Hello from rural Pennsylvania! On Saturday we flew over to the US as you saw yesterday if you follow me on Instagram. In explaining, I had a bit of “1700s” fun in describing the journey in the English of that era:
"Yesterday's journey from London's main port of air took 8 hours. We landed in the city of New York at the air landing port named in honor of the Irish and Catholic president of America in the middle of last century. Upon procuring rental transport from a horseless carriage company which once was highly recommended by a gentleman imprisoned afterwards, but now soon we have read to be set free, we proceeded on the jammed Dutch road north to seek a crossing at the bridge of Whitestone. Successfully passing over that impressive if somewhat aging structure at last, we turned west to Manhattan and sought the bridge of General Washington. Approaching it, as always, men were laboring to fill holes in the road and had even closed two of three lanes to accomplish their task. Ah, to be home. I recall always when I return to my city of birth how my fellow New Yorkers in their vehicles also consider lanes not to be something which applies to them but only to others. Also if you interfere with their efforts to gain three seconds' advantage they will accuse you of recklessness yourself often while employing certain hand gestures and perhaps raising their voices dramatically in your direction. Nearly across the bridge to New Jersey, I drew my lady's attention to the toll booths opposite before which such terrible scandal had occurred some years ago that we had heard the bombastic governor of that state hath seen his further political ambitions shattered. Proceeding on through the hills of Jersey some additional hour or two, at last we reached that remote border area of Pennsylvania named Delaware Water Gap. Father was still awake at the late hour at which we arrived at his home, and he greeted us warmly. As you see the weather this morning, unfortunately, is rather too much as 'tis so often in England. I beg your pardon, Father has just now returned to the kitchen table, so I bid you a good day, wherever you may be."😂🛫🌎🇬🇧🇺🇸 . #travel #humor #humour #eighteenthcentury #NewYork #writersofinstagram #authorsofinstagram #writers #authors #expats #expatlife #USA #rural #countryside #Pennsylvania #NewJersey #history #politics #photo #photography #weather #July #nature
We’re here mostly to see my father and to spend time in the Catskills. The Catskill Mountains are about 150 miles north of New York City and have been one of my favorite places for years. I think of them now, in a real sense, as “home.”
This issue had also been on my mind for a few days, leading me to begin composing this post while on the flight to JFK. You may recall I wrote the other day that I aim to be detached and non-judgmental of my fellow Americans at home. I do so because I feel foreigners are more likely to listen to me as an American, which is why I think hard on what I am about to say when it comes to what we are as Americans and why.