Anyone who has a blog with Google "Blogger" can investigate their vital statistics. This is something that I do from time to time. In fact, today's post builds on a similar blogpost I published back in November of last year.
As you know, this blog is
churned out lovingly transmitted from England's premier county - Yorkshire. One would expect that most Yorkshire Pudding visitors might hail from The United Kingdom and indeed for the first ten years of this humble blog's existence that was always the case. However, in the past twelve months American visitors have very much been in the ascendancy. Last month there were 4850 visitors from The United Kingdom but 9726 from The United States. Double the number of British visitors.
As I admitted last November, I am an unashamed Americophile and this remains the case in spite of Trump, in spite of school shootings, in spite of climate change deniers, in spite of Walmart and Bible bashers and the huge divide between rich and poor. I love America and recall with great affection the happy times I have spent there. America is such a big country with so many facets, so much variety, so many fine people. Forget the stereotypes.
It is easy to think of Jennifer in her South Carolina home, tapping away at her keyboard waiting for "The Fish Guy" to return and it is easy to think of Mr Brague in his neat Georgia house reading his favoured blogs and writing his erudite comments while replying to Ellie in the kitchen - "I'll be through soon honey!" And it remains easy to think of Jan Blawat in Sloughhouse, California, raising her prize poultry and fiercely maintaining her independence.
But that's just three of the 9726 Americans. What about the others? The ones who never comment.
A big shout out to Hank in Melville, Montana and all the guys and gals who get down to "Bill's Place" on a Saturday night. Hank has got a cabin by Sweet Grass Creek where he lives with his dog Ronald and enough guns to overthrow a banana republic. Life has been hard for Hank since Judy left him and since ranching in central Montana fell upon hard times. Hi there Hank! How ye doin' buddy?
|WD Ranch, Montana where Hank used to work|
And another huge "hello" to Kelly-Ann Schwartz in Red Hook, Brooklyn where she shares a spacious post-industrial warehouse apartment with her partner. Kelly-Ann works in upper Manhattan at an advertising agency, servicing various Chinese clients including Huawei. After a long session on the treadmill at her local gym, she likes nothing better than a large glass of Chardonnay and a visit to "Yorkshire Pudding" on her tablet. Hiya Kelly-Ann! Thanks for your support babe!
Down in Miami Beach most weekends, tiny fingers move hesitantly over a keyboard. They belong to a Scottish American who happens to be the most powerful man in the world. Enduring a stressful workaday existence in the full glare of the world's media, DJ fires out a few angry tweets before settling down to peruse his favourite blogs. "Yorkshire Pudding" takes him away from daily pressures even though he doesn't understand many of the big words. Hello DJ my friend! Take it easy old man!
With all of you American visitors, I am now considering dressing like the average American guy - leather cowboy boots, silver spurs, a stetson hat, chequered shirt and Levi jeans. Does anybody know where I can purchase chewing tobacco? I may also consider writing "sidewalk" when I mean "pavement" or "footpath" - and "trunk" when I really mean "boot" with reference to cars.
God Bless America!
Sorry, my first comment didn't come out the way I heard it in my head! Having trouble thinking properly this week. I'll go in a different direction instead. You're absolutely right that stereotypes don't tell the whole story, not even close. Every person is unique. Even Canadians. HahaReplyDelete
You have gone a step too far with your last remark Jenny!Delete
I've heard about your favorite words and that you might change! Well I'm waiting. To tell you the truth I always have to think when I see boot written and if It was spoken I don't know what I'd do. My daughter is an American. I meet all kinds of very nice people through her.ReplyDelete
I have forgotten where exactly your American daughter lives. Is it Red Hook? Red Bluff? Red Bay? Or maybe Red Lick, Texas?Delete
There has been so much negative here in the US particularly since the last presidential election. Add that to the increase in the number of mass shootings and the divide you mentioned between the rich and the poor not to mention many other current issues and you have a country full of many worried people. I wonder if possibly some Americans are subconsciously turning to UK blogs in a search for much of what we have lost. Don't get me wrong, I am proud to be an American and I know most of the people in this country are truly good people. I just think many of us are seeing some disturbing changes these days.ReplyDelete
I sense that too. America's old confidence and certainty have been rocked.Delete
I wonder if Jennifer wears cowboy boots and a Stetson!ReplyDelete
Lady Americans wear gingham dresses and red shoes. They are good at baking apple or cherry pies and say things like "Gee!" and "Oh my gosh!" I am sure that Mary Moon, Jennifer or Bonnie will confirm these facts Kylie.Delete
Oh my gosh! I always wear gingham dresses and red shoes! How did you know? Now I'm off to take the apple pie out of the oven. Hee haw, y'all.Delete
Well, you know, Mr. P., we don't have "Ladies". That's a title only given out in your country. We don't have "Lords" either. We are all just hardscrabblin', self-confident, good-hearted individuals who all pull ourselves up by our bootstraps so often that sometimes the bootstraps just snap right in two! And of course, all of us base our wardrobes on the costumes in the Wizard of Oz. As we women get older we slowly move from the gingham dress to the more sensible aproned outfit of Aunty Em along with sensible shoes, good for walking the dusty miles to the general store or slopping the pigs. But yes, about the pies you are correct. We are ALL excellent cherry and apple pie bakers. It's in our very DNA.Delete
Jennifer - Don't forget to warm Gregg's slippers for him and hug him when he comes home from work.Delete
Mary Moon - Thank you for confirming the accuracy of my portrait and for enhancing it. Now, scuttle off to the kitchen honeypie to bake that special meatloaf for Mr Glen.
I had one of the captcha login tests to prove I'm not a robot. It said to click on all the pictures containing crosswalks. Didn't know what they meant. Failed. I'm either a robot or not American.ReplyDelete
I have been to your blog and seen your profile picture. No you are not a robot Tasker. You are a ghost from another age.Delete
Maybe I should change the blog name.Delete
While I am from the US, I'm a bit of a US/UK mutt having been born to a War Bride Brit and an American. Moved to UK when I was two and stayed for most of my childhood and early teens with a stint in Germany, too. I get back as often as I am able. Having grown up with plenty of UK relatives, I have absolutely no problem with translations of things such as boot or pavement. Still use plenty of them myself--though asking someone 'when they want to be knocked up' can get you into trouble here. Though I did live in TX one year (not a fave place as there were too many tornadoes that year), not to mention several other US states, I do not wear cowboy boots, red gingham dresses and don't own a gun. Retired now from decades of refugee work--sadly being undone by the orange idiot in the WH, I live just half a mile from the western shores of the largest estuary in the US. I'll let you figure that one out. Enjoy reading your blog.ReplyDelete
Largest estuary in America? Would that be Chesapeake Bay? I have never been there. I guess there's a lot of water and a lot of mud. Thanks for calling by Mary and can you feel me giving you a big virtual pat on the back for giving so much of your life to refugees? Genuinely admirable.Delete
Yes, the Chesapeake Bay. Lots of water and wildlife, boats of all types, especially sailboats, and large ship traffic up and down the middle as Baltimore, near the northern end, has a large port. The southern end of the Bay joins the Atlantic Ocean. Quite beautiful in many places, despite pollution, and quite treacherous, especially during storms.Delete
Thank you for the virtual pat. I was the fortunate one. Refugees taught me so much.
I feel your pain. I have been on the verge for several months now of adopting English-style spelling (honourable, manoeuvre, theatre) and punctuation (putting periods and commas outside quotation marks, abandoning double apostrophes for single ones) but so far I have not been able to bring myself to do it.ReplyDelete
I do not own guns (although my father had three when we lived in Texas) but I do wear gingham dresses and red shoes. I'm kidding. Since I live in Georgia, if I did wear gingham dresses it would always be over hoop skirts. All the people here in Georgia think ante-bellum thoughts all the time and don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' babies. I thought you would want to know.
My father's three guns were a pistol (.38 caliber), a .22 rifle, and a 12-gauge shotgun. And that's the truth. All the Texans called him Yankee in an endearing sort of way as he was from Iowa and said "yes, mom" instead of "yes, ma'am" like everyone else.
Perhaps your dwindling British readers know something we don't.
I hadn't considered your last point...and now I am feeling rather upset because, as you know, I am a sensitive kind of chap. Is an ante-bellum thought a rude one? Oh and did your dad have the guns to keep his tearaway son in check?Delete
Until the second Gulf War, my home town was full of Americans - military people and their families, mostly. They had their own town just outside of Ludwigsburg, called Pattonville. In most larger shops around Ludwigsburg, US Dollars were accepted. You saw nearly as many American cars on the streets of Ludwigsburg as German ones, and as teenage girls, we gaped at the athletic figures and "LOOK AT ME!" outfits worn by many of the (mostly) black soldiers in their spare time.ReplyDelete
Then it all ended when this particular military unit was pulled back home, and for a while, Pattonville became a bit of a ghost town. Now it is alive again, and has been renovated and built up to make room for our growing town.
Sometimes I feel a bout of nostalgia. The German-American co-existence wasn't always easy, but it resulted in many lifelong friendships and quite a few marriages (such as one of my cousin's). It was a different era, it really was.
I must say that I never expected that memory Meike. I guess your cousin lives over in America now...in which state? I wonder how much she misses Lovely Ludwigsburg. Or maybe the American guy chose to stay in Germany.Delete
They first lived in Maryland (his home) and now are somewhere in the South, Arizona I think. Sadly, not everything went smoothly between my cousin and other family members, and she has chosen not to stay in touch with her relations in Ludwigsburg, although we occasionally hear about her from my Uncle (her Dad, my Mum's brother).Delete
Turns out that Mr. Brague and I live in the same town for a few more weeks, anyway. I plan to move to the Seattle Washington area at the beginning of June. I've never met him, but I may have seen him around town. I love your blog. Thank you for showing us around Yorkshire. My family originated in Calverley, and your blog is as close as I will ever get to seeing it.ReplyDelete
Calverley. I have never been there Lisa but I believe it is close to the city of Leeds. What an amazing co-incidence that you also live in Canton, Georgia! I have been communicating to and fro with Mr Brague for about ten years. It would be lovely to meet him. Good luck with your move to the north west!Delete
I never think to check...one of these days perhaps I should...maybe...but at the moment I've got a job to do so I had better get cracking and get started!ReplyDelete