Homo Domesticus

Yesterdays full English breakfast was something of a treat and I've half a mind to cook another. We did it American style, which just for a change doesn't detract from the Englishness or the Breakfastness. Like the majestic shark, the full English breakfast isn't going to evolve. Its already perfect in its domain.

A quick jog might perk me up right now, but I've just tried a slow jog which was all I could muster in the heat and any more than that may prove to be beyond me. I did my obligatory two-to-three miles, but might check the map to find out really how far it was. Its either the heat, or I'm less fit than I thought, and I'm beginning to suspect the latter.

We managed to buy a USB Bluetooth adapter, so I can transfer pictures from my phone to the laptop. And since I already bought a car charger for the phone, we got a box I can plug the car charger into that plugs into a normal electrical socket so it can be used around the home. More gizmos nailing me firmly to the 21st century.

The jog was delightful, if tiring. I stopped at the gas station and spoke to two motorists about golf. The gas station has a kind of burger bar built in. While jogging back, an old lady told me I should get myself a car. They just aren't used to pedestrians out here.

I keep saying "When in Rome" - I even drunk lite beer. But fitting in isn't about not jogging so much as not wanting to jog. Marking me out as a stranger must be all sorts of mannerisms, speech and diet. But so long as I hang my hat here I'll be proud to call this home, and darn it i've made that hat a NCSU baseball cap.

Pecan Pie

Today we drove out of wake county to see Momma and Jesse. Their place is just great, and for a city slicker like me it seems to sit on the very edge of the middle of nowhere. As it transpires, everywhere is somewhere and the warm southern hospitality of our hosts makes this house somewhere very special indeed.

Jesse grew up around these parts, on acres of local farm and remembers when the whole area was rural, before the modern houses started to be built in the 60's. Jesse makes the best darn pecan pie I'll ever have. Until a hurricane tore it away the other year, they used to pick the pecans fresh from a tree in the garden.
"Jesse had to fight those squirrels for them nuts"
"Yup. I killed those squirrels."

That really wasn't expected. I wonder if it was a joke.

And Momma was a real pleasure. Such a friendly smile and the most delicate and polite person you could ever hope to meet. Perhaps the only thing broader than the sweeping landscape of Johnston is the warmth and hospitality of those who live there.

While a work of art is a slice of the society it came from, A slice of Pecan Pie from a certain house in Johnston county is a work of art that I'll carry away from NC, and the memory of it is already fond.

Felis Domesticus

Mention has to be made of the cats. While a lot has been written on the subject and I am by no means a scholar, the power of web publishing means I feel I do have to have my say. Cats in Blighty tend to be a bit of a nuisance, and make noises at volumes during the night, which has done nothing to raise my overall view of the species.

Introducing Moses, the boss cat. Hes a tabby and the largest of the group. Obviously the leader of the pride he is brave and forthcoming. Next to say hello is Toby, slightly less approaching but just as curious. Toby is black with white paws, and I think a white tummy. Moses can be picked up, not yet by me, while Toby doesn't seem to like it at all.

Sweetpea is next, sweetpea is timid, and scamps away in that feline manner despite having a crippled front paw. She is not as brave as the boys and it took a few days before sweetpea would even approach me.

This brings us finally to Nyssa. The phantom. For days, I was pretty much convinced there were only three cats. When I eventually saw Nyssa she was gone so quick I wondered if I'd imagined her. Two days later I got a photo of Nyssa - it came out blurred. She has yet to show herself again. I am beginning to doubt my own perception.

But this entire trip is becoming a walk along my perception, and even something so simple as a timid cat reflects my own reaction to the strange and new world around me. Perhaps if we were as quick to judge people as we are cats, we might trim away the social apparatif and feast on the person underneath.

Where that feast begins, I could not say. You could spend years getting to know somebody and still not be close enough to tickle them behind the ears with a feather and rub their tummy as they stretch out on the rug.

Sweet Cactus Chicken.

Take one medium cactus leaf, and half a red pepper. Slice them all up for a stirfry, putting the red pepper in first. When its about as soft as the cactus add in the green and about half a vidalia onion.
Slice up a chicken breast and add dried basil and garlic powder. When the onion is just about to brown then get the chicken in.

Fry until done, then tear up half a ball of mozzarella and stir that into the mix. You'll have to be pretty nimble cos otherwise the fried cheese goes all runny. You want lumps. Finish with ground black pepper, serve with French bread and garnish with slices of yellow tomato.

The Vidalia onions are sweet and tangy, more flavoursome that red onions but still quite mild in their own way. The red pepper is red pepper, orange would do just as good. The cactus leaf is sweet and succulant. Its like mangtout beans, fresh and early in the season but with a sticky moisture you can't help but enjoy. You could use a honey glaze on the chicken to really bring out the sweet sensation of the vegetables, or go the other way and use an earthy marinade.

I don't know where to buy a cactus leaf from back home. Not the supermarket, that's for sure. Its the sort of plant, like basil, you can grow in the kitchen - just break off what you need to cook with and enjoy it fresh.

Oscar Myer

I wish I was an Oscar Myer wiener.

Well actually, I don't. Which in itself is telling. But what I wouldn't mind is German Sausage, Italian salad, French mustard, Chinese chicken, Indian rice and ... All those other British things that aren't really British after all.

We define ourselves - the Who - in turn by the Where, What and When of our lives. And all of these things we are in conscious control of, we have power over. You could get up late, or pick up sticks and emigrate at any time, and you might act like a different person but there is one thing that we can't easily change, and we carry with us wherever we go.

How much do we carry with us when all around us changes? You might change the Where, What and Whens and Hows of you life, but you will always be Who you are while you hold on to Why you are.

Exactly how much of this is a conscious definition of self and how much is an apathetic imitation of those around me, I can't say. But I get the feeling even if I embrace the culture here, I may never become an Oscar Myer Wiener.

Yardsticks

Everything you look at out here is different. Foreign and yet familiar. It attacks the senses with a dichotomy of similar and strange. I feel like a stranger in a strange land.

Although Wal-mart is big, in an infinate Tesco kind of way, in its own way its also really small. While its not possible to question the quantity and variety of goods for sale - nor for that matter the quality, so many staples that become part of a supermarket routine are noticable in their lack of presence. Cheese, for example, good fruit and vegetables.

And all the cars are american, and the beer is lite. On one scale its just the same as everything else - yet the differences are apparent if you are looking for them.

Perhaps I measure everything on the wrong scale and I should be looking past these subtle differences, or maybe these details are what comprise the richness of life. Perhaps we do just fear the unknown.

In contrast, there is no thing so comforting as the familiar sound, laughter and conversation of those you love when you phone home.

Clueless

Its another hot morning in Raleigh NC. I'm getting the impression that nobody else is surprised by this. There are clues, like the central A/C, that the local populace know what's going on. In fact, I'm getting the distinct impression I'm the only one who doesn't.

Dehumidifing A/C that had been leaking water onto the carpet, which is a bad thing. Its all been sorted, fixed, cleaned and is drying out in a kind of efficient matter-of-fact way without any harsh sucking-air-through-clenched-teeth or "can't get one of those 'till next week" phrases.

That also sums up the purposefull nature of this little suburban life. This is all about living, not an industry or office in sight, just people living. We were greeted with the same matter-of-fact efficiency in Bo Jangles, the tasty southern fried chicken restraunt. There was efficiency and activity wrapped up in BoJ uniforms, and phrases like "we're just cooooking yer chicken", in stark comparison to the knuckle draggers in Blighty who lumber around waiting for the senior neanderthal to order them back to work.

Its suburban, in a way that I've never experienced before. This is a housing estate, with nearby shops and supermarkets. That's what it is, and it doesn't pretend to be anything else. Its a friendly place. The weather embraces you as you step outside, and it seems that only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.

The great outdoors

Well, I've just has a walk out and about, up to the main road at the end of Pinewinds drive anyway. There are lots of American things here, that may sound daft but its so true its surprising.

Although I only walked up to the bagel diner, I got an appreciation for the heat. I'm used to the temperature being cooler and humidity meaning 'rain' but here these words have meaning. Almost everybody has sunglasses and a hat - and its for practical reasons. Looking cool is now actually about looking like you are less hot.

The Bagel tasted vaguely of turkey and the coffee was 'regular' in both quantity and quality but you've got to try these things. Not as nice as the bagels from the Elephant and Bagel - and a lot further from home to boot but a real American bagel packed with flavour from corner to corner, and a steal at just six bucks for both.

Just outside its a bit like Wisteria Lane, except there are lots of trees. Big tall trees. Pine trees in fact. Its a quiet suburban driveway with houses and gardens, american mailboxes and I'm sure I spotted a white picket fence.

All along I thought this cinematic montage of suburban America existed only in our heads and on our screens. Right now it exists out the window too.

The flight

Gatwick was fine. I had printed my receipt not my voucher for entrance to the execuative lounge, so I had to arm-wrestle the receptionist to let me in. But let me in she did. Fine if you like pretzels and beer, which I do, but really what I wanted was to sleep, so I can adjust myself to US time.

I'm not a great fan of air travel, and doubt I will be in the near future. We had to wait for three hours on the taxiway until the throwers could re-jiggle the baggage because the plane was unbalanced. So an eight hour flight took eleven hours instead, which isn't so bad but you can see why people get impatient about this sort of thing.

The only thing I was nervous about really was jetlag. Apparently it can really effect you, hence trying to get running on NC time before leaving. The cabin crew really helped get my body in the correct rhythms by serving beef and potatoes at 11 am and a mini pizza with half a dozen grapes and four molecules of shortbread at three in the afternoon.
I'll assume thats standard American dining.

I ate my grapefruit on board, because there was a big sign about how dangerous it is to bring fruit into the country. Oddly, you are allowed to bring in fried food.

weblog time

Since I've recently been reluctantly dragged kicking and screaming into the technological age of the 20th century, its time to catch up with 21st century toys too and start a weblog.

Hopefully this won't be a rant, tirade, emotional outburst or impotent whine. It'll just be some stuff I'm writing down while in the US so I don't forget it.