I do hope this little piece will be answered at least in part by Laury in France or Niels in Denmark. My question is simply, “What happened to the August holidays?” Of course, I do realize that I am in the United States this August, as I have been for too many recent past Augusts. But, I do miss what I remember as the summer break when I lived in Europe.
Perhaps, I am just tired. It seems to happen more often these days — getting tired. But, I dare not complain. I am thankful for reaching the AARP age with all the little discounts. And, I do love the look on the young man’s face at KFC when he dares to inquire if I would like the “free senior citizens’ beverage” with my take away meal. It is almost as if he is embarrassed to assume that I am old enough for such a freebie. But, in truth, he knows full well that I am. I am not ashamed of my age — or my appearance of age — by any means. In fact, most days I am just glad to be here.
That brings me to the holiday season. For some reason in the States we seem to mark the holiday season as the month of December. But, I can remember the eight years I lived in Windermere (Lake District in U.K.) and the big holiday season was August. Maybe it is the difference in the way the Brits used the term holiday and the way we Americans use the term. So, for the sake of clarity I will ask what happened to the August vacation season. I do suppose that it never existed as such in the U.S. Nothing here ever closes down for a month unless there are lay-offs. And, we have seen plenty of those, haven’t we?
I do suppose some of my neighbors are wondering about my musings. We just watched “Iris” and maybe they are thinking I am starting to lose it. I’m going to trick them and clean the house from top to bottom tomorrow. You will have to see the movie to appreciate the comment. By the way, if you haven’t seen the movie, it is worth watching. However, I must say it was quite painful for me emotionally. My mother had Alzheimer’s.
But, back to the holiday season. I started thinking about it today. Oh, I thought about it as soon as Niels wrote that he was spending time at the farmhouse in Denmark, but… Anyway, so far this month — and we are not quite at the half-way mark — my sister-in-law has been on holiday including her birthday visit home. My husband’s cousin that I have seen — ah, maybe — three times ever decided to stop by while he was on holiday. I knew it was a holiday trip because he had his wife — number whatever — and his step-daughter and his step-granddaughter and his step-granddog and who knows who or what else was hiding in the van.
Both my sons suddenly appeared — on holiday. Of course we are always glad to see them and their wives and the granddaughter and the granddogs. Of course, having one of the dogs go missing was an unexpected adventure for a few days.
So far this month it seems as if everyone has been on holiday but us. So, I started thinking about it. You see, when I lived in U.K. I went on holiday during the entire month of August like all the people I worked with. I can remember going to a small town in Italy for the month of August one year. I had rented a small villa for the month. It was my first August in Europe and to be honest I had no idea that everyone — and I mean everyone — goes on holiday during the one designated month. So, I rented this villa. It was remarkably underpriced. (Should have suspected something!)
First Italian Holiday
I can remember arriving at the villa. Where were the “staff?” You see, in all the pictures there was a housekeeper, a cook, and at least one other person. Maybe, if my Italian had been a little better I would have understood more. Or, maybe if I were not so thrilled about the reduced rate I would have realized something was askew. Anyway, I arrived at the villa with a friend only to find a key under the mat and a huge empty house. Okay, so I wasn’t exactly accustomed to having a housekeeper, or a cook, or…. Well, my small flat in Windermere was a one woman show.
The refrigerator was well stocked and that was good. The first week was great. I didn’t even miss the housekeeper or the cook. But, by the second week I was needing some bread. My friend and I went to the closest village and discovered something that made me think of the Italian version of The Twilight Zone. We passed one person walking and another on a bicycle. That was it. And, the bakery? Closed! The meat market? Closed! The vegetable market? Closed. You get the idea. I learned to make bread in August while on holiday.
So, this month — the holiday month of August — has been a robust holiday season for just about everyone I know. So, here’s the deal. Everyone, invited and otherwise, has come and gone. I am thankful for their comings and goings. That said, there are roughly two weeks left of the international holiday season and this bakery is closed.
{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }
Hi Maya
first of all, I am in a funny way thankful for seeing at least one post from you in which you complain !:) and secondly, in my childhood, I can remember one single summer, 1955, in which my father spent a week with his wife/my mother and my two brothers touring around in Denmark, otherwise my father had always some kind of business arrangement connected to trips in our School summer holidays period; more later today since I am back on job in Tromsø now !:) warm regards Niels
Niels,
Thank you. I am complaining… and longing for the less stressful memories of Augusts past. Eight years in Europe, working for a company that closed for the entire month is such a pleasant memory. My age is showing, for sure. But, with age I have learned that having a “mental health month” — August in Europe — made the so much fresher and more energetic when I returned to work in September.
As always, we love to hear from you. And, perhaps in the future, while we are still able to get around, we should all meet up during August. (I still bake bread!)
I’m chuckling to read this for a variety of reasons-growing up in St. Louis we never had real vacations until my Dad got a job where he got time off which was when I was 13. We began to go to Silver Dollar City in the Ozarks for one week every summer where we stayed in a cabin so Mom could cook! We loved it and looked forward to that week all year long. You can imagine I was not sympathetic when a young British man came to work for me who expected to have the whole month of August off-if you’re interested in the rest of the details-I’ll fill you in! I have never had a month off from a full-time job in my life for vacation! I believe that the Europeans are much more civilized in their approach to many things, particulary work style and quality of life! I tease that we are now in what I call “Club Cadrieu” mode. Although I’m here full-time, starting in the middle of July through the end of August-all of our friends who have places here but live elsewhere begin their holiday returns. It’s fun and rarely a night goes by that I’m not at someone’s house for aperos, swims, dinners, or just catching up with a good friend over a coffee or a glass of wine. Greg and I actually sat with friends earlier this week on the terrace of the Château and said: “Hooray-we don’t have anything we have to do next week! We’re free!” So-tomorrow is the French holiday Assumption…I’m hosting the Assumption Apero Party Chez Moi before everyone begins to leave to go back home! Ah, la vie en France!
Laury,
You are invited to share your story of the young Brit. I am sure it will be most interesting. I do believe in one post I shared my first real experience with a Brit. He picked me up at the airport, dropped me at the hotel, and announced that he would be by at 6:00 to “knock me up” before dinner.
I swear, I was in lust. Then, I discovered that I don’t understand “English-English.”
Email me if you would like to tell your story. I will set you up to contribute.
Thanks for your warm story. Enjoy. I am envious!
Actually Maya-it’s brief-during my employee’s first year on the job, he insisted that my boss and the medical director had told him he could have a month off every year. They didn’t remember it that way, but were willing to compromise at 3 weeks the first year with some leave without pay. But that year, and every year after that for the period that I supervised him…he would call from the UK with some reason as to why he couldn’t get back on time. Needless to say, it was very frustrating. Eventually he had to be reprimded in writing, and I transferred his supervision to another staff person under me. That appeared to work, and when I left that job, he actually apologized to me for the hassles! Thank God, I don’t do that kind of work anymore!
HA! I understand your story! I worked and lived in UK for 8 years and I can tell you for sure there was a cultural difference. While all of us tranplants were hustling to get ahead and meet deadlines, living under stress and feeling the pressure to succeed, our British counterparts worked fewer hours a week, seemed to be under less stress and absolutely stated that holidays were not negotiable. And, to our dismay most of them were more productive.
Once I started riding my bicycle to the office — as the Brits did — I felt less stressed, enjoyed my work more and learned to stop by the pub — without a briefcase full of work to take home. I got pretty good at darts, and finally learned to drink dark ale without finding myself under a table or dancing on top of one.
Laury, you do bring up old memories that may be better left in the mind-vault.
I chuckled at your “dark ale”-I went to a wedding in Cambridge with my friends from the village who are originally from Ipswich! Standing with their grand-daughter and her husband, he ordered a pint of dark, asked me what I wanted and said I’d have the same. I had a couple…maybe a few-and was later told that everyone was in awe! First that I could drink so much and hold my liquor, but secondly…”Ladies don’t drink “pints” of anything!” Excuse me…I was not informed. They love picking on me over here-do you know what “pulling” is?
I do know “pulling” from my days in UK… and Ladies do sip a “pint” from time to time… regardless of what is said. Of course, I thought “English” was my native language until I moved. When I returned home to the U.S. everyone wanted to know if I had learned a language during my years of working abroad. My answer is simply, “Yes, English!”