A View From My Summerhouse

Chocolate Pudding

Posted on May 21, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

We have a joke, my Aspie daughter and I.

When things get too much and she observes that peculiar glazed look I get in my eyes matching only the heaviness of my heart, she asks: “Have you lost control of your life again Mom? Are you making chocolate pudding?” This always makes me laugh because I know that it is her way of showing me concern and trying to cheer me up.

She says this because when she was little, we used to watch a children’s cartoon called ‘Rugrats’ together. One couple would frequently become distracted beyond reason by their very demanding daughter Angelica’s escipades. In one such epidsode, her father, Stu, was found by his wife, Didi, in the kitchen at 4 o’clock one morning. When she asked him what on earth he was doing in the kitchen at that hour, he said that he was making chocolate pudding because he had lost control of his life.

I know the feeling!

For two years my daughter has languished in her bedroom, her online life her only life other than interaction with her immediate family and occasional days out. Severe social avoidance and anxiety has blighted her ability to do anything else.

I live with her, in her safe, comfortable bubble but I know that I am not doing her any favours by keeping things this way. I won’t be here for ever, she wants to be independent but asks: “How can I be when I can’t even answer the door?”

She says this because she is an obsessive Ebay shopper. All her items are handmade, personally ordered and created. It’s a good job that I am here to answer the door. As it is, we are inundated with those dreaded ‘red cards’ when the postman calls and I am not home. This means another trip across town during the height of the rush hour to present said red card at the sorting office so she can collect her parcel as it can’t wait until tomorrow.

Her latest obsession is that for her 21st birthday she wants a Peach Faced Lovebird. “Where will it go?” I ask resolutely. “In my room, of course!” she replies. This, together, with her Hamster, her corn snake and our two cats. Just perfect.

I sigh and she persists. She would happily have a zoo in her bedroom if it were possible.

Today I became embroiled in a rather heated discussion with her support worker. I became so frustrated that he told me that he was going to put the phone down on me as I was “shouting at him” and that he would not talk to me in this “mood”.

Oh no you don’t mate. Trust me, if I was shouting you would know about it. I say that he owes me an apology but it won’t happen. After all, what am I? I’m just the mother, what do I know?

I want to take my hands off the wheel and let it all go but I can’t.

Instead, I’ll be in the kitchen. So if you see lights on in the small hours, don’t worry. It will only be me, making chocolate pudding.

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle.” – Tim Page

Posted in Asperger's Syndrome, Family Life | Tagged Asperger's Syndrome, Autisim, Carers, Children's Cartoons, daughters, lovebird, mothers, Pets, Rugrats | 13 Comments

My Alcoholic Dad Gave Me Something

Posted on May 20, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

As a young girl I loved going for walks in the woods with my dad and my younger brother. It was ritual which started like this: On Saturday mornings, my dad would make a ‘fry up’ which consisted of everything you would expect of a ‘full English’ breakfast, including tinned tomatoes as well as grilled ones, fried bread, giant whole mushrooms and even cod’s roe (I know, I can’t believe we used to eat it, and smothered in ketchup too, yech!).

This cooking of the Saturday breakfast was pretty much the sum total of my dad’s contribution towards helping with the housework, and of course he would leave all the washing up for my mum to do afterwards, but as a kid, what did I know about all of that? All that mattered to me was that weekends meant I had my special time with my dad because after we had finished with breakfast, he would always take us out for a long walk in the woods (while Mum did the dishes in peace, you understand).

On the way out, Dad would always grab an apple from the fruit bowl and I would be fascinated at the way he would ‘polish’ it first of all on his coat lapel before eating it. He was one for ritualistic habits which I observed quietly as a child. He also had a ‘thing’ about us having clean hands and would regularly inspect them, telling me off if my nails were dirty or chewed (which they frequently were). It was the way he was, just one of his many ‘quirks’.

Dad loved to tell us stories. Every evening, when he came home from work, my brother and I would leap out of bed and rush downstairs to greet him. He would scoop us up in his arms, smother us with kisses and as he tucked us up back into bed, his stories would begin. He never read to us, his stories were always made up and designed to make us giggle with joy but also squeal with fright as he embellished them with sounds like creaking doors and moaning ghosts. Not conducive to a good night’s sleep (nothing like winding the kids up right before bedtime) but we loved it!

Bluebell Woods
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

It was the same when we went for our walks. Every creak of the timber all around, every snap of a twig beneath our feet and every rustle in the leaves above became part of his stories.

But what I loved more than anything about these walks was that it meant that I had my dad all to myself. Even then, as loving and as ‘hands-on’ as he could be, I was quite aware that there was always a part of him that I couldn’t reach, a part he kept hidden from me, from us, that was distant, untouchable and emotionally distant. There was a restlessness about him and always something within distracting him from the task in hand – and from us – and I didn’t know then or understand quite what it was. Sometimes I wondered in the inner quiet of my childish musings if my dad really did love me. What had I done so wrong? Was it my fault?

I already knew that I had competition. I’m not talking about the kind of competition which arose out of childhood jealousy when, at family gatherings, all the other kids wanted to play with my dad – “he’s my daddy, not yours!” – but the kind that was elusive, the kind I couldn’t quite put my finger on, the kind that took a part of my daddy away from me and which was silent, insidious, secretive. My competition came from inside a bottle.

I was quite used to the pacing up and down, Dad waiting for the pub to open which cut into time spent with us. Silently I would plead but wanted to cry out, “Please daddy, don’t go! Stay home and be happy with us!” But it never happened. Dad always left for the pub and then, when he came back home, there would be the arguments. Our peaceful family life fractured, bit by bit.

How the long arm of a father’s addiction reaches out to grab away a child’s innocence.

Yet, for me and as strange as it may seem, the smell of alcohol on Dad’s breath was comforting, familiar and safe because it was my dad’s smell and it was all I knew.

So I hold on to the memories of our walks together in the woods and to what my dad did give to me, when he was sober and ‘with me’ when I was a child. In his stories he birthed in me an imagination filled with a magical wonder and a love of nature and wildlife (even if with a slight tinge of menace), opening my eyes to the simple beauty of the created world all about me, a gentle, peaceful world that he tried so hard to show me.

All this in such stark contrast to the chaotic life he was to go on to live, a destructive, obliterated life fuelled by his alcohol addiction and which led to him spending the best part of his adult life in and out of prison.

It is no surprise, then, that when I entered a short story competition (400 words) for Prima magazine last year (and was thrilled to have it published in November’s edition!), I based it on my memories of these walks with my dad and the sense of mystery that he would create.

I share it here with you now.

Mystery Walk

Shards of dappled light cut through the canopy of trees, remnants of the late afternoon sun. The young girl and small boy followed the man as they trudged their way along the overgrown path in the woods. All around them ancient trees creaked and groaned, like old ships straining against the tide. Tired from their long walk the girl nevertheless was very alert and as she walked she turned at every noise, sharp eyes nervously piercing the ever-darkening shadows closing in around her.

Then, as always, it happened. The man stopped in his tracks, putting up his hand signalling the children to stop, which they immediately did with quiet gasps. The man began breathing in the air deeply, eyes closed. “He’s here, I can smell him!” he said with a quick rush of excitement. That was all the girl and the boy needed to hear. They rushed over to the man, huddling close together, excitement and fear all at once consuming them. “Shhhhhh,” he whispered, “Keep still, he’s very close.”

Not daring to move, they waited, still as posts, straining for every sound and looking for any movement nearby, hoping beyond hope that at last they might see ‘him’. Minutes passed, seemed much longer, but nothing. “He’s gone,” said the man, no longer whispering. “He beat us again but I know he was here. Maybe next time. Come on, let’s go home.” Disappointment weighed down the little group but the girl never gave up hope of seeing ‘him’.

The girl grew up and she always fondly remembered those walks with her dad and brother, although it never failed to amaze her that they never did find ‘him’. The years passed by and at last, whilst driving home one summer evening, she did. In the middle of the quiet road just ahead of her he arrived, completely unannounced. Childhood excitement she thought was long-buried surged up inside her as she quickly braked.

He looked up at her just long enough allowing her to admire his beauty and magnificence, although he was much smaller than the mythical creature she had long imagined. He allowed that much before darting into the nearby hedgerow, disappearing, gone. Breathing out a whoosh of air as she flopped back into her car seat she smiled, incredulous that she had waited so long for his appearance, that illusive, mysterious fox.

In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks. ~John Muir

Posted in Alcoholism, Childhood Memories, Family Life, My Dad's Alcoholic Prison, Nature & Wildlife, Writing | Tagged Alcoholism, Childhood memories, Children, fathers, Mystery, nature, Red Fox, story telling, Walking in the woods, Writing Competition | 11 Comments

What Has Your Blog Done For You?

Posted on May 15, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

Four months have gone by since I started this blog and after some (healthy, I hope!) introspection, I find that I am asking myself one question: “Why did I start this blog in the first place?”.

Why indeed? Back in January, did I think that I had anything worth writing about, to share with somebody, anybody here in cyberspace, who might be in the least bit interested in the musings and ramblings of a thrice married, shall-we-say mature mother of three grown children who has ‘started over’ more times than she can remember and whose daughter just happens to have Asperger’s and an alcoholic jailbird for a dad, and who might think that her ‘view’ from her summerhouse might be of any value to anyone? What could I possibly write about?

This blog is not defined by my daughter having Asperger’s neither by my dad being an alcoholic but my life has been and still is heavily impacted by these two things. I wonder why I mentioned these things specifically, however, when there is so much I could write about from the past such as divorce, grief, abuse, loss, financial reversal, rejection, loneliness, depression, and, of course, death. All heavy stuff.

It seemed, then, very overwhelming to me to write about all these things, as cathartic as it may be, and I was worried that I might be delving too much into my past. Did I really want to be sharing all this highly personal ‘stuff” here, in the public domain? This disturbed me.

Well, I was in for a big surprise! I had no idea that my very first source of inspiration, my muse if you like, would come in the form of a robin who chose to visit the very day I started my blog. His little red tuxedo shone like a beacon, illuminating not only my grey, winter-worn garden but also setting my heart alight first of all and then fanning into flames my creativity until it burned with joy and hope. Crazy isn’t it what that darn little bird has done for me?

Then a more curious thing happened. I found that as I wrote about the sweet side of life, the comical, cute and ‘slice of life’ things which happen during the course of the day, more than a few precious childhood memories came flooding back to me and these gave rise to stories that I can share here now with you, dear reader, in this blog. In this way I am reminded of the good, wholesome memories of my past and what healing this brings to the soul!

This lifts my spirits and gives me hope and restores my faith in all things bright and beautiful.

It has shown me that the little girl inside me who believed in fairies, and pressed flowers in scrapbooks and was mesmerized by the pure magic of finding tiny, speckled blue eggs untouched in a blackbird’s nest is still there, still breathing and still very much alive.

As I intertwine the good memories with the bad, I am able to tell a more rounded story and so realise that it is acceptable to share darker thoughts and memories here and maybe even write something of good worth which others can relate to and moves them and which brings even the tiniest of smiles.

So, then, what is the answer to the question above? I was going to say that the reason I started this blog was to document my journey as a new writer and to share writing updates as and when, and yes, this is true. The main reason, however, was that I had a burning desire to share with you what I have learned to be so true in my own life:

That it is never too late to change your life, that no matter what has gone on before, however much pain and grief, when you strip everything away, so long as you still have hope then you have everything. The God I believe in is the God of the second chance. His mercy and grace is what kept me going and still does. When we are faithless, He is faithful. Do not, ever, give up.

So now I see what this blog has become, is becoming. It is a living, breathing thing and is only as good or as bad as I make it. Along the way, in these four short months, I have discovered a very wonderful thing. Writing about the past has not floored me or knocked me down in defeat as I feared it would. Instead, as I create I am empowered and I keep on keeping on. Essentially, this blog found me!

What I have also found, quite unexpectedly and so wonderfully surprisingly, is some measure of confidence to at last tell the one story I have wanted to tell for so long. Yes, I have started ‘that book’. We all talk about the ‘book that is in me’.

I’ve had this book in me for 32 years but because it means that I have to return to a dark past to write it, I have been in despair at the thought of ‘going back’. But now I know I can do it, I have the strength because it is a story I must tell. Writing this blog has shown me how. This community has shown me how. Thank you so much.

So the question, then, should really be: Don’t ask what have you done for your blog but ask, ‘What has your blog done for you?’ 🙂

………………………………………………………………………………

In making a few changes to the layout of this blog, I have removed the following piece as a static page so that I can post it under a category name and this is the only way I could figure out how to do that, so apologies for the repetition! (Still learning the techy parts!)

Back in February I wrote ‘This Writer’s World’ when I was very kindly invited as a guest blogger by The Writer’s Bureau and reading it again now, I am struck by my ‘writer’s angst’ in light of what I have just written above for this post.

Does anybody else relate to ‘this writer’s world’ I wonder? I’ll be very interested to know your comments and what you think!

This Writer’s World

This writer’s world is unlike any other where I’ve ever lived. I’ve moved many times over the years, twice between the UK and America, and each move meant leaving behind one world where I was settled within my circle of family and friends, only to enter a strange, new world as an unknown, rootless and friendless, starting over. During this constant shifting between two hemispheres, moments of great joy took place (such as when each of my three children were born), this indescribable joy bursting briefly against a backdrop of disappointments, hardship and loss as the years went by. Loss of homes, loss of friends, loss of life.

So what of this writer’s world that I now inhabit? It is lonely and intense, yet it shuts out all else like a comfortable, warm blanket keeping out the chill. Distractions of any kind while I type madly away – housework, shopping, cats that need feeding, answering the phone – are intruders, resented and, therefore, ignored. Except for the cats that is, they will be ignored for only so long.

The paradox of my lonely existence in this new writer’s world is that really, I am a sociable being. I enjoy meeting friends for coffee and ‘doing’ lunch now and then but now, if I don’t see a day in the diary free of commitments I panic, as it means I am forced to put my writing on hold until later. As a student of the Writer’s Bureau winding my way through the Comprehensive Writing Course, it is one thing to put time aside to work on my assignments but now I have started a blog and it is threatening to become all-consuming. Goodness, if I’m like this now, what will I be like if I ever do write ‘that book’? Even so, I relish it. Is it an obsession? Maybe.

In my brave, new world I have discovered that as I write about the things that have happened in the past, I am finding a new contentment in the present. Perhaps even a tentative confidence for the future? My loneliness and anxiety collides with my new-found sense of accomplishment and fulfilment and propels me on as I write about ‘what I know’. I realise that no experience is ever wasted, even if just to encourage one other person. I am not an alien in this writer’s world and I don’t have to carry a passport. I am a citizen with full birth rights and I belong.

I just wish I had moved here a long time ago.

Posted in Blogging, Childhood Memories, Guest Blogs, Nature & Wildlife, Sweet Robin, Writing | Tagged Alcoholism, Blogging, change, Childhood memories, Fairies, faith, Foreign travel, God, Homesick, hope, joy, late bloomer, Mid-life, mothers, nature, writing | 19 Comments

Sweet Dreams Are Made of These…

Posted on May 13, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

How sweet it is to be loved by you…oh yes it is!!

I am so very grateful, surprised and honoured (and also slightly embarrassed – I’m British you know, and not used to receiving all these accolades!) to be nominated for the Super Sweet Blogging Award from my dear fellow blogger, the delightful Tazein. (If you want inspiration, do visit her incredibly inspiring, ‘transcending borders’ Super Sweet blog!)

Thank you so much dear Tazein for your nomination and for your support of my blog. I really do appreciate it!

Of course, as before, there a few rules to be completed for this award, as follows:

THE RULES:

1. Thank the Super Sweet Blogger that nominated you.

2. Answer 5 Super Sweet questions.

3. Include the Super Sweet Blogging Award in your blog post.

4. Nominate a baker’s dozen (13) other deserving bloggers

5. Notify your Super Sweet nominees on their blog

Rules 1 and 3 already completed (love this colourful, super sweet logo!), so I’ll go straight to Rule number 2:

THE 5 SUPER SWEET QUESTIONS:

1-Cookies or Cake?

Hmmm…I like both, but I’ll go with cake!

2-Chocolate or Vanilla?

Vanilla for cakes.

3–Favorite Sweet Treat?

Dark chocolate.

4-When do you crave sweet things the most?

At all the wrong times…afternoons, evenings…

5-Sweet Nick Name?

Known to be called ‘Shezzer’ by some 🙂

For Rule number 4, I thought long and hard about this one and found it really, really difficult. There are so many wonderful blogs I would like to nominate, even those I’ve already nominated for previous awards (I nominate you again dear blogging friends in my heart!) but in the end (and in an effort to make things a little easier on my part!) I decided to narrow it down to those bloggers who write about three subjects very close to my heart – Asperger’s Syndrome, life for ex-pats (living, or have lived, in foreign countries) and writing (including blogging tips and advice). This has been a great exercise in looking for and finding completely new blogs (new to me that is). I have really enjoyed reading all about these bloggers and their posts.

HERE YOU ARE, THEN, MY SUPER SWEET BLOGGERS:

1. http://www.writerachael.com/blog.html

2. http://johnfallenwriter.com/about

3. http://aspergersgirls.wordpress.com/

4. http://lostinthelabyrinthh.wordpress.com/

5. http://solodialogue.wordpress.com/

6. http://jessicaschaubbooks.com/

7. http://ministerlane.wordpress.com/

8. http://expatiallymexico.wordpress.com/

9. http://janedougherty.wordpress.com/about/

10. http://dragonlane.wordpress.com/

11. http://polysyllabicprofundities.com/

12. http://simplystephanieblog.com/

13. http://outrunningthestorm.wordpress.com/about/

Many ‘sweet’ congratulations to you all! Now I just have to complete Rule number 5 and let you all know about your nominations, which I am about to do right now!

Get ready to be sprinkled with some sugar & have a super sweet day 🙂

Posted in Awards | Tagged Awards, dark chocolate, friends in my heart, sweet treats, The Super Sweet Blogging Award | 9 Comments

Champagne It Is Then!

Posted on May 10, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

With all the dreary, gloomy news about these days, one bad thing after another it seems, (including, but not limited to, the perils of growing older – that is, for anyone over 30 – ), how wonderful it is to hear, at long last, some glorious news.

New research has discovered that a compound found in Champagne has been shown to improve short-term memory (and possibly ward off dementia). Therefore, it has now been recommended that those of us over 40 should drink at least 3 glasses of bubbly a week in order to achieve this benefit. Well, twist my arm why don’t you?

If this isn’t good news and cause for celebration then I don’t know what is! Drink up my over 40 and fabulous friends!

Celebrate!
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

I need good news like this. A vague kind of melancholia afflicts me today, lingering like a bad aftertaste from eating something bitter. This is not unusual, a common thing for me and more than likely the result of a week filled with misplaced expectations and the inevitable disappointments.

One’s short-term memory is not be taken for granted, since a lack of it can create such confusion and frustration, and not just for the person trying so desperately to remember what was said only a few minutes before but for the person trying to understand.

Or, as in my Dad’s case, he had forgotten to ‘mention’ that he had an operation 2 weeks ago but was positive that he had told me about it. He hadn’t.

Champagne it is then! A cure for what ails me and a memory booster all at the same time. What could be better?

A certain lady said it best:

‘I drink champagne when I’m happy and when I’m sad. Sometimes I drink it when I’m alone. When I have company I consider it obligatory. I trifle with it if I’m not hungry and drink it when I am. Otherwise I never touch it – unless I’m thirsty.’ ~ Madame Lilly Bollinger

So pop the cork, pour that fizz and raise a glass of bubbly and I shall remember what it was like not so many days ago to dance in the wind and watch the sun set over the Pacific Ocean.

How shall I tell you what it was like? It was like this:

Remember the good times & thanks for the memory…I’ll drink to that 🙂

Posted in The Black Dog, Uncategorized | Tagged Ageing, Celebrate, Champagne, Good News, Happy memories, Health Benefits, Melancholia, middle age, Short Term Memory Loss | 17 Comments

My Cats & My Robin Enjoyed the Sunshine – How About You?

Posted on May 8, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

It is funny how things change in life. From the age of ten, I grew up in a village in rural Suffolk and so spent many-a-day running across fields, walking in the nearby woods, climbing trees and such. Of course, my brother and I also got into a lot of mischief, like the time when we decided to make a ‘camp’ at the end of our garden.

It started to get a little chilly so we came up with the bright idea to make a fire. We ended up setting fire to an entire row of hay bales. Bearing in mind that the house where we lived was a 14th century, oak-beamed farmhouse, this was not exactly the smartest thing to do. Did we get into trouble? You bet!

Growing up in this kind of setting and experiencing the great British weather in all its glory, good and bad, ruined me for living in a climate which is conducive to long, stifling hot summers and a ‘winter’ more commonly known as ‘the rainy season’. I’m talking about California of course.

Misty Bay
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

When I first moved to California in 1986 I was so thankful that we were able to move to a delightful, small town by the ‘bay’ on the central coast, more so since the marine layer from the nearby ocean would engulf us in a lovely, chilly fog during the summer months. Wonderful! When I felt homesick I could make a lovely cup of tea, eat a couple of Rich Tea Biscuits (smuggled over in various suitcases) and pretend I was back ‘home’ with my Mum.

One day, we went to a car show at a town a good hour away and more inland. It was over 100 degrees that day and I didn’t care much for the town either. I couldn’t wait to leave and return to our foggy haven, being sure to announce to my then-husband on the way home, “I could never live in that horrible, dusty one-horse town!” Well, I think that most of us know the saying, “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans”

Yes, you got it. A couple of years later guess where we ended up moving to, and not only that, we went on to live there for ten years!

Actually, I did get used to the heat (it really is true what ‘they’ say, a dry heat is much easier to deal with than a humid heat) and I grew to love where I lived but oh how I missed the rain then, I can tell you. Raincoats, wellies and umbrellas were a novelty to my children, cause for celebration!

Daughter in the Rain
(c) copyright
Sherri Matthews 2013

Now that I’ve lived back in jolly old England for the past ten years, I have reverted to my very British ways, and, like my fellow Brits, I love to complain about the weather as much as the next person. What else would we have to talk about? It is a very colourful subject for us. Now, don’t get me wrong, we do love our rain as without it our land would not be the green and pleasant one of which we are so fond, and proud, but when it does rain, we still moan. Go figure.

I never could get used to being shut up indoors when it was so hot that it was impossible to go outside. Here, it is the complete opposite. When the sun comes out, everybody goes outside, and men rip off their shirts (although I wish they wouldn’t unless they are fit) and people talk to each other (about the lovely sunshine of course!).

Which is why the last few days when that old sun put his hat on, winked at us and came out to play made us all so very happy. A long weekend and the weather was glorious. This just doesn’t happen. A miracle! I think that God had mercy on us because if we hadn’t had good weather by now I think that the entire nation would have rioted (oh, but that’s another story…)

So what did you do during this recent gorgeous sunny spell? We (as in me and my husband) spent our time in our garden catching up with all those jobs which have so far eluded us for one reason or another. Nothing like a day’s hard labour gardening, followed by a long sit down (yes, outside!) with a tall, cold glass of something alcoholic and surveying all our handiwork.

We had quite a bit of help too. Sweet Robin has been a frequent visitor doing a bit of what I like to call ‘worm management’, cheekily swooping down onto the newly turned soil having spotted a fat worm, or two. He did a good job and no doubt his new little family were very pleased too!

Sweet Robin Listening for Worms
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Sweet Robin
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

The cats were also most helpful. Obviously we had to tell them that no, Sweet Robin didn’t want to ‘play’ with them, and they soon became distracted with their tasks in hand.

Maisy, our tabby, made sure that she supervised our moggie Eddie while also managing to look rather beautiful against the tasteful backdrop of a pot of recently flowered tulips.

Maisy Supervising
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

However, although Eddie did a good job of walking all over my plants and lying in the dirt (no doubt looking for a good place for me to plant my lavender), Maisy’s supervision was a little lacking as she didn’t seem to notice that he kept sleeping on the job.

Eddie Sleeping on the Job
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Maisy gave up after that and decided that what was good enough for Eddie was good enough for her.

Maisy Sunbathing
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Rain or shine, make the most of your day 🙂

Posted in Birds of a Feather, CATalogue, Family Life, Garden Snippets, Photos, Suffolk Tales, Sweet Robin | Tagged Britain, cat photos, cats, Central Coast California, Childhood memories, English Robins, Family Life, Gardening, Home, Homesick, moving house, rain, Robin photos, Sunshine, travel | 16 Comments

Part Two – The Sunshine Award

Posted on May 3, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

Now for Part Two! The Sunshine Award!

What a great name, ‘The Sunshine Award’. I love all that it means metaphorically (awarded for writing positive and inspiring articles and so bringing some ‘sunshine’ into the lives of others) as well as, quite literally, coming at the perfect time when that old sun is at last shining down on us here in Blighty, warming us all up and bringing with it a renewed optimism, a burst of energy and a lightness of spirit.

Please know that I take none of this lightly, never having had any expectation of receiving any awards, nor even really knowing about them until recently to be totally honest. So, when my ‘blogging buddy’ Beverly Harvey nominated me for this award, she certainly gave me extra reason to smile! She has a wonderful blog called Moggiepurrs, a beautifully written blog all about cats (all you cat lovers out there, run, don’t walk to this blog) but she is also quick to offer advice for new bloggers with news of competitions and great ideas to help fellow bloggers expand their blogs. She has been very encouraging and supportive of my writing from day one more or less, so a huge thank you Beverly for this and for bringing me some extra sunshine today!

Now, onto business. As with the previous award, there are certain rules to keep to:

Rule 1. Post the Sunshine Award logo on your blog (makes me smile just to look at it!).

Rule 2. Nominate 10 fellow bloggers

Rule 3. Announce their nomination in their blog’s comment section

Rule 4. Mention links back to their blog, including a link to the person who nominated you.

Rule 5. Answer the questions. This is designed to help people get to know you better.

Award logo posted, so now – do I hear a drum roll please? – here are the 10 fellow bloggers I’ve nominated for The Sunshine Award:

1. http://traveltimetalk.com/ Beautiful travel blog with gorgeous photos. Arianna Elise, a young college student eager to travel the world, inspiring us to ‘think outside the box’ when traveling.

2. http://cruisingthroughmylife.wordpress.com/ A moving journal of personal memories

3. http://tomculver.me/ Gorgeous photographic blog capturing nature in all its glory.

4. http://unshakablehope.wordpress.com/ Truly inspirational blog in the face of adversity, beautifully written, you will be richly blessed when you visit this site.

5. http://noordinaryjoy61.wordpress.com/ Wonderfully written blog about seeing the lessons in everyday life.

6. http://citizengallagher.wordpress.com/ To give a little sunshine.

7. http://choppingpotatoes.wordpress.com/ An exquisitely written blog about a lovely mum’s challenges and victories.

8. http://retireediary.wordpress.com/about/ Wonderful blog of ‘thoughts, moods and photos’

9. http://mvschulze.wordpress.com/ ‘Preserving and capturing moments’ is the premise of this fascinating blog.

10. http://rachelmankowitz.wordpress.com/ Lovely blog by a writer who just happens to love dogs!

Now this is the part where I answer the questions –

1. Favourite Colour

If for clothes, then black. In this case, it has to be orange in honour of this Award 🙂

2. Favourite Animal

Tiger, tiger, burning bright, in the forest of the night…

3. Favourite Number

7 (don’t ask me why, I just like it!)

4. Favourite Non-Alcoholic Drink:

That’s easy, a lovely cup of tea, several times a day (after all, I am English)

5. Favourite Alcoholic Drink

That’s easy too – a chilled glass of champagne, what else?

6. Facebook or Twitter?

Facebook, I don’t do Twitter.

7. My Passions

My family & good friends, my home & garden, walking, new adventures when possible, wildlife, travel (again, when possible) great music (see below), dancing, and of course writing and this blog. Anything I like I’m passionate about actually!

8. Giving or Receiving Gifts?

Definitely giving, I love to surprise people with totally unexpected gifts. I organised a collection from the family for my husband’s 50th birthday for a flight on a Tiger Moth. The look on his face as he took off was priceless. Although I have to say I was absolutely thrilled with the personally engraved IPOD my three kids gave me for mine, and all the music my son loaded onto it for me 🙂

9. Favourite City

Has to be London.

10. Favourite TV Show

Got to be Mad Men.

So that’s it! Phew! Now I just have to let you all know.

Congratulations to all my nominees, your turn to spread the sunshine 🙂

Posted in Awards | Tagged Awards, The Sunshine Award | 9 Comments

Two More Blogging Awards! Part One – The Versatile Blogger Award

Posted on May 2, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

So, having just returned home to my poor, neglected blog, I was delighted and very surprised to see that, while I was away, the gorgeous Shruti Srinivasan has nominated me for The Versatile Blogger Award! Thank you so much Shruti, it was a wonderful welcome boost and I am honoured to receive this award. Do please visit Shruti’s inspiring and uplifting blog, you will not be disappointed!

As if that wasn’t enough excitement for one day, much to my amazement I then received another nomination, this time from my lovely ‘blogging buddy’ Beverly Harvey, she of her wonderful blog ‘Moggiepurrs’, for The Sunshine Award 🙂 I will be writing all about this nomination and Beverly’s blog in the next post immediately following this one…hence this being Part One, and the other Part Two! Hope this all makes sense now!

However, what Beverly doesn’t yet realise, but very shortly will, (shhhh, don’t say anything, it’s still a secret!) is that she is one of my nominees for The Versatile Blogger Award so now I get to surprise her too! Oooh, I love surprises!

Right, now back to business. There are certain rules to abide by when nominated for The Versatile Blogger Award, the first and most important rule being making sure to hugely thank the person who nominated you and linking back to their site – duly done, as above!

The second rule is that you need to find and link back to 15 bloggers whose blogs you follow, or who follow you or who you have some interest in and then the really fun part, let them know right away that you have nominated them! Keep the smiles going 🙂

So (and this is the hard part as there are so many wonderful blogs to choose from), here you are my lovely bloggers:

1. Moggiepurrs

2. Rising Woman

3. Brunch For Every Meal

4. ArchangelTravels

5. The Baggage Handler

6. Rosalie Squires

7. About The Woman

8. Adrian Lupsa

9 . Tanyamurchie

11. All My Canine Companions

12. Victor Travel Blog

13. Worship His Holiness

14. The Rogue Healer

15. Lesley Carter

Congratulations to you all!

Now, the last part is that I have to tell you 7 things about myself (and these are very random, just as they popped into my head) which are as follows:

I left school when I was 16 after taking my ‘O’ Levels and returned to college full-time 3 years later.
I was finally brave enough to go on the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland for the first time this year – and I went not once, but twice, woo hoo!
I was adamant that my children learnt good manners and to be polite – not so old-fashioned really!
I am not the extrovert a lot of people think I am.
When I failed my driving test for the first time I cried.
I have wanted to write a book for 32 years – I think that now is the time!
I’m just a crazy rock-chick at heart.

So that’s it, I’ve done my part, now I just have to let you all know the good news about your nominations, then it’s your turn!

Have fun!

Posted in Awards | Tagged The Versatile Blogger Award | 4 Comments

Baby, I’m Back!

Posted on April 30, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

Well, hello again dear readers! I have returned from my journey across that vast Atlantic sea, safe and sound, climbed back out of a sleepless void commonly known as ‘jet lag’ so that I am now managing to sleep 4 hours straight (yes, that is good for me) and here I am, back to my blog!

How are you all, how has life been here in blogging land? I hope you are all well? I feel like a stranger here as I realise that I am well and truly out of the loop, so this is where I jump right back in, sink or swim.

So, just how do I adequately describe what it was like to return to a place which was once my home for so long after an absence of 10 years? Should I mention the high jinks my friends and I got up to? Or the great American food I got to taste? Or the feel of that warming Californian sunshine beaming from a flawless, blue sky that never seems to run out, so welcome after the bitter cold British winter?

One important thing I must certainly write about is the immense kindness, generosity and hospitality shown to us by friends and family and how wonderful it was to be embraced and welcomed by them all, it as if we had never left. ‘Thank you’ seems so inadequate.

With that one exception, I could go on and mention what it was like for me to revisit my old homes where once I had lived with my young family. I would say that things haven’t really changed all that much and despite it not being generally very wise to ‘go back’ (or so ‘they’ say) I found that, in this case, it was a necessity, it was for peace of mind.

How would I describe what this was like? I texted my husband back in England (he of the curry sauce and chips) one evening and messaged this: “Saw my old houses. They are sad and empty without the essence of my young family in them. That time will never be again, it is a whisper in the wind, gone forever”. That is what I felt at that precise time. Every where I looked I caught fleeting glimpses, as in a dream, of people I have loved and lost and who are no more, of a time and a season in life that no longer exists.

Did this make me sad? Of course. wistful, certainly. Yet, these are all memories which are from the past and being able to blend them now, at last, into the present, has at long last enabled them to be put to rest, to make room for new memories which grow even as I type this. It is all part of life’s rich pattern about which I seem to frequently write.

Maybe I could write about one evening when my friends and I were driving along the coastal highway and decided to pull over into a layby which overlooked the wild coastline of central California, set alight as it was by the auburn fire of a glorious evening sunset. Adele’s ‘Set Fire to the Rain’ belted out from the car stereo and we sang along, then, in a brief moment of mad spontaneity, we all leapt out of the car and started dancing, joyous and free as the sun dipped ever lower behind us. A sharp wind caught our hair as it whipped across our faces and we delighted in the sheer freedom of that crazy moment.

However, I would then have to tell you that a man wearing a cowboy hat in a white truck pulled up near us, then crossed over to the other side of the road and looked as if he was filming us on his cell phone. We very quickly scarpered after that but if you happen to see anything on ‘You Tube’ that closely describes the above scene, you will know exactly what I’m talking about…

Or, you might like to hear that my daughter had the most wonderful time with her Dad and that one evening, having casually asked him if he could take her to Hollywood ‘just to look around’ (as you do), she found herself being given tickets inviting her to the ‘Red Carpet’ movie premier of ‘Oblivion’, whereupon she got to meet Tom Cruise, shake hands with him and get his autograph. Wow! But then that would be name dropping so I won’t mention it…

You might, however, like to hear about what the flights were like – thanks Air New Zealand btw, will definitely choose you again – but all to say about that would be that my daughter and I got to sit next to each other, just the two seats, near the loo, at the back, and so we were happy campers and not much to tell really.

Except there was just one small incident when we hit turbulence about an hour from LA and it seemed as if the plane dropped several thousand feet (I may be exaggerating here) and I spilt my G&T all over my blanket. Obviously I had to get another one – a G&T that is.

Compared to what I have experienced in years past, however, this was a minor incident. I travelled at least once a year during the time I lived in the States, when I would take my three children to England to visit family. Every time, no exception, at least one of them would be ill in some form or another. Once, we were descending and preparing to land but up until that point everything had been going oh so well. I should have known better.

On this particular occasion, bearing in mind that we were all strapped in with only about 20 minutes to go before touchdown, without any warning, my daughter suddenly vomited all down her front (even went into her shoes, sorry, too much detail perhaps?) and my younger son spouted a horrendous nosebleed, also all down his front. So you see, a touch of turbulence and a spilt G&T, in the grand scheme of things, is nothing to me. Bring it on…

So, that being said (or not, as the case may be) it dawned on me that you might like to see a few of my ‘holiday snaps’ taken during my travels between Los Angeles and San Luis Obispo. They are a bit of an eclectic mix, capturing my impression of ‘my California’. I hope you will enjoy them!

Thank you California – it’s been a blast!

Welcome Flag (c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Californian Poppies (c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Wild turkey in Morro Bay (c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Love that In-N-Out (c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Sea Otter keeping Sea Gull at bay (c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Pastrami at Canters LA
(c) Sherri Matthews 2013

Morro Bay (c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Californian Quail on fence (c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Sunset at Moonstone Beach (c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Posted in Family Life, Friendship, My California, Photos, Uncategorized | Tagged Bittersweet Memories, Central Coast California, Dancing, Family Life, Friendship, Home, joy, laughter, Los Angeles, loss, pain, Photos of California, San Luis Obispo, travel | 10 Comments

Our Spooky Loft, A Queen Wasp & it’s Hasta La Vista, Baby!

Posted on April 6, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

I don’t like going into our loft at the best of times for two very good reasons:

For one thing, last summer, when I had to go up there for something (always looking for ‘something’), just as I poked my head up inside the entrance being several steps up the loft ladder, as I reached out fumbling about for the light switch, I heard a very low, droning buzz so close to my face that I could almost feel it’s vibration. How I didn’t fall down the ladder I don’t know, but my husband, hearing my scream, came rushing to my rescue thinking I had seriously hurt myself, bless.

Seeing that I was fine (on the surface maybe, but did he not notice that my eyes were mad with terror at the thought of what kind of hideous creature might be living up there?), he determined that it was “probably nothing” (nothing?) and then, once going up there himself and investigating, decided that it was, in fact, “just a queen wasp” (just a queen wasp??) which was squirming about in a gap in the loft boards (centimeters from where my head had been only seconds before, the utter horror of it all!) before flicking it out, onto the landing below (where I was standing…!) whereupon our cat Maisy promptly leapt on it and started to play with it.

The other reason is that ever since my daughter cajoled me to go and see the movie ‘Sinister’ with her at the cinema some month’s ago, each time I go up there now I’m convinced that I’m going to come across a strange-looking cardboard box conveniently placed in full view (but was not there before) and when I open it up, it will be filled with dodgy homemade movies (not that kind of dodgy, but as in spooky and weird) which I shall be compelled to watch and it will all go downhill from there (I’ve got a very vivid imagination as you can tell).

If you’ve seen the film, you’ll know what I’m talking about, and if you haven’t…well…don’t.

It’s no wonder, then, that I am just a bit stressed. I’ve been up and down that loft ladder endlessly these past couple of weeks. I’m trying to find articles of clothing usually worn in warmer climates which have been put away for the winter and not seen or worn by any human since last October since it has been too frigid to wear anything other than thick wooleys and thermals.

I’ve also made endless lists, having a main list with numerous sub-lists and still they keep multiplying…things to do, to buy, to find, to remember, on and on.

The cats have been throwing up all over the place (sure sign of a reaction to all the recent commotion), I wake up at 3 am remembering all the things that I forgot to put on ‘the list’ (or was that the sub-list, or the pre-list, oh I can’t remember!) and I’ve driven in and out of our driveway more times than a fiddler’s elbow.

Exhaustion! Panic! Stress! All this can only mean only one thing…I’m going on holiday!

I’ve gone on about it for ages now, so apologies if you are fed up hearing about it, but my daughter and I are ready for the off, at long last, to California and, in all seriousness, we are so excited, elated and we can’t wait! It has been hard-fought but we made it, yes, we did.

So, dear readers, after three months of blogging almost to the day, I just wanted you to let you know that I am temporarily signing off from my blog for the next couple of weeks but I hope that you won’t forget about me and will still be here when I return!

Oh, and just one more thing, please spare a thought for my dear husband who is holding down the fort and house/cats/hamster/snake sitting in our absence but who I suspect secretly can’t wait for us to go so that he can eat chips in curry sauce every night for supper, watch endless hours of all his classic car shows on Dave and enjoy a bit of peace and quiet. He can’t fool me!

I leave you now, as I really have to get on with the packing, but in the words of one certain ‘terminated’ Governor of California:

Hasta La Vista, Baby…I’ll be back!