops five minutes from my house, and at least once a fortnight (ooh look at me being so Brit using the word ‘fortnight’), I get asked the same question, ‘You not from ’round ‘ere are you luv? Canadian or American?
I reply with the usual, ‘You mean I haven’t pulled off the Yorkshire accent yet? American, moved here from Texas.’
And then I get asked if I know their friend of a friend who lived in Oklahoma, or if I’ve been to New York or Florida – the only places folks around here have visited if they have traveled to America. (Yes, been to both and born in Florida).
About a month ago my son celebrated his birthday. We have a family tradition that on your birthday you can pick any restaurant for your b-day meal. He chose a local yocal your-clothes-will-smell-like-fried-food-the-rest-of-the-day restaurant.
So after my family ate a good hardy English fry-up (eggs, thick bacon, beans, sausage, tomatoes, mushrooms, toast and tea), I took a few pics of signage around my stomping grounds . . . please enjoy.
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