Month: November 2021 (Page 1 of 2)

“Did you hear that?”

I am not the only one to have heard the “Growler”, who creeps up in your ear. Friends, family and even a few guests have heard his bear groan!
I will admit I did play a prank on my Irish friend Eoin, once. After a party one evening I told him the story of the “Growler” and he got the “heeby jeebies”. As he walked up the driveway to his car I snuck up behind him and growled in his ear and I could have sworn he jumped out of his skin and soiled his underpants.

I did laugh.

But, getting back to the “Growler”…. I am not 100% sure who or what it is. A friend who senses spirits, said she felt an angry native man outside. Which is interesting because on a occasion I have posted pictures, innocently, of the dogs on Facebook and everyone commented that they could see a Native American in the reflection. I did not see this even after it was pointed out to me.

Could we have a Native American Spirit?

My first interaction with the “Growler” happened on one summers afternoon. I sat on the front porch with an old friend, chatting about life and jobs, long before Covid hit. I remember the day being so humid but we sat there on the high top tables with our backs to the cabin wall. As we spoke, from out of nowhere, I heard a big growl in my left ear. I looked around wondering if one of the dogs was on the porch with us but they were all safely inside. I turned to my friend and said “Did you hear that?”, to which she replied “No” and then continued to ask what it was that I had heard. We carried on talking for a few more minutes and then came the growling noise again from right behind us. We both turned to one another immediately and she said “I heard that!!!”. We quickly got up and came inside the house. Locking the door behind us.

A few weeks went by and best friend Karri and I, were outside grilling chicken. I told Karri about my recent encounter with the “Growler” but she is always very skeptical of that kind of thing. At the time, the deck had not been built so the Weber grill was on the front pathway. I stood on the front porch while Karri went down the steps and wandered over towards the grill to flip the chicken. As Karri neared the grill I heard the big growl again and Karri jumped up, span around and said “Did you hear that?!?” to which I replied… “YEAAAAP!” and we both ran back into the house. Still since that day, neither of us can explain the “Growler”.

Karri is now a believer.

I know I have not told you about my experience as a teenager yet. It’s coming!!! Only a handful of people know about this, so going public is a big deal. I cannot help but wonder if there is a connection to the “Growler”. Although I think he warrants a better name. Let’s call him “Fred”. From this day hence forth we have dubbed thee “Growler”, “Fred”….

The closest image I have found, to date, of what my friend and I encountered 18 years ago!

Tune in on Friday when I tell you about (probably) the most scariest day of my life and more about Fred and Emily!

Sleep tight……

If you think you saw a ghost, it was probably just “Emily”.

I have always said “You couldn’t make this sh*t up” when it comes to talking about my life. Everything always seems like something from a movie or Discovery channel documentary.

It didn’t take long to discover that there was something different about the cabin when we purchased it four years ago.
Before we could even move in, we had about two months of renovations to complete before it was even livable. In fact, the entire house was pretty much gutted. Renovations are still on going today, but in the beginning it was pretty chaotic. We had an entire team of painters, contractors, flooring layers and electricians in here during the day and night. It was a 24 hour operation. Walls were removed and replaced. Electrics were fixed and redone. The house was repainted and carpeted inside (I took on the task of repainting the outside later that summer- another story of battling wasps and other wildlife!). So you can only imagine it wasn’t just dust and spider webs that were stirred up.

The cabin was 20 years old when we closed on it. Built by the previous owner and not really maintained or updated since completed. So to cut a long story short, there was a lot more work to do than we first envisioned! HGTV makes it look very easy! Where was Chip and Joanna when you needed them?!?!

In the beginning things seemed fairly quiet. Our friends helped us tear the place up during the demo weekend! Pieces of panel board and old tiles were everywhere. We took out an entire 20 ft dumpster in one weekend. After the place was emptied and the real renovations began, we started to hear stories from the contractors. Tales of shadows walking across the master bedroom, caught in the corner of our project manager – Joe’s eye. Weird growling noises in the painter’s ears and foot steps across the floorboards when no one else was working in the house. Our project manager’s son ran out of the property at 6am as he heard someone walking upstairs when he was the only one here. But the best story came from our friend Ryan who was doing the rewiring and replacements. Ryan liked to work at night when the other contractors weren’t here. He would put on his country music and just get cracking on running the wires and switches. One night he cut his work night short. After his radio kept being turned off he began to get an eerie feeling and called his girlfriend to come for moral support. During the phone call, the call kept dropping despite having full signal. After he started to hear footsteps upstairs, he decided to bail until his girlfriend could come keep him company. The weird foot steps and electrical interruptions kept occurring.

And then we met “Emily”…

With our move in date just days away, there was so much still left to be completed before we could move in. We knew that the big renovations still needed to be done over time but finishing baseboards, trims etc needed to be completed by the contractors before we gave them final payment. One evening I started to take photos of the house to email to our project manager so that we could make a list of the things that needed to be finished before we moved in. I started snapping shots of unfinished base boards, flooring, paint touch ups and window trims. We didn’t have any stairs at the time, so I stood on the only step safe to stand on and snapped a photo of the window in the kitchen area. It was missing a piece of trim. Unfortunately the contractors decided to throw up dry wall on a wall that didn’t require it and didn’t replace the window trim that was damaged. When I took the photo we did not have electricity running in the house.

That evening I put together an email with all the photos to send to Joe. After sending it I went into my sent items to just double check I didn’t miss anything. I opened up the email and turned up my brightness. All of a sudden my tongue fell into my small intestine and a cold chill passed over my body. It was at that moment, I realized I had just purchased a house with a (un)live in tenant.

When you see it, feel free to shudder.

I did. There Emily stood in all her white dress Victorian glory.

About 30 minutes after sending the email Joe called me and I remember the opening line to the phone call very vividly. “You are ****ing messing with me!?”… Oh I wish Joe, Oh I wish I was!

Now there are plenty of stories I can tell you about Emily. Like the time she stood over our friend Kelly in bed and screamed at her when she stayed the weekend. The time she exploded a pendant light during a party. Or the time I was home alone taking a video of the cabin to send to my parents back home, only to catch a glimpse of a figure walking across the back window. It will take you a few times to see it, but when you do, you cannot un-see it.

Look in the left hand window, for the shadow that passes across the door.

I will definitely be sharing many more stories about Emily over the coming months. I found out some history about the land and why Emily (and friends – YES FRIENDS) may be here!

In fact there have been 3 or 4 spirit friends at the property.


“The bearded moonshiner”

“The unhappy native”

and “The growler”.

“The Growler” will warrant several blogs of his own. I cannot help but feel he has some connection to something scary and insane that happened to my best friend and I when we were 14, while sitting on top of the garden shed. You see how scary and interesting this all just got?

So, I guess I can put the question to you. What do you want to hear about first? More tales of Emily, “The growler” or my close encounter with what I believe was the “Owl man”? Yes…. no joke. The Owl man. Anyway, comment and let me know!

Millie Fundraiser update

I’d like to thank you for your orders from the IT’S A HARD MUTT LIFE SHOP! We Managed to raise $96.11 to go towards Millie’s medical costs! If you didn’t read about Millie here is the link to my blog about her from last week!

I’d love to raise some more funds, so have now extended the fundraiser until December 16th!

20% of all proceeds go towards Millie’s surgery and medical costs!

I have now updated the store with some cute Christmas festive items! Hoodies, blankets etc! Go check them out! Our pet items also launched today too!

Maybe you’d prefer a mug? Or a fuzzy wuzzy blanket for you and your fur babies to snuggle up in?

Grab yours before they are discontinued!!! I will be keeping you posted periodically on Millie’s progress!


A celebration of giving thanks, friends, family and especially food……..

It’s a known fact that as we grow older, our families become smaller and smaller. Our time with those we love is certainly precious and limited. Appreciating those around us, such as family and friends and being grateful for what we have should be something we give thanks to everyday. With our busy lives and hectic schedules, it’s easy to lose track of those we hold most dear or those who we struggle to check in on as often as we should. For me, Thanksgiving is a day to sit back and remember to do that. Amidst the extravagant table spread, the week long preparations of turkey brining, cake baking and casserole coverings, it is a day to remember to be thankful for those WHO we have and WHAT we have around us. Thanksgiving for me, as a “Brit” seems like any typical Sunday afternoon, surrounded by the family or straggling friends, taking turns to cook the traditional Sunday roast. Stuffing our bellies until we must succumb to that wonderful food coma that we sleep off in a saggy backed arm chair. The premise of Thanksgiving and our traditional Sunday roast seem similar, however, what lurks upon a traditional Thanksgiving plate tells another tale.

Turkey, it’s all about the turkey. So much can go wrong, but if done correctly you may be rewarded with a moist, succulent and flavorful bird worthy of any royal banquet! The turkey may take time and precise perfection but she is the least of our worries. It’s what will surround the turkey upon that plate that I concern myself with.

MARSHMALLOWS. At what point did someone decide that marshmallows belong on the same plate as a yam or sweet potato? I highly doubt that the local Patuxet tribe whipped out a bag of Jet-puffs* and suggested to mix them with the nutritious vegetables. Through my curiosity and confusion of this concoction, I discovered that we must thank the maker of Cracker Jacks for this invention. A decade after mass producing marshmallows, they approached the Boston cooking school magazine to assist in getting their marshmallows into the homes of every American, by popularizing recipes that used their product. Recipe books and magazines were very popular at the time. After a recipe featuring mashed sweet potatoes topped with marshmallows was published, for most people marshmallows won and become a popular dish during the holiday season. Unfortunately, I still am yet to appreciate this dish. There are only so many circumstances in which salty and sweet may share the same plate.

Salted caramel.

Syrup and bacon.

Kettle corn.

Digestive biscuits and laughing cow cheese.

For me that’s about it. I will admit the color it brings to the table however, is picturesque.

This year, after tending to the farm and the animals in my care, I spent thanksgiving surrounded by delicious casseroles and a juicy turkey! Good company and good conversation. An American casserole is very different to those that I am used to. A casserole for me is a one pot oven dinner, consisting of a meat and several vegetables, stock and a bay leaf. Cooked for a few hours on a low heat and ready to enjoy after a hard days work. Casseroles here usually consist of a vegetable, a can of condensed mushroom or chicken soup and topped with cornflakes or fake crispy onions. Again an interesting concoction of colors, consistencies and flavors. Some delicious, some heavy and some not so much. HOWEVER it is a day of traditions and being thankful for what we have. I am thankful for having the opportunity to sit with loved ones and friends around a table in the warmth. When so many are not as fortunate.

After a delicious, non-marshmalled (by request) dinner and a selection of holiday deserts, I returned home to continue taking care of the critters. This year I had many friends and clients dogs to take care of over Thanksgiving. The morning was spent tiring them out, giving medications and tending to my own animals so that I could at least get to enjoy a Thanksgiving lunch for a few hours.

After lunch I returned home to continue playtime but soon felt that dreaded food coma catching up with me. After being outside for a few hours with the dogs, playing chase and picking up their “daily presents” my eyelids began to feel exceptionally heavy. I came upstairs to find Julian, Percy, Becky J and Evie had beaten me to the couches and had already begun their Thanksgiving siesta without me.

“A quick nap,” I thought to myself wouldn’t hurt “I’ll just lay down next to Percy and close my eyes for a moments”. AND that is what I did, until my 4.30pm alarm went off but 15 minutes later to start feeding everyone. I had to get up and leave this little boy, snuggled up looking so innocent and precious.

Like most large feasts, one of the many benefits are of course – left overs. I certainly plan on indulging in some of those today!!!Hopefully I will get to have a bit of extra snuggle time with this guy this evening. Well that’s if he stops taking all of the ornaments off of the Christmas tree and lays down (his new favorite game).

I hope you all had an amazing Thanksgiving 2021!

My right or die.

My first car in the US! Fifi the frog!

When I moved to the USA, one of the things I was most worried about was driving on the opposite side of the road. You don’t realize how much your brain is programed to look a certain way when you take a turn or cross a road until you are handed the keys to a car where the steering wheel is on the opposite side of the vehicle!

I truly thought there would be ample public transport and I would have no need for a car. How wrong was I!? Once I got my drivers license set up, I rushed to Carmax to buy my first car. I was so excited to have freedom again, after depending on everyone else for months. After signing the papers and getting the key, I walked to the car and got in the passenger side. This is something I still do, until I realize the steering wheel is in front of the other seat! “Ooops, let’s try that again shall we?” I said to myself, realizing I looked very silly. I started the car and off I drove!

Now most people would opt for a more popular color i.e. black, white or silver. Not I! I wanted something bright and eye catching, so that everyone could see me coming!!!! BRIGHT GREEN! I’m not sure who should have been more terrified of the fact I was in control of a vehicle, other motorists or myself!? I found myself chanting the same mantra during every journey, “Keep them on the left..” which just meant to make sure the median or other traffic were always on my left hand side. The amount of times I took a left hand turn and ended up facing oncoming traffic was terrible. Months went by and I was successfully navigating my way to my frequented destinations. As long as there wasn’t a diversion I was pretty comfortable getting to the grocery store, work or the mall.

Now I think I am a pretty good driver. My road awareness is pretty sharp, however my road rage is stereo-typically British. Unfortunately my version of verbal road abuse doesn’t really have the same effect here as it does back home. I remember a few years ago I called a crazy lady who cut me up 6 times on the main road into Charlotte a “complete tosser!”. Now If I had said that to someone back home, they’d have been offended. Here? Not even a flinch. Let’s be fair, we don’t really cut many people up on the roads back home, because half of them are too narrow to get one car down, let alone two! Regardless, calling someone an “Absolute W*nker” or any other fantastic British insult would certainly cause another driver to reconsider their driving actions. Not here…. it is ignored and repeated.

Driving on the highway is terrifying for a first timer. You better be sure you know exactly what exit you are taking and have had a lot of experience playing Tetris as a kid. As you merge off right to exit (opposite to the UK) , you better be ready! The exit is typically about 20 ft after the entrance onto the highway. So as you merge off, you are weaving in and out of cars merging on at high speeds. There is no move over rule or give space, it’s all a game of who can whip in first and who can fit in where. Typically I take an immodium before any long highway journey. Every time I have to get off the highway on to another, it’s a game of touching cloth.

If you are not familiar with the British term of “touching cloth” I have included an educational link.

I think I have mastered driving on the right side of the road. Seven years in and I am still going well. I will admit, I have converted my GPS to a British accent. I was getting fed up of being told to turn right at the circle. It’s a roundabout!!!! It may be circular but it is definitely called a roundabout. I feel however, these are a newcomer to American roads because I am yet to meet someone who knows how to use them. Blinkers are a thing of the past! It’s another guessing game as to which direction someone is taking! No wonder it’s not uncommon to see a car driving down the road without a hood or bumper. Years of playing Diddy Kong racing prepared me for the American roads!!!

There are some positives to driving in America. Gas station snacks are pretty interesting, you would never pick up a quart size cup of boiled peanuts or a pretty decent BBQ sandwich at a BP back home! Now, I have not been back home in seven years, the pandemic did not help with that but I am embarrassed to admit, I am a little worried about getting back there and renting a car! It’s taken my brain years to reprogram, I can only imagine the havoc I am going to cause pulling out of London Heathrow onto the M25! But at least I’ll understand the insults!

We are furmily! pt 2


My 5 year old Standard Poodle. If you aren’t a poodle fan, after meeting Julian, you probably will be. This dog changed my career, he boosted my confidence, and he certainly keeps me on my toes.
Julian was a client’s dog who could no longer keep him. I took him on around one year old. He became my creative muse. He has been colored like candy corn for Halloween, shaved into Christmas canes, sported a mohawk, a “fro” and even a goatee! There are just endless possible haircuts when it comes to a poodle! His stomach issues however are another story. After many tests, I discovered Julian has a motility issue with digestion. So, his royal highness requires special dehydrated food, that resembles baby mush (once water is added), for his stomach to digest it properly. He’s a character. I have many stories to share about him! Like the time he ran after a herd of deer or the time he ate some female sanitary items thus I thought he had puked up a dead mouse at 3am.


Evie, the Australian Shepherd is a rescue. My friends took her after she had been bred excessively and was living in vile conditions in a barn. When they took her in, they quickly found out that she literally didn’t know how to “dog”. Her stomach dragged along the floor, from being bred back-to-back for money. Her coat was a disaster and she didn’t know how to bark, walk on a leash or even want to snuggle. She hid under the bed night and day. Scared of life! With some training, positive reinforcement, lots of carpet cleanups and some patience, she started barking 11 months ago and has not stopped since. Evie wants to snuggle so much now, that “being inside you” is not close enough. Personal space is not her strong suit! Nearly 6 years in, she is at about 85% dog capacity.

Becky J

My little “butt monkey”… This name has an interesting explanation. To me, she resembles a Macaque monkey. You know the ones that sit in the hot springs in Japan? Yeah that’s her. The “Butt” portion of her name (in person) is pretty obvious. She has a lot of junk in her trunk…. Her butt hole is pretty prominent. However, it goes a lot deeper than that…. Pretty sure this dog passes gas like a human. Every time she jumps on to the couch or the bed, she toots. But then turns her head and looks at me, as if to say “Was that you or me?”. She’s funny. I am pretty certain she is on the spectrum. She is very sensitive to lotion smells, lights and sensations. There is not a bad bone in her body but she is often over stimulated by different sensations that I am pretty sure she would give the “Good doctor” a run for his money!


Is my newest edition. He was found on the side of the road crawling out of some bushes. When I found him he was bow legged, full of worms and could fit in the palm of my hand. I bottle fed him for a few days and got him strong again! I almost did not keep him but he became my little buddy. He follows me around, flops over my shoulder when I work on the computer and he panics when he doesn’t know where I am! He loves snuggling up to Becky J (until she farts) and he enjoys stealing my pens and receipts during admin or blogging days. When most people said “Oh my goodness – not another animal!” I just felt he completed the home and balanced the energy in the house! I mean c’mon, what is a red headed lady without a red cat? It was meant to be!

The flock

The Ducks: John Cryer, Jemima Puddle duck and Daphne and the hens: Matilda, Michelle, Lucy, Sandy and Penelope. These guys have been more of a hobby than anything. I was hoping that I could sell their eggs in order to pay for their supplies. Unfortunately, because I spoil them and take them to the vet the second I see that something is wrong with them, I think I am currently in negative egg-quity! I have realized that I am not a farmer. I love my critters far too much!

Merch for Millie!

Some of you have seen that I launched a small merchandise store today! My main plan for the merch store is to help support my family of critters but also help me give back to those in need.


Remember the charity that I mentioned in my first article? South Charlotte Dog rescue? I support the work they do! South Charlotte Dog Rescue (SCDR) is a non-profit, no-kill, foster only, dog rescue organization serving the South Charlotte, NC area. SCDR has observed a great need in our community to provide care and love for the unwanted, homeless, neglected and abused animals we so often see. They are dedicated to rescuing dogs left homeless for whatever reason.

Their mission is to rescue & rehabilitate these precious animals & then place the right dog, in the right home, at the right time through adoption! They place dogs in loving, responsible, committed, permanent homes, following a comprehensive adoption process which includes taking considerable care in finding good matches and educating prospective adopters about the responsibilities and costs of bringing a dog into their homes and lives. Without the help of the public and volunteers they could not do what they do! Becky J was rescued by SCDR and I helped foster other puppies from her litter. Without them I would not have my precious “Butt monkey”!

Muddy Millie

Last Saturday I finally got to meet Millie! A 5 and half month Golden retriever who was surrendered as her previous owner/breeder noticed there was something wrong with her. Millie has a little problem with her plumbing. O.k it’s a pretty big problem. She has zero control over her bladder. She was born with an ectopic urethra. Unfortunately, not only is this surgery very expensive, but many surgeons in the area will not operate on her as it is a very complicated surgery. She is awaiting a surgery date from NC state but not only do we need to raise the funds to cover her consultation and surgery (meanwhile more medical cases flood in around the holidays) but her expenses keep racking up. The consultation is $2000-3000 alone. This little lady is just the SWEETEST! She was the most mellow and calm Golden I think I have ever met! Until she is fixed she cannot be re-homed.

Anyway, with the launch of my merch shop this week, I wanted to let you all know that between now and November 28th I will be donating 20% of the proceeds to Millie’s medical fund through SCDR. So please if you can, grab a mug, a hoodie or even a t-shirt! Not only will you be supporting my blog and my family of furries and featheries , but you will be helping cover Millie’s surgery and medical costs!

I look forward to updating you on how much we have raised on November 29th!!!!

“We are Furmily, I got all the critters with me!”

Right to left: Julian, Becky J and Evie

Some of the inspiration behind my stories, relies heavily on my collection of critters.

Three dogs, a kitten, 3 ducks and 5 chickens, all share my home and hard earned money.

Some days I wake up and think to myself – it would be so nice to not wake up to a 43lb Great Pyrenees chow chow mix, jumping on my chest like she is hunting rodents in the snow like an artic fox. I open my eyes to her big floppy face glancing over me (in very close proximity) and realize that I am needed, I am wanted and my life has a purpose! That purpose may be very monotonous and consist mainly of feeding, vacuuming, picking up poop and attending vet appointments but it’s a purpose in its own right! The unconditional love I get from “most” of them (not so much the chickens) is priceless.


It was at a young age that I discovered a love for animals. In fact, my favorite hymn as a child was “All creatures great and small”. O.k, I’ll admit I think that maybe the only hymn I know or remember but none the less, I loved them no matter how great or how small they may be!

I remember Sunday evenings consisted of one of Mum’s Sandwich buffets and being called down to watch David Attenborough’s wildlife programs on BBC1. That was often closely followed by the “Antiques roadshow” but I often made an escape from the living room once I heard the introductory music! BORING! Although now I find myself wandering around antique shops looking for interesting items that smell of my Grandparents closet.


I remember being fascinated by the vast array of species, colors (there goes that spell check again, telling me to remove the “U” from “colour”) sounds and habitats of the animals. Needless to say it was my passion! My Grandad would often take me to London for the day on the train to visit the museum of Natural History. There I would wander through Darwin’s collections of creatures and insects and notations. As a child this was fascinating to me!

I don’t think I have ever experienced a time without owning a pet. I am sure many of you can agree that the house is too quiet without the pitter patter of feet running down the hallway, or the infamous sound of someone rustling in a cupboard they shouldn’t be! They definitely keep you on your toes!

The three Ladies

So as I settle into the log cabin, (where most people would be saving up for a cruise or planning a family) I find myself building a home and a “furmily” of misfits and missed messes!

I’d like to introduce you to the pack this week and give you a little insight into their background as I am sure I will have many stories about them over the coming months!

Oh and I also I have a special fun announcement coming soon!

“I don’t come from a land down under.”

     I was contemplating what my Friday blog should be about. I could talk all day about dogs, ducks, chickens and the fact that I believe that mixing fruit with peanut butter is a complete abomination, but as I sit here listening to good ol’ Nina Simone, (sipping on a very generous pear martini) I thought I’d talk about the elephant in the room….

The fact that I am British and I do have a British accent. Or at least I did.

Jazz and blues music always seems to get my creative juices flowing or maybe it’s the martini, who knows?

 The last seven years in America has been a whirlwind. It’s taken a long time to get used to the lifestyle over here. Driving on the other side of the road. I can deposit money in a drive thru ( we don’t have drive thru banks in the U.K) The fact you cannot buy one portion of vegetables, it’s always a family pack that goes all gooey after 24 hours in the refrigerator. Plasters are called band aids and water is called “wah-derr”.

When I first arrived in America, my accent was very thick and “proper”. Fresh off the boat! I felt like a celebrity talking to everyone that I encountered. I’d often get asked the same questions:

“When did you move here?”

“What made you move here?”

“Is London still the capital?”  … yes….. someone also asked me “London, that’s part of the U.K right? Next to Russia…” I’ll be honest, she was so sure of herself that I didn’t have the heart to correct her. I’ll let her have that one.

As time went on, the novelty of sounding different began to wear off. I found myself needing to allow  30-45 minutes extra just when getting groceries. I knew the second I was asked for my VIC number or if I “found everything I needed to today”, it was game over. I would usually be hit with the comment: “Oh my god I love your accent! Is it real?” or “are you Irish?”……. in fact, let me write you a list of the most commonly asked questions or comments us brits get:

  1. Oh my god. I love your accent, I could listen to you talk all day.
  2. Are you Irish or Australian?
  3. Can you please say “Ello Guvnah” for me? I want to send it to my boyfriend.
  4. Oh my gosh- you are British?
  5. Do you still drive on the wrong side of the road here? – (LIKE WHAT!!!!!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!? DO YOU THINK I’D BE STANDING HERE?)
  6. Have you ever met the Queen? (Yeah every Sunday for brunch and croquet)
  7. What do you think about Harry and Megan?
  8. Is it true they don’t have a President in the U.K?
  9. I’d love to go to London one day, I always watch British TV shows, have you seen Faulty Towers?
  10.  __________________________________________*awkward silence as they don’t understand a single word I’m saying.

Oooh I actually thought of the best one, that actually leaves me quite offended. “You sound so funny!” *Stares back at cashier wide eyed*

Driving down the A23 to Brighton U.K

All I’m saying is, if you are British, you get it. If you are not, just remember that when you meet an Englishman, a Scottish man or Irishman (we probably won’t be walking into a bar together – another common mistake…) try to come up with something unique to ask us. That’s if you REALLY have to comment about our accent at all. If in doubt, talk about the weather. But in all seriousness, remember you sound weird as hell to us too. How did that beautiful, eloquent and poetic language turn in to:

American                             English

“Wah-der”                        “water” pronounced “War-ter”

“Dawg”                               “Dog” pronounced “Dog”

“Bahl”                                  “Ball” pronounced “Bawl”

And don’t even get me started on the fact “y’all” dropped letters from words!

Colour became color. Grey became gray.  Behaviour became behavior. Like what is the issue with the letter “u”?   you also have a problem with the letter “S”, you just had to swap it for a “Z”. For ex. Emphasize used to be emphasise. No wonder half of my friends on Facebook think I’m dyslexic. Microsoft word spell check just crashes when I start writing a letter. it probably thinks “Holy hell there is no helping this woman!”. It actually just dawned on me that maybe why my news feed often advertises “Learn English with Duo Lingo” ads.

So not only do I not know how to communicate in English anymore, but I find myself constantly and unconsciously changing my accent when I go into stores, so that I can be understood better, or maybe so that no one asks me anything personal. I didn’t realise (ooops I meant realize) how much my accent has actually changed. I have picked up on many of the southern inflections, so much so, when I phone home, my friends and family say I have an Australian twang now.

I guess that explains question no.2 (see above hahaha).

“Life Finds A Way.” – “Jeff Goldplume” Pt 2

“Episode: The one where the chicken crossed the road”

“Jeff Goldplume”

Welcome back to the story of Jeff Goldplume. The significance of this name will become apparent very shortly. I need to set the scene for this one…..

After discovering that I had 15 VERY vocal Roosters on my property, I needed to act quickly to re home them! I posted them on local Facebook sites and contacted friends with farms. “How hard must it be to re home free fluffy chickens?” I said to myself. Weeks went by and not single bite. Things started to become serious. I began googling how to humanely cull chickens. After watching at least half a dozen, very detailed, tutorials on YouTube, I was now pretty certain that there was absolutely no way that I was going to be able to sacrifice them.

I had a few roosters that stood out in the crowd:

“Rodolfo” was a very tall and friendly male, “Jeff Goldplume” who was the most aggressive but pretty Rooster. Named after Jeff Goldblum because he had bright golden flecks through his plumage. “Speckles”, and “Freddie” who was a black frizzle silkie, named after Freddie Mercury as he looked like he was electrocuted.

Aside from those named above, I could barely tell the difference between the rest of them. Thankfully I managed to take 10 of the boys to a local waterfowl rescue, who kindly took them! But I still had 5 left stranded behind. I kept the prettiest boys in the hope that I would be more successful in finding homes for them.

Remember “Barb” who i mentioned previously? Well Barb adopted “Rodolfo”! He moved in with some bigger ladies and a Duck. “Speckles” moved in to a client’s house and had an entire harem of new wives!

Ok, so now I am down to just 3 Roosters:
“Freddie”, “Chicken with no name” and the notorious “Jeff bloody Goldplume”.
Jeff and I had a love hate relationship. Every time that I would go into the coop, he’d charge at me! I had to learn how to stand up to an 8 inch tall chicken. My friends would laugh as I argued with Jeff every day. He was just a stubborn ***hole! In the middle of summer I couldn’t go in there with out my wellington boots on because I am pretty sure he would sever my toes.

Out of the blue a friend contacted me on social media, (we’ll call him “Ron”) and said he knew someone that might take the remaining roosters! He reassured me that if she was unable to, he would cull them and cook them. I was so relieved! Ok- i’ll admit, also a bit said that they may meet a bloody end but that’s kind of part of real farming I told myself. I didn’t want to start getting fertilized eggs and if they didn’t go in the next week, that was likely to happen. So Ron and another friend of mine, (let’s call him Todd) came along one afternoon with a crate and collected the three little Roosters to meet their fate.

Ron told me that the lady didn’t get back to him so he and Todd were going to do the “man thing” and cook them. Ron also informed me that he grew up on a farm so it really wouldn’t be a big deal, he had done it 100 times! So with that being said, they packed them into the crate and off they drove. I had finally re homed all 15 roosters (remember that). No more roosters!!!!

I went about my business, fed my remaining ladies for the next few days in blissful silence. Then one sunny afternoon I started receiving messages on my phone. One after another. Each one was the same screen shot titled “Is this your chicken?”…….

I opened up the screen shot and who else could it be, posted directly from the Animal control page, but Jeff bloody Goldplume!!!!!!!!!!

“Bex have you lost one of your chickens?” or “Do you want another chicken?” they all asked. Issue was Jeff was so unique looking there was absolutely no denying that was my chicken! It was literally like a mug shot. My instant reaction ….. “No, not my chicken!!!!” …. I had to slap myself…. “Bex!!!! What are you saying – that’s Jeff!? I thought to myself, feeling so guilty. Then it dawned on me, Jeff was supposed to be dead, cooked, slathered in barbecue sauce or on a skewer along side a pepper and couple of zucchini slices.

I immediately picked up the phone and text “Todd”…..

‘I’m going to kill you!!!!!!!!”

Text to “Todd”

It took a little while to get a reply, but finally Todd called me and after a few seconds of silence calmly said “Why?”.

“Because my bloody chicken is currently impounded at the local animal control and they are trying to find his owner!!!”
Todd erupted into laughter. I asked him “What happened? I thought you were going to kill him?!”

Well I think what happened is that Ron and Todd “chickened” out…..

Turns out Jeff Goldplume was too much for them to handle and made a quick getaway! Not sure where he was trying to get to, as he was about 9 miles away, but a member of the public saw him crossing the road heading back towards home!

Knowing that he was probably lost. They kindly dropped him to the local animal control and they began looking for his owners ….
( now named “Ron and Todd” ).

Lesson learnt: Never trust a guy who says he grew up on a farm.

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