Random Thoughts and Impressions

My Sunday roast at The Woodman was absolutely scrumptious. It's beyond me how anyone can still levy that old criticism about British cooking, especially when I know I can get a decent vegetarian meal almost anywhere in England and yet in the US I'm lucky to find the unimaginative veggieburger on the menu. The vegetarian roast was a mushroom Wellington in a flaky puff pastry with tomato/chestnut sauce, roasted herb potatoes, parsnip puree, perfectly cooked medley of cauliflower/broccoli/peas and carrots, and a Yorkshire pudding. I will definitely be returning to try the other vegetarian options before heading home.

The local parks seem to be full of free-range dogs of every type. These happy little critters run to and fro with their legs pumping and tails wagging, sniffing everything in sight, splashing into the water's edge, chasing birds, and greeting each other and strollers with abandon. It amazes me to see them all getting along, never wandering too far from their people who call them back with a soft word. My experience with dogs in the States hasn't always been a happy one and it seems dogs in our parks are required to be restrained unless supervised at a special dog park or dog run. Even then, there often seems to be a fuss among the dogs. Are dogs in the UK trained differently? Is it that they are trained at all and we generally don't spend much time teaching our dogs manners?

When I first started visiting NC it took some adjusting to how friendly strangers are-people wave as you drive by, smile and nod or greet you as you pass on the sidewalk. These are not things you do in NY unless you know each other. Four years living in NC and I realize I have become one of those strangers who wave and greet people. However, that doesn't always translate very successfully here. Women have been more inclined to respond to my greeting than men, and I've gotten a few surprised smiles and a couple of brief exchanges. Walking through the park I've noticed people will engage when I comment on their dogs, and other 'dog people' acknowledge each other.

Overheard at a shop window, a 3-4 year old little girl's sing song voice, "Mummy, may I have a tutu please?"

I see my mom in so many faces here. Her pale grey/blue eyes, her light freckled skin. And I see my uncles in many of the men who pass me on the street. Maybe genetic memory is responsible for my strong attachment to England. While I always identify as a New Yorker (and so did Mom), I think my heart is in New York, but my soul is in England.