A View From My Summerhouse

Spring Is Sprung & My Hummingbird Tale

Posted on April 3, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

Spring is sprung

The grass is rizz…

I wonder where the birdies is?

Every spring time I think of this little poem; it takes me right back to when I was nineteen and working at the Post Office in a small town two miles from the rural village in Suffolk where I lived.

A man called Reg worked there part-time as the office cleaner to earn a little extra cash in his retirement years. He had seen many years of active service during the Second World War and had that lean, sinewy strength of a man who had laboured all his life and who was fit as a fiddle despite his pack-a-day smoker’s habit.

I can see him now, leaning on his broom, sleeves rolled up and cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth reciting this silly little poem in his Suffolk accent, grinning from ear to ear! Incidentally, Reg went on to be an important part of my life for many more years, but that is a story for another time.

For now, let’s get back to the birdies! Where are they indeed? Well, they are everywhere it seems for spring has indeed sprung and today, not only did we have some glorious sunshine (hooray!) but my Sweet Robin swooped in for another quick ‘drop-in’, perching himself on my hanging basket right outside my kitchen door!

I couldn’t believe it, his beady little eye peeped right at me and he looked more cocky than ever. Isn’t it funny though that whenever the sun shines my robin shows up?

Alas, my camera was not at the ready, but I did snap him in the tree again. What with this, an abundance of yellow everywhere and the good news that my winter hanging basket is now at last a-bloom with narcissus daffodils after having lain dormant all these bitter, cold months, the evidence is here indeed of a spring in full bloom and so reason enough to be cheerful.

Sweet Robin In The Tree
(c) Copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Springtime Hanging Basket
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Springtime Primrose
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

As I write this I think that ten years ago, this very month, I was preparing to leave California with my children after my marriage of twenty-one years had come to a spluttering end.

I have not been back since then.

Soon after I started this blog in January, I felt compelled to write California Calling. Now, in a few short days, my daughter and I will be jetting across the sea back to where it all began so many long years ago.

Before I left America, I took a holiday with my children in San Diego, determined to visit as many places as possible with them before we left. It was wonderful. We explored the Zoo, the Safari Park and Sea World. On the way home we stopped off to visit The Queen Mary in Long Beach and our old haunts in Los Angeles. I still can’t believe I did all the driving!

One evening, back at our hotel in San Diego where we were staying, I was sitting on the patio outside our room enjoying a long, tall ice-drenched Gin & Tonic (what else?) enjoying the stillness and quiet of the moment.

I remember a warm sea breeze picking up as the sun lowered in the Californian sky, yet in the midst of this idyll, I pondered the seriousness of my family’s situation and the harsh reality of all that we would be facing when, in a few short weeks, we would be so far away from all of this, leaving all that we knew and loved in California, to face a new, uncertain future in England.

The deep sense of loss and pain dug deep into my heart despite the calm and peace that surrounded me in that sunset moment.

Then…out of nowhere, a hummingbird, its colours gleaming like a rainbow in a prism, appeared right in front of me at eye level, a mere six inches away from my face. There it hovered, looking right at me. I froze in wonder, daring not even to breathe for fear of scaring it away.

For a few brief seconds, time stood still and there we were, that hummingbird and me, gazing at each other in perfect stillness save the quiet hum of its wings which were as light as lace. I wanted to reach out and touch it but I could not and then it was gone, disappearing into sunset’s whisper.

I have often wondered about that moment and have never forgotten it. I think that hummingbird was sent to give me a message, to tell me to keep looking up and not to look down. To always keep the beauty of life’s colours and warmth in full view ahead, not hidden away in the shadows below.

So now here I am, ten years later, writing this blog and telling you all about it.

Who would have thought it?

We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us. (E M Forster)

Posted in Family Life, Garden Snippets, My California, Sweet Robin | Tagged California, divorce, England, English Garden, English Robin, Family Life, hope, Hummingbirds, San Diego, Spring, travel | 30 Comments

Our Dog Ate The Easter Eggs and The Empty Tomb

Posted on March 30, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

Oh happy day! I have just had my boys home for a couple of days it being a long weekend for Easter and so I had all three of my baby chicks back in the nest once again! How lovely for my daughter to have her brothers back home again too, and yes, dear readers, joy and laughter reigned in our home once more.

When we first moved to California, I was a young mum and I soon discovered that quite a few seasonal traditions in America were quite different to the ones I grew up with, not least of all at Easter time. So, eager to create new memories for my family, I learnt the art of creating Easter baskets as well as keeping up traditions from my childhood by giving them British-style chocolate Easter Eggs. This was usually achieved thanks to my mum, who would often visit around Easter time bringing the eggs with her – oh such excitement!

When I was a child, we would receive our Easter Eggs on Easter Sunday (the number we received depended upon how many relatives happened to be visiting, the more the merrier!) and I remember that the best and most exciting bit was opening up the solid chocolate egg and finding a little packet of sweets inside! It was magical. They don’t seem to make them like that anymore, now the sweets are packed separately in the box. Shame.

Talking of Easter Eggs, here’s an interesting little fact for you: The first solid chocolate egg was made by J S Fry of Bristol and was sold in 1873. However, a recent report states that sales fell by 4.5 million last year and the trend seems to be continuing. I wonder why?

All I know is that my children always received their Easter Eggs from their Granny with glee! One year though, they had to go without.

Mum had arrived for her annual stay and after unpacking she handed me the precious eggs for sake keeping until Easter morning. I put them in the garage on top of the washing machine and so out of sight, which seemed the best place for the time being.

Returning from a walk later on that day with our then lovely dog Bonnie, a cross labrador/collie who was sharp as a whip and adored the water, I put her in the garage (accessed from the kitchen – love that about American houses) to dry off. I was not expecting the sight that greeted me a little later…

Eldest Son with Bonnie as a puppy – 1984
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Bonnie was her usual bright and bushy-tailed self, tail wagging and happy to be let back inside but I did a double-take when I noticed a large amount of shredded cardboard and ripped up foil strewn all over the garage floor. I couldn’t understand where it had all come from.

Then, suddenly feeling a little sick, I realised that Bonnie had not only managed to drag the bag containing the Easter Eggs from the top of the washing machine, but she had ripped open all the boxes, torn off the foil and eaten every single chocolate egg, not a morsel left.

Oh no! My dog was going to die!! Chocolate is poison right?

Well, all I will say is that Bonnie was absolutely fine. No problems whatsoever. It could have been worse. (Incidentally, she also got to an entire leg of lamb once – another Easter incident – but that’s another story.) We all laughed about it in the end and the kids forgave her! She was cast iron that dog. She went on to live to be 14, with her grey old muzzle and slightly arthritic leg and she loved to swim practically right up to her last day until old age took her quietly away one autumn evening.

The importance of creating family traditions was always so important to me and one thing I used to do with the kids at Easter for breakfast was make ‘Roll Away The Tomb Buns’ which is a great way to teach them about the meaning of Easter morning in a very simple (and tasty!) way.

Here’s how:

Get a pack of frozen bread roll dough and defrost. Roll out each bun into a circle about twice the size of the dough ball and place a large marshmallow in the middle. Fold up the dough all around it, pinching it together making a round ball. Glaze the dough with melted butter and sprinkle with a little sugar. Bake in the oven according to the dough’s instructions and voila! It’s that easy! Cut them in half and where the marshmallow has melted on the inside it creates a hole in the centre of the bun. Just like an empty tomb, which brings me to the simple, yet powerful message of Easter.

For me, this can best be summed up in the words repeated by a certain little boy. Running out of Sunday school one Easter morning, eager to show me pictures he had drawn and very excited about getting home to his Easter treats, he insisted on firstly telling me something every important that he had just learnt and memorized about Jesus and he needed to tell me now, it simply couldn’t wait. It is these words, pouring out as they did with such joy and excitement from the mouth of my youngest son all those years ago that I leave you with today:

“He is not here, He is risen, just as He said!” (Matthew 28:6)

Wishing you all a very Happy Easter 🙂

Posted in Family Life, Family Traditions, Recipes | Tagged American, British, Children, Christianity, Dog, Easter, Easter Bun Recipe, Easter Egg, Family Life, Family Traditions, Jesus, Pets | 8 Comments

The Joy of Children & The Sadness of Asperger’s

Posted on March 26, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

Well, what a time it has been these past several days, a real mixed bag. The fantastic interaction and wonderful responses with/from everyone in the aftermath of an award nomination had me quite giddy there for a time! Back to earth with a bump but isn’t it amazing how even when things seem to be going completely pear-shaped all around you something completely lovely and totally out of the blue can come along and completely knock your socks off (in a good way) and blow the gloom away? Love it when that happens.

I say this because just as all this joy and excitement swirled about me, my daughter, who is 20 and has Asperger’s Syndrome, was not doing well. It is not of any benefit to go into details here (and she certainly would not want me to) but suffice it to say it has been one helluva time. She hardly ate for 2 days and didn’t leave her bed. It was as if she was fading away, my darling girl, trapped as she was in a very dark place and I was deeply pained to see her so distraught.

We had to pick up some medication for her at our local chemist on a busy Saturday afternoon in town and I had a couple of questions about it. Then, out of the bleakest moments, the slightest word of kindness from someone, a complete stranger, someone who knows nothing of you or of your situation, can shine just a tiny dot of light into the black.

The lady serving me was so unbelievably warm and helpful (perhaps somebody had whispered to her, perhaps I looked troubled) that I wanted to jump across the counter, plant a kiss on her cheek, and call her Auntie. She couldn’t do enough for me.

Thank you kind lady whoever you are.

Isn’t it so refreshing to be treated like this? So different to the other day when I went to our local discount store when I purchased a large amount (as in an over-flowing basket load) of bulky household items – think a mind-boggling array of cleaners and the like. There they all were, piled up at the end of the conveyor belt. After paying for the goods I was asked by the checkout girl, “Do you want a bag?” No, it’s alright dear, I’ll just balance everything on my head whilst I hike the 10 miles back up the high street to my car. I’m sure I’ll manage just fine.

I digress.

Children are very much on my mind at the moment ever since we went to a medieval banquet in London last weekend (great fun by the way!). A very large group of boys and girls of about 8 or 9 years old were taking up several tressel tables at the back of the room and getting thoroughly into the spirit of things, taking great delight in thumping their small fists on the table whenever King Henry VIII sang or honoured them with his presence by walking past their tables. The unrestrained looks of joy on their faces were clearly asking the question: “How often are we allowed to do this and get away with it!”

Towards the end of the evening we were all encouraged to get up and dance. By this time, our serving ‘wenches’ had ensured that we had all enjoyed quite a bit of ale and wine – not the children of course! One minute we were doing a spot of that old country dancing, feeling positively queenly and kingly dressed up in our medieval outfits, all holding hands as we skipped to and fro in circles to something very similar to ‘Greensleeves’ when suddenly the ‘medieval’ music stopped and broke out into the strains of that all time classic, ‘I’m a Believer’ by The Monkees.

It was like a scene straight out of Shrek. I half expected to see the Gingerbread Man turn up at any minute with the Three Little Pigs and a moonwalking donkey. The kids went crazy. Some were attempting to break dance on their heads, others were ‘dancing’ but it was more like pretend fighting with pretend swords and even some not-too-shabby Tae Kwon Do moves. Some of those kids though could do some pretty mean twisting and shaking let me tell you! They were having a ball.

I wanted to be them, with them, fooling around like them, just to be able for those few precious moments to be completely free and utterly unchained, to be part of their gang.

Oh dear children, enjoy the days of your youth. Oh dear daughter of mine, my hope and prayer for you is that you will be able to achieve this and know times of unbridled joy and happiness.

Their total carefree abandon and exuberance reminded me so much of when my children were young. My boys were always play fighting in the way that all young things do, rolling about the floor locked in numerous wrestling moves.

The only problem was that my younger son wore glasses. This is how it would go: I would tell the kids calmly (ok, sometimes it would be more like a yell) to remove the glasses first. Yet, despite this, and it was always the same, after a sustained period of very noisy and boisterous rough housing things would suddenly go very quite. This would be followed by whispers of, “Shhhh, don’t tell Mum”. This, of course, always meant that the glasses had been broken. Again.

So this meant yet another trip to our friendly optician. They knew us so well that every time they saw us coming they would order in food and get out the best china. “Now, let’s see, hmmm, looks like we will have to order another pair of glasses. Something a bit stronger. Will titanium do?” Cha ching.

Oh I miss those days, I really do. What seemed like such a disaster at the time is now part of family lore and which I now share here with you. All just part of life’s rich pattern. My son has worn contacts now for many years but my boys still like to give each other one or two friendly little punches here and there – think it’s a sort of deep-held primitive greeting.

With Easter coming up fast I remember how I would make a new dress every Easter for my daughter. I wish I could make her a new dress now, a new anything, to clothe her in brightness and colour to cover up the loneliness and isolation which so cruelly defines Asperger’s Syndrome.

But for now, in case you were wondering, we have won through and my daughter is doing much better again, thank goodness. Things are calm for now and I take a deep breath.

So I get up and I dance, once again.

“It is not a slight thing when they, who are so fresh from God, love us.” Dickens

Posted in Asperger's Syndrome, Family Life | Tagged Aspergers, Children, Family Life, hope, joy, Kindness, Medieval Banquet, Prayer | 8 Comments

My First Ever Blog Award!

Posted on March 22, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

What a lovely surprise, such excitement putting a huge smile on my face today! Why? Because the lovely Rachael Featherstone , a full-time writer and blogger, has nominated me for The Leibster Award!

Thank you very much Rachael, and yes please, I would like very much to accept!

Rachael gave up a career in banking over 6 months ago and like me, started her blog in January. She is following her dream. Her blog has some wonderful advice for writers, do check it out. I’m so glad I did!

I have seen The Leibster Award on other blogs but wasn’t too sure what it was for, until now. It originated in Germany and was set up as a way to discover new blogs. What a lovely thing!

The rules are simple:

The important bit is to post the award on your blog – after all, you earned it!
Next, the other really important bit is to thank the blogger presenting you with this award and provide a link back to their blog – duly done, as above!
You then need to write 11 random facts about yourself – could be dangerous, this bit!
One good turn deserves another, meaning, you then need to find 11 other bloggers with less than 200 followers who you think are deserving of the award so that you can then nominate them! In other words, keep the love going 🙂
Finally, the award presenter will ask 11 questions of you which you need to answer and then you, in turn, ask your nominees 11 questions, and so it goes.

So, let’s get this party started. Here are 11 random facts about me:

The day I had each of my three children were the happiest days of my life.
When I was a teenager I had a huge poster of Steve McQueen on my bedroom wall.
My favourite chocolates are After Eights.
When I was 10 years old I shook hands with Sean Connery.
I’m left-handed in everything except ironing and peeling potatoes.
I’m petrified of wasps.
I detest rhubarb.
I taught myself to play Moonlight Sonata on the piano but now I’ve forgotten how to.
I wish I had been a dancer.
A photograph of me when I was 16 is on the front of an album cover – very random!
According to my family I am now obsessed with my blog.

Right, that’s all done, so now I will answer Rachael’s 11 questions for me:

1.How long have you been blogging? Two and a half months and counting.

2. Why do you blog? Blogging has given me a sense of community I didn’t know existed outside my little summerhouse! ‘This Writer’s World’ can be quite an isolating place. The comments, likes, support and encouragement I ‘ve received so far have blessed me more than I can say, especially since I had absolutely no idea what I was going to blog about at first, and actually, even now, it can be fairly random! It’s just so great being able to share it with others and hopefully bring some interest, enjoyment and the odd smile along the way!

3.What accomplishment are you most proud of to date? Raising my children. Other than that, having my first article published in a national women’s magazine this month!

4.What is your biggest fear? Losing all hope.

5.Who is your favourite author? Ann Rule – I love true crime and she is queen of this genre.

6.What is your favourite food? Homecooked Sunday roast.

7.Where do you most want to go on holidaytravel? A road trip in an RV across America.

8.What is your favourite sport? Watching Wimbledon every year.

9.What is your worst habit? Worrying too much.

10.Are you planning to do the A-Z Blog Challenge and why? I didn’t know what it was until I googled it. I would love to try to do it but I will be away during April so sadly I won’t be able to rise to the challenge – maybe next time!

11.What do you most want to accomplish over the next five years? Travelling the length and breadth of this beautiful British Isles with my lovely husband in our yet-to-be-acquired motor home and to have my first book published.

That’s enough of me, now it’s time for the drum roll…!

My nominations are:

1. Constance

2. Sheila Marie

3. Bits and Pieces

4. Helena Fairfax

5. Move from the Garden

6. Mother Koala

7. Mairead’s Blog

8. Julie (Aka Cookie)

9. Tieshka

10. Nadia Ink

11. In and Out of My Garden

And these are your 11 questions:

How long did you think about starting a blog before you actually did it?
If you won the lottery what would be the first thing you would do?
Who do you most admire?
If you could have any car what would it be?
What is your favourite flower?
What is your favourite all-time movie?
What was your worst subject in school?
Of all the books you’ve read, which has had the most impact?
Have you ever seen a ghost?
What is your favourite desert?
If a movie was made about your life which actor would play you?

Congratulations to you all! I hope that you will accept my nomination and I look forward to hearing from you soon 🙂

Love Sherri x

Posted in Awards | Tagged Leibster Award | 28 Comments

The Hope of Spring

Posted on March 18, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

Spring Blossom
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Alleluia – By Glenna Oldham

Daffodil footprints

herald the coming of spring

like summer rains

usher in autumn’s bountiful gifts.

Alleluia!

And your life, my friend

makes ready a road for the Lord.

Alleluia!

Oh I praise the Lord

for life and love…

and you, dear friend.

Posted in Friendship | Tagged Daffodils, Friendship, hope, Poem, Spring | 8 Comments

Robin Feed Guarantee & A Cute Little Chiffchaff

Posted on March 15, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

Just when you think you’ve got it sorted, buttoned down all the hatches and preempted every foreseeable weather event (as in: Lopped off the trees in the back garden which were getting too tall and knocking against the neighbour’s fence; cut back the rambling rose which had grown top-heavy and fallen down before; replaced the fencing in the back so preventing any further panels from blowing over as it did so last year and finally, secured any and all trellises for my other climbing rose and my honeysuckle so as to prevent repeat disasters of said rose and honeysuckle being blown down in the wind) and wouldn’t you know it, courtesy of gusts of winds up to 50 mph this week, we had a nice little surprise when the roofing felt on top of the summerhouse ripped and was blown clean off.

Yes, as in my summerhouse.

It could have been worse, I know, but we’ve also endured bitterly cold temperatures here in Blightly this week which have barely risen to a high of about 32 degrees farenheit (that’s a big fat zero in centigrade). The type of cold that bites into your bones and makes you want to stay indoors and do nothing but sit by a warm fire, drink copious amounts of tea all day long and eat just as many toasted crumpets, oozing with melted butter.

To hell with the diet.

Lovely husband came home early and replaced the roofing felt before the rain comes in, which I believe is forecast. As I said, we need to be on guard at all times. This is coming from a person who lives my life always waiting for the ‘other shoe to drop’ (oh ye of little faith) because it seems to do so fairly often, and then with a resounding clunk. I know there are no guarantees in this life and we were never promised a rose garden – pardon the pun.

Still, best to roll with the punches I say.

It’s not been an easy week. Think that darn ‘black dog’, he of the shadows, has been creeping up on to the bed again in the dead of night and lying down next to me because in the morning I have this huge weight I have to shift before I can even contemplate getting up to face the day. He sits quietly in the corner by day where I tell him to sit and stay and I try not to look at him but I hear the sound of his breathing all around me.

Today though, it’s Friday, (it seems to come around much quicker in blogging land) and oh happy day, oh what a joy, oh what a spring I have in my step! There I was all ready to call this post: “No Sign of Sweet Robin but I did see a Chiffchaff!” (“A what?” I hear you say – be patient, all will be explained shortly) when, who should I see, this very morn, right by the feeders? Yes, my Sweet Robin! He hopped about a bit from branch to branch but he wasn’t going to let me get quite so close this time. He was acting a bit shy and he made it clear that he wasn’t in the mood for posing for photos.

I don’t blame him, he had other things on his mind.

Not least of all, Eddie, my naughty black cat, who was on the loose in the back garden, albeit lazily sunning himself by the back door (yes, the sun has appeared briefly this morning!) and not looking particularly threatening for the time being but enough to cause my Sweet Robin a bit of bother.

He was also busily chirping away to get someone’s attention and that someone turned out to be Mrs Sweet Robin. Oh how lovely to see her return also! They didn’t stay long, enough to have a few morsels of special robin food (the bag said so, got it from Wilkinsons, had a picture on the front of a robin so I took that to mean: ‘Guaranteed to attract Sweet Robin’). Well, it worked!

Despite going all coy on me, however, (and I don’t take no for an answer that easily), I did manage to snap these of my Sweet Robin:

Sweet Robin At The Top of the Acer Tree
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Sweet Robin
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Now what about this Chiffchaff? Have you ever seen one of these lovely little birds? I certainly hadn’t, at least not to my knowledge, until now. I first noticed a pair of them flitting about all over my honeysuckle and in and out of my albeit very bare jasmine a week or so ago and thought that perhaps they might be nuthatches.

When I saw one of them again a few days later on my sage plant right outside my kitchen door I got a much better look at him. Sort of robin like, but not with the red breast, about the size of a blue tit but brownish-green and with a dark stripe through its eye. Where is that Observer Book of Birds when you want it? Wish I knew what happened to that delightful little book.

Chiffchaff sitting on a birch tree Photo Credit: Image by א (Aleph), http://commons.wikimedia.org

Thanks to the wonderful interwebs and lo and behold, I found the perfect description so that I could put a name to this cheeky little bird. I found out that it is a leaf warbler and is one of the first migrant birds to visit the UK in the spring, but usually not sighted until the summer. My brief ‘chiffchaff’ research also revealed that they like to eat insects (as well as caterpillars and moths) which would explain why he was pecking away at the leaves and branches of the honeysuckle and the jasmine. I guess he must have found something tasty on the sage too! He was far too nervous for me to even think about getting a photo so I borrowed the one above instead.

Think I’ve said it before, I’m no bird expert but I do love seeing all this wonderful wildlife in my back garden. It is a blessing I never take for granted – a gift from God to lighten the day.

Have a wonderful wildlife weekend and rejoice in today.

Posted in Birds of a Feather, Garden Snippets, Photos, Sweet Robin | Tagged birds, Black Dog, Blessings, Chiffchaff, garden, God, joy, Robin photos, Spring, Summerhouse, Sweet Robin, wildlife, Wind | 3 Comments

My Moggie Eddie’s Close Shave

Posted on March 12, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

Sometimes our pets can give us a real scare, and sometimes this can come out of the blue when we least expect it. Today, I’ve been asked by Animal Friends Insurance to share my story on my blog about my lovely black moggie, Eddie, who had a very nasty close shave when he was just about two years old.

I write about this more as a warning than anything else as to what to look out for just in case any of you reading this may have young, male, neutered cats. We certainly didn’t know what to look for or what it was at the time, or how dangerous it can be.

We hadn’t long moved house when Eddie first started to act strangely and so, at first, thought that his out-of-character behaviour was a direct result of that – urinating on the carpet, hiding away under the bed, just not his usual, bouncy self.

Our pets really are such an important part of the family and, as such, we are probably more clued in to their behaviour than we actually realise. Despite rationalizing what we thought was just an annoying behavioural issue, something just didn’t ‘feel’ right and we kept an extra-special close eye on our little boy.

Eddie As A Kitten
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Late one night after a couple of days had gone by of observing Eddie’s odd behaviour I caught him squatting in a peculiar position and then urinating, or trying to, on the carpet but to my horror, as he did so, he suddenly let out an awful squeal of pain and he was shaking. It was awful to watch.

It was almost midnight and being new to the area we quickly looked online for the nearest emergency veterinary clinic and called them. The vet told us to get Eddie to the clinic immediately and she would meet us there. I have to say that the vet was marvellous. After quickly examining Eddie and taking note of his symptoms she immediately diagnosed him as having a blocked bladder and told us that he would need to be admitted right away for treatment as it could turn life-threatening within hours. To say we were shocked is an understatement.

She explained that bladder stones form in the bladder which pass down the urethra and down into the penis, blocking the flow of urine. Since urine can’t pass out of the body it starts to back up into the kidneys and the bladder can even burst, hence this being such a dangerous condition. Apparently it is more common in male, neutered and inactive cats. Eddie was also a bit overweight at that time (he does love his food!) and that is also a factor.

Happy, Healthy Eddie As He Is Now
(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Three days later we were able to bring Eddie home. During his ‘stay’ I called to check up on his progress and the vet had laughed as she recounted how he had managed to pull out his catheter all by himself during the night having broken his special ‘preventive’ collar to do so! He was having none of it. Yes, Eddie was as naughty as ever which meant he was well on the road to recovery, much to our relief!

Thankfully we had pet insurance; the total bill came to about £500. But Eddie is worth every penny. As my husband likes to often say about the day we got him: “It’s the best fifteen quid I’ve ever spent!”

Eddie is now 7 years old and I’m happy to report that he hasn’t had any recurrence of any bladder problems. He is much more active, goes outside every day, and although he had to eat prescription meat for a year or two afterwards he now eats ‘regular’ food – but no more dry food, unless it is special prescription.

He is happy, healthy and rules the place. Long may it continue.

Posted in CATalogue, Guest Blogs | Tagged Bladder Stones in Cats, Blocked Bladder, Cat medical symptoms, cat photos, cats, Moggie | 2 Comments

A Fridge Magnet’s Wisdom & My Little Gardening Man

Posted on March 8, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

It felt positively spring-like on Wednesday. The sun shone all day! It’s all gone downhill since then. Today, Friday, and its back to more rain in the air, although not quite so cold so things are looking up I suppose.

“Perhaps we shall have another sunny day before spring vanishes before our very eyes,” she says sarcastically to self.

Rain or no rain, which of course we do need but it seems we have all or nothing these days, I do have some rather beautiful tete-a-tetes gracing my kitchen table, those delightful miniature daffodils, picked for me by my lovely mum from her garden and which never fail to bring cheer to my heart.

Tete-A-Tetes Picked From My Mum's Garden(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

Now, since it was such a gorgeous day on Wednesday I shall tell you about it. Off I went for a lovely long walk around our park. For the first time in an age I actually got too hot and had to remove my coat. Not only that, I was really daring and pulled the sleeves of my top up as high as my elbows – “Steady on,” I hear you say – so as to expose the bare flesh of my forearms to the sunlight. I know, it’s shocking isn’t it?

As I walked on by it was lovely to notice yellow and purple crocuses popping up in the grass to the side of the path. They weren’t there a few days ago and seem to have suddenly come up from nowhere. Something about observing these gorgeous crocuses and the way they had just ‘popped up’ made me come over all philosophical. Or perhaps it was the injection of Vitamin D imparted to me from all that lovely warm sunshine. Either way, this often happens when I go for walks, I can really get my life sorted out in just over an hour, it’s great. Best therapy out there.

Thoughts of springtime in California filled my mind and my coming-up-fast trip and then I was suddenly reminded about a great pearl of wisdom that was given me when I lived there many years ago. No, I’m not talking about a ‘Damascus’ moment, as in a booming voice from the sky or a blinding light or anything like that. This might disappoint you, but it was from a fridge magnet of all things (they do have their uses you know, not just for holding up stuff on the fridge). So what are these wonderful words of wisdom you might ask ? Simply this: “Bloom where you are planted”.

Bloom where you are planted. Hmmm. Make the most of where you are, wherever that happens to be, put down roots and grow there. Embrace all that it has to offer, here and now instead of looking at all the ‘what if’s’ and the ‘just maybe’s’ and the ‘if only’s’.

Everything we are looking for is so often right in front of us, if only we take the time to open our eyes to see it and open our arms to reach for it.

I longed for my ‘English Country Garden’ when I lived in California but we moved so much and I never had the chance to live in one place long enough to reap the benefits of enjoying an established garden.

So, I planted lavender and roses in every garden wherever we lived. I enjoyed them for a short time and when I had to move on and leave them behind I saw them as a present for the people who would move in after we were long gone. At least, I like to think of it that way.

Roses thrive in California, loving the sun as they do. I didn’t have much idea how to grow them so I took myself off to the library – pre-internet – to learn how to grow them from bare root. One of the gardens where we lived had a row of chilli peppers growing in it, which I promptly ripped out to make room for my roses. Sure the kids, and probably others who were to live there would have prefered the chillies but I needed to grow my roses.

As much as I wanted my ‘English’ garden, I also knew that I needed to embrace what California had to offer. In my new home, in family life, in friendship and, of course, in my garden, wherever that happened to be.

We did live in one place long enough to reap a small harvest. Gathering up various gardening tools, seed packets and welly boots for my then young children, we learnt together how to grow pumpkins as large as houses (that’s another story!), zucchinis the size of marrows, plump, juicy tomatoes, towering sunflowers as well as California lilacs and poppies, rosemary, wisteria, grapevines and morning-glory. Two glorious harvest years! How I loved my Californian garden!

My lovely mum has had amazing English gardens wherever she has lived and knows the names of every plant on the planet (well, not quite, but you get the gist) but even she wasn’t too sure about certain aspects of what to grow in my Californian garden so when I needed help, I would pay a visit to my local garden centre to see my little ‘gardening man’.

Everyone local knew him as ‘Sal’. Sal had a real twinkle in his eye. He knew his gardens and he knew what his ladies wanted in their gardens. Sal always had the right answer and oh how he could give out those great gardening tips, oh yes indeed. I learnt an awful lot from Sal. I miss Sal.

Bloom where you are planted.

So here I am now, in my English garden, five growing years unfolding before me. Plants and veggies which thrived in the hot Californian sun struggle here or don’t grow at all, but now I can grow my beloved hollyhocks, foxgloves, delphiniums and lupins (if the slugs don’t decimate them that is) and yes, I am still planting those roses and lavender but this time I get to enjoy watching them grow year after year.

Garden centres continue to be a wealth of knowledge, although of course I no longer have Sal to turn to. At a recent visit to one I learnt that growing lavender near roses keeps the aphids away. Who knew?

I have a lifelong dream kept safe in my heart of living in a cottage in the country oneday. As well as a farmhouse kitchen with an Aga and a huge pine table with room enough for all the family and friends, it will have roses growing up and over the front porch.

Bloom where you are planted. I can dream but I don’t want to waste time thinking of what might be in years to come and miss what I have now because of it. There is nothing to say I can’t bring a tiny bit of my dream to our little home right here in suburbia, right now.

I don’t have a farmhouse kitchen or an Aga but we did plant a rambling rose. Boy, did it ramble. I didn’t read the label properly at the time so didn’t pay heed to the fact that it could grow to up to 30 feet! Still, I wanted a fast grower with lost of pretty rose buds and after a couple of years of growth, that’s what I got! I wanted it big, blooming and beautiful and right across the porch.

Summer Roses - Before The Storm(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

It was all of those things until strong winds and a storm last summer blew it all down. The photo below shows what my beloved rambling rose looked like one week after the photo above was taken. I was so disappointed.

Summer Roses - After The Storm(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

As Autumn came to an end last year we cut the rose right back and hope that it will grow back stronger and more beautiful than ever. Signs of new life abound and so I do, indeed, take hope. I will keep you posted!

Life, like gardens, can be full of surprises, disappointments and ‘cut-backs’. But there is always hope.

Bloom where you are planted and may your hope ‘spring’ eternal.

Posted in Garden Snippets | Tagged California, Children, England, Flowers, garden, Garden Photos, Growing a Garden, hope, Lavendar, love, Rambling Rose, Roses, Spring, Tete-A-Tete | 12 Comments

Keep On Keeping On – Three Writing Firsts

Posted on March 4, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

‘Keep on keeping on’. I’ve been using this expression quite a lot lately. Must be for a reason.

It’s been an exciting time for me for me recently and I’m not quite sure what to do with it but, if you care to read on, I would just like to share with you what’s happened to me in my little ‘writing world’!

Friday the 22nd February was quite a day for me.

Firstly, I had been asked to write a guest blog for The Writer’s Bureau which was posted that day – my first ever guest blog!

Secondly, I was also really excited to see mention made of me in February’s edition of ‘The Write Place’, The WB’s quarterly e-newsletter. Never seen my name in print like that before, woo hoo!

Thirdly, the other big thing that happened is that I received my copy of April’s Prima. After months and months of talking about it (endlessly, sorry!) I can’t quite take it all in. My first ever article, published, in Prima, a national women’s magazine. Wow is the word indeed!

Thank you Writer’s Bureau, got to make mention here of you! The Writer’s Bureau has been wonderfully supportive and has given me great advice about submitting manuscripts and approaching magazine editors. Couldn’t have done it without you!

Everywhere I go and see rows and rows of magazines I scan them for sight of Prima and then smile slyly to myself knowing that my article is right there, inside its pages, for all to see if they should stop and take a look. I want to tell everyone in the shop to go and buy it because my article is there but of course I don’t.

Yet, and most peculiarly, as much as I want everyone to read it, I’m strangely secretive and possessive of it, wanting to keep all to myself. I’m not sure about other people reading it. What if they don’t like it? What if they don’t even bother to read it and just gloss over it? Is that really odd?

Funnily enough, this paradoxical ‘oddness’ of being a writer is the theme I wrote about for my guest blog. I called it ‘This Writer’s World’ and if you Click Here can still find it on the WB blog. If you care to read it here, it can be found in the header menu, of the same name.

I don’t know why I waited well over a week to share my news here. After all it’s not as if I’ve just found out I’m on the ‘Best Seller’ list for my latest novel and so expected everyone to already know about it. I wish. I’m sure I wouldn’t have waited an entire week to share that news!

I think it’s just all beginning to sink in. Probably because not that long ago I felt like I was well and truly on the rubbish heap. I had a job I detested and a boss who used to saunter in to the office mid morning, call me darling and ask me to make his coffee. Perhaps he should have called me ‘silly girl’ and patted me on the bottom while he was at it.

Been there, done that but this is now.

Now I’m here. Now I write. Now I’m in print. What a feeling!

The love and encouragement from my family and friends has pushed me on. Thank you again dear ones. Then, when my sons and daughter tell me how proud they are of me, well, that is just the icing on the cake.

They, who are my pride and joy, my heart and soul, proud of their old Mum? I can’t ask for more than that.

And so yes, I shall indeed, keep on keeping on.

May your Monday be a ‘Sun Day’ and may it bring a smile to your heart.

Posted in Guest Blogs, Writing Updates | Tagged Children, Guest Blog, joy, love, Mum, Pride, Prima, The Write Place, The Writer's Bureau Blog, Writer's Bureau, writing | 6 Comments

Cat & Mouse & A Lovely Morning Cuddle

Posted on March 1, 2013 by Sherri Matthews

Friday again! Perhaps I shall make my ‘Friday Blog’ a regular thing. If so, then I also need to make this a regular slot for a weather report, so as not to disappoint. Therefore, for those of you reading this and care to know, here it is:

Today, it is…..wait for it……cold. Again. There you have it.

It is also March 1st, and that means that soon the surrounding fields will be filled with new-born lambs frolicking hither and thither (a bit of old English that), bird’s nesting and ‘hosts of golden daffodils’ as far as the eye can see.

That, at least, is my idyllic vision of a spring which is almost upon us despite the fact that although the sun did come out to play for a short time it has, once again, gone ‘missing in action’.

Meanwhile, we have plenty of ‘sunshine’ indoors thanks to the fun and games, indeed commotion galore, thanks to our naughty cats. It’s that boy again (cat, not human). Husband gets up at the ungodly hour of 4.30 every morning. Before he leaves for work he feeds the cats who have come to expect having breakfast this early every morning. Oh yes, weekends are fun in our house!

A few mornings ago I was doing my usual. That is, I was trying to get back to sleep (having been awake oh, let’s say, since about 3 am as per ‘normal’) when, from downstairs, and unusually, I could hear the back door open, then close, then open again, and the strained sounds of Husband’s voice saying, “Eddie!” and “out!” and “no!”

This was interspersed with the sounds of a kitchen chair being scraped across the floor, cats leaping about all over the place obviously in a state of some kind of great excitement, and finally, what to me sounded like a very deep growl. By this time I was sitting bolt upright in bed. What on earth? Did we have some wild animal in the house or something?

The back door closed and the strange growling sound stopped. Husband’s footsteps coming up the stairs. Oh oh. He had come to tell me that Eddie had brought a live mouse inside the house and dropped it on the kitchen floor causing the poor mouse to try and run for its life.

Maisy was delighted at this real, live mouse, oh boy, did it smell great, so very different to their toy mice filled with catnip, and it moved all by itself!

One mouse. Two cats. It had no chance.

I’m just a little ashamed to say that I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Then Husband told me that when he had tried to get Eddie and the mouse back outside before it got loose in the house, Eddie had growled at him! So I was right about that. I know why he growled. He wanted to bring the mouse upstairs as a present for mummy and daddy wouldn’t let him. Petulant teenager, that’s all.

This morning was more peaceful. Having been awake since sparrow’s fart and feeling very tired, I crept downstairs to make a cup of tea, taking the luxury of bringing it back up to bed with me. I am most definitely not a morning person and need to wake up slowly you understand.

As I sat up in bed, propped up by lots of lovely, comfy pillows enjoying my cup of tea (all I needed was a bed jacket and I could have been like Lady Mary from Downton Abbey) Eddie suddenly appeared from nowhere and, with a happy little ‘chirrup’, jumped onto the bed padding across the duvet to greet me, tail straight up in the air as cats do.

Eddie Knows How To Relax(c) copyright Sherri Matthews 2013

He settled down for a cuddle right next to me (always on my left side for some reason!), nuzzling into me to ensure that I gave him lots and lost of attention. At these times, he gets so luvvy and purry and delighted that he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. He is the only cat I ‘ve ever known who lets us stroke with his paws without pulling them away, they are so gorgeous, soft, gentle little lion paws. That could kill a mouse.

These morning cuddles happen quite often but the only problem is that his timing is so bad because it always seems to be just before I have to get up! One centimeter I move, and that’s it, he’s gone.

But they are lovely while they last.

I do enjoy telling Husband about these morning cuddles with my little boy. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to repeat his response. I think he might be a little jealous.

But I know he loves him really.

Spring is on the way, take heart.