Friday 29 September 2017

5 Things I have learnt since moving here



Hey guys,

We are almost reaching our 1 year anniversary since landing here on the hallowed shores of California. We landed on October 20th, 2016. Now being October in a few days, 2017, I thought it would be time to take stock of how the year has gone.

Here are 5 things I have learned since moving here. 

  1. Driving on the wrong side of the road Or indeed driving at all. I am not a big driver. I tend to walk everywhere, tube it everywhere but when I arrived on these shores, many people said "Good luck with that plan!" and promptly left me to it. I tried. I walked D to school even if it was like 25 minutes away and I made it. A couple of times. Then inappropriate footwear kicked in and I drove. Everywhere. To town (which is a 10 min walk), to the shops, to the cinema ... did I mention to town? But what I have learned is, I can drive! (Hence anyone can drive. No seriously. Anyone.) Now, it might be simpler because all cars are automatic here, and lanes are wider here but hey. I'm taking credit where credit is due. Whatever the circumstance. Not only do I drive, I drive on the wrong side of the road! Take that driving instructor! I even go on the highway!
  2. Spelling messes me up. Grammarly helps. Zs and Ss. Mum or Mom? Acclimatised or Acclimatized? Who knows? I am in America now but my head hurts with spelling and then I start worrying about my readers judging me and I'm paralytic with spelling hell. Can I spell? No. Grammarly helps. My head still screams "It's ZED not ZEEEEEE- EEEEE." 
  3. Hot HOT weather. Years of being in the cold have taught me that no matter how hot the weather is, I'll still go out in it. Mad dogs and Englishwoman style. 40C (104F)? No problem! Let's walk! (see No.1) On the contrary, I'm freezing my butt off at 17C (62F) when in England that would be summer for most of us, grateful that the sun is out. I'm amazed how quickly I've acclimatized to hot weather. But I was born in Singapore where it feels like an oven most of the time. When it doesn't, it feels like soggy bread. And you wonder why I like it here.
  4. Friendliness. Now, this I take over ole' Blighty. You go into the shop or anywhere really (on a walk, in the park, in the CAR PARK) and everyone says hi, how are you, how are you doing. Then they move on. To the uninitiated, they would think that the Americans are genuinely interested and want their life story, but no. They are just being polite. They want to greet you, make small chit-chat and then leave. Don't make the mistake of telling them your life story. But equally, don't ignore them. Recently, H made a trip back to good old Britain (and Europe) and he sighed with relief when he wasn't being greeted (hounded was his word for it) with chirpy salutations upon entering a room, any room. "Oh," he said, "it was so good to be left in peace! I forgot how that felt!" Sourpuss I say. Some say the Americans are fake and really their greetings just roll off the tongue. They don't mean it. I'll take that over a glum face any day. Genuine or otherwise. I like that about the Americans.
  5. British friends keep me right. Recently, a British friend pulled me on the walking thing. She lives slightly further away from town than I do, and when I started to talk about driving into town and picking her up, I got the evil look and the obligatory nod of the head like she knew what I was talking about but didn't approve. And so I said, " We should walk huh?" and she simply nodded and that was that. That and it is still a biscuit, folks.
So here are the 5 things I've learned so far in my day-to-day. Maybe not terribly profound or insightful, but for the day-to-day, it works. I find being myself is the best thing and if 40C makes me feel like going out, I should drive rather than walk. Otherwise, walk where possible because it makes me feel like I am back in England. Unless wearing inappropriate footwear. Spelling is what it is, and I'll spell how I feel that day. Mum is becoming a lot more like Mom simply because the pronunciation lends itself to that spelling. But Ss will always win over Zs. Saying Hi to everyone, from America or otherwise, simply because it is a nice thing to do. There you have it, my 5 things.

(Still) Going strong in sunny California,
xoxo

Wednesday 20 September 2017

Nobody is cuter than you


So time runs away when you are having fun ... or solo parenting.

2 weeks solo parenting can drive anybody nuts. The constant questions, the mundane run-of-the-mill routine made worse by the child forgetting on a daily basis the routine, my love crumbling into a puddle of resentment and passive-aggressive frustration. But I digress.

So, I would be glad to say that my life was punctuated by one of those life-changing events during the time I was solo parenting. (I had another blog planned but this was too good to pass up - stay tuned for the planned one in the next post). A good friend I hadn't seen since I was 16 contacted me about 3 years ago. I was in London at that time and she, as I found out, was in Chicago. The last time I saw her, it was a tearful, frantic farewell after which she left for Australia. What was she doing in Chicago? We had known each other since we were 6 but had 1 year as friends when we were 16. 1 year was enough and then she was gone. We wrote, but without the ease of emails and facebook, we lost touch. We found each other on What's App and we texted sporadically during gymnastics classes and judo lessons. She had always talked about coming to London to visit but we have children and a visit was always slim to none.

Fast forward to October 2016 . We moved to California as you know. And suddenly, meeting up was a possibility. As I unpacked and tried to get my life back on track as my husband's and my son's lives grew stronger and stronger, suddenly I get a text asking if she could come stay for a few days. Just her, no husband, no children. Karma, fate, God's will, whatever you want to call it, the perfect timing was when I was going to be solo parenting (love that phrase! She introduced me to it!)

I have to admit that even though we had been texting, and got on really, really well, I was nervous. I had not seen her in 28 years. Texting the last 3 years was a boon and I thought that was all we would have. I was reduced to be 16 again when we didn't have the money or the means to come see each other. But of course, we weren't 16 anymore. But seeing each other was a whole different story. It was a bit like online dating. Would we get along (again) in person after all that digital to-ing and fro-ing?

I'll never forget the time I saw her at the airport.

If I didn't believe in God then, I do now. Coincidences? Nah. Karma, Fate, God's Will, Yes. There are some people in this world that you are meant to be friends with. Family even. She was one of them.

We had 4 days of laughter, great conversations, and heartwarming tears. We slept too little, laughed a lot and certainly ate too much. Waaaay too much. We confided secrets that we hadn't talked about for years. We shared hopes, dreams, fears, and frustrations. We bonded over Liam and Chris, over Asian food and produce at the Chinese supermarket. Where else better to bond over? It was like we were 16 again. In California. From Singapore to California. Via Australia. Via London.

There are few people in my life like this. I love going back to Singapore to see my few friends from school whom I have kept in touch with. The four of us eat our way through Singapore and we love it. Now, I have one in the US. I know that no matter where I am in the world, I have that bond, that friendship that is unbreakable.

Call me soppy, call me sentimental. But girlfriends we definitely need. We might have our husbands, God, great colleagues, but girlfriends? Girlfriends are for saying all those things we can't say out loud to the husbands, colleagues, neighbours. (To be fair, what we want to say ain't for their ears! Only for girlfriends!)

I am truly blessed. From Singapore to London to California and who do I meet up with? A long lost girlfriend from 28 years ago. Who would have guessed it? Not I. Certainly not I.




Saturday 19 August 2017

An unrequited love affair (It's not what you think)

Who shall I fly with next?
As a wise person once said, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. For summer this year, I flew back to Singapore to see family. We had just moved to California and I had never flown from the West Coast to South East Asia direct before. I prayed for a good flight. It could, as we all know, go all so badly wrong.

But the flight going out was uneventful (which is all we could want) and I was beginning to think this route wasn't too bad. I even began looking forward to the return flight simply because 1) I hate flying but 2) the flight out was actually enjoyable. It could be fun for once (I have been flying consistently for 20 odd years; it has never been fun). However, during the return flight, Singapore Airlines (SIA), whom we flew with, lost our luggage. When I finally got my luggage returned to me 4 days later, I discovered that a couple of items had been stolen from my luggage - a handbag and a fidgit spinner (of all things!).

Things go missing all the time. What's so special about this time?
This way to long haul flights

When I brought it up with SIA about the missing items in my luggage, I was really surprised and more than a little disappointed with their reaction - which was basically "not my problem". Well, first they took 4 weeks to investigate only to come back to say they had the bags in their sights the whole time (yeah right) and no, it couldn't have been stolen on their watch. (Question: when did they not have my bags? I was under the impression that before the bags were returned to me, it was under their duty of care!)

Well, I am disappointed, to say the least. I understand that mistakes get made and luggages go missing. I even understand that items get stolen. But to be shrugged off just like that made me feel undervalued by an airline which I had been loyal to all these years. Why was I so unnerved? Airlines have a bad rep for this sort of thing. Was there more to it than just lost items?

I don't know about you, but if you travel as much as I do, especially constantly flying home to see family, the airline is your partner. And in a partner, you want understanding, leeway, a bit of give and take (ok, a lot!), sympathy and empathy. It's a personal journey in more ways than one, each and every time. I have been flying consistently for about 20 odd years now, since I went to school in the UK, where I stayed for university, stayed for work and finally stayed for marriage. Previous to that, my parents had always chosen SIA, because they believed in them, found them safe and reliable. I have been a loyal partner and customer through and through. I stayed true when they were just starting up, I stayed true when the chips were down. I even stayed true when I felt they were lacking.

What's different now?

Will I fly away? Will they care?

So much has happened in the last year. We moved to California, to a place literally halfway around the world from my family in Singapore. When they would visit us often in London, California is just that bit too far and that bit too unfamiliar. My return journey to Singapore seemed all that more important or else I was going to lose touch with them.

This year's journey back to Singapore was joyful and painful - a close cousin's 1 year death anniversary, my best friend's son about to start school, a grandmother so old she can hardly recognise me as she sinks into dementia, hanging out with cousins who are like sisters, spending time with my nieces and talking to my brother again, hanging out with a special aunt who is 85 (!), and of course spending days on end at the market and doctors' appointments with parents. I get once a year to experience all these, a kind of fast forward if you will. I feel the passage of time acutely as it takes its toll on family and friends, simply because I am not there on a daily basis to experience each milestone. How many more of these do I have? To top it all off, the item that was taken was a gift from my parents. I loved the bag they gave me - not because it was a bag but because of what it represented, the memory that came with it. It wasn't about the value. It was about the kind words they could have said instead of "we advise our customers not to pack anything valuable in checked in luggage". It was about a gesture of kindness they could have extended. I believed in them so much, I never thought they would lose my luggage, nor did I believe that I would have anything stolen from it while on their watch. And even after all of that, I still believed in them so much that I thought that in my moment of need, they would be sympathetic and kind. And those cost nothing.

Silly me.

So when I needed them most, SIA could not deliver. There wasn't a helping hand or a kind word to acknowledge my pain and frustration. Even BA and Virgin did better in that respect (and if you know me, I am not a fan of BA: think no help with wedding dress!) The lack of sympathy was stark. SIA was professional, they conveyed their apologies, but there was no feeling, no love, no acknowledgement of my loyalty for them. I was but a number in their huge count of customers. I was essentially a nobody.

So there you have it. My unrequited love affair. 30 years to be exact. I felt used and betrayed. I have to once again search for a new partner in this journey of mine. There was a time when I would wax lyrical about them, sing their praises from the highest mountain ("They were different, not like the other airlines" I would say) but now I can no longer, hand on heart, recommend them to anyone. Is it because they lost my bags? No. Things happen. I get it. Rather, it's because they don't seem to care. They don't love me like how I loved them.

Am I too old to start again? Do I have too much vested in this relationship? Were my expectations too high? All these thoughts race through my mind. And the final thought? Silly me. It is, after all, a corporation. A money making one. I am only a customer, a nobody. I thought they were different, but actually, they are all the same. Even my beloved airline. I should expect no less.

Maybe it is time to move on, harden my heart, expect that difficult things will come. Family will get older, people move on. The journey will be uphill no matter who I fly with or where I live. I have to learn to expect that. And relationships do fall apart.

Lots of love
from sunny California xoxo

PS: Just in case you are wondering if a corporation should care, I highly recommend a book called "What would Google do?" by Jeff Jarvis (on sale at Books Inc now). It is exactly on point and the answer is YES, corporations should care, for their customers and bottom line. If they think these are mutually exclusive, well, Dell will say otherwise. Ironically, the crew on board was the best I have ever experienced. The head steward and his team were brilliant, making us feel as comfortable as we could. Kudos to them for taking the initiative and being really, really responsible and great!

Tuesday 8 August 2017

Running on full

Here is a post that I meant to have publish when I was in Singapore. But it never seemed like the right time. I thought I'd post it now anyway because it is well ... relevant. Thanks to my friend Lia Choi who reminds me that I still have an audience! I hope you enjoy it.

Credit: Tatinis; Wong Hoy Cheong, ‘Re:Looking’, 2002-2003 (with a simplified installation in collaboration with NGS, 2016), 2003-2004. Video in collection of Singapore Art Museum. Installation commissioned by National Gallery Singapore in 2016.
I step out this morning for a run. It is 7.30am and the temperature is already in its 80s (29 degrees Celsius) even though the sun is barely up. I dread to think what later on in the morning will be like, let alone the afternoon. I live on an estate that used to belong to British expats as far back as the 1950s.The street names are distinctly British, you would be forgiven to think that we lived in Britain. I run past Bloxhome Drive, Brockhampton Drive, Kensington Park Road, Muswell Hill, Clifton Drive, Stokesay Drive, Penhurst Drive, Cardiff Grove, Mountbatten Road, Portchester Drive and St Helier's Avenue. The houses are bungalow style, built in the 1950s. In London, I would turn my nose up at houses built in the 1930s. too new, we would say. Too modern. Here, we find them too old. Modern is good. It is comforting yet disturbing at the same time.

Serangoon Gardens is lovely; almost like a little British village. It was built for British officers in Singapore in the 1950s. I can walk to the village, restaurants and bars, cafes and spas dot the area, every possible bank we need is available. A British style village in north Singapore. The food is amazing, the atmosphere congenial.

Later on, I visit the newly opened National Gallery of Singapore, formerly the Supreme Court. British architecture at its finest, it conveys the majesty and power that is the British. Spanning the length of the Padang (Malay word for field, a tad bit bigger in this case), a field about the size of 3 football fields for parades and national celebrations in the middle of town, it is an imposing figure. I remember it as the Supreme Court. I attended my first court case here as a young lawyer, and appeared before a judge in his chambers with my pupil master as well as a high court case. I remember the high vault ceilings and the twists and turns of the darkened corridors. I remember the pomp and ceremony that went with it. Now, they are strategically lit, best face forward; no darkened hallways, no ghosts lurking in the closets. An installation with an ancient sign that says  "Judges Chambers" grace the quadrangle together with the judge's throne and an old TV. I stifle a laugh at the indignity of it all. Now, anyone can sit in that seat.

A new supreme court was built, next to the old, designed and built by none other than a British firm. An ultra modern, flying saucer top behemoth, it cuts an imposing presence in the middle of town. The old and the new, both British, next to one another. I cannot resist the urge to go in for a walk around but I don't. I leave it for the next time.

A British friend working in Singapore asks why we don't change the names? It is ridiculous to still salute to a higher authority, especially when that higher authority no longer governs. But I don't see the need to; it is part of our history, our heritage. So much around belonged/belongs to the British. We can't deny it. And I don't think we should. It is part of us now. We can't deny that. And it has shaped us, whether we like it or not. In a way, the Empire is our history too. That we were once part of this dubious legacy, shameful though it may be. It has given us a lot as well, a rich legal system, robust and mature, architecture that I marvel at, tea time that my aunt still adheres up to today, not to mention Bank Holidays (still don't get that). Maybe we would have survived without them, but I
think it has given us a jump start. Otherwise we would remain a small fishing village. Who knows?

We have survived against all odds (and I mean all odds). We come up to National Day, the eve of that auspicious day when we declared independence and had to hope for the best because, frankly, the future looked bleak. And yet, here we are today. Says a lot I think.

Love lots from (still) sunny Singapore xoxo

Friday 21 July 2017

Jetlag: the downside to travel

Yin Yang of Desserts. Toufu Fa and Chin Chow from Kim Keat Hawker Center. Yum. 

I have been back a week now and I am still jetlagged. I have never done this route before - Singapore to San Francisco - and the jetlag hits me hard. I find myself falling asleep in the middle of the morning, after raring to go at 4am, collapsed on the sofa as if under sedation or a coma. I can see myself asleep but I cannot wake. My child is left gleeful, watching TV till I can finally rouse myself to make lunch.

I find this weird. I am in a dream world and I am walking as if on a cloud. My feet don't feel like it touches the ground.

It is at this time, weird dreams come to me. Human sized crabs hold me in a vice like grip, Chinese speaking aliens and oh, not to mention my old bossand my old job in the old law firm I used to work in. I got a promotion though. What does that mean? What brought that?

Malay Food at Kampong Glam. Haji Maimunah on Jalan Pisang
I am at least glad to escape the heavy hawker food in Singapore but just over a week after returning, H says, 'Shall we go to Indo?' an Indonesian restaurant serving Roti Prata, Tauhu Teloh, Popiah and Duck Capitan and I capitulate, neh, CAVE and say yes. I guess you can take the girl out of Asia, but you can't take Asia out of the girl. Onwards ho! And damn this jetlag!

lots of love from
Sunny California xoxo

PS: Won't complain about the outdoors here though. Ironically I am relishing being outdoors here. Singapore was WAAAAAY too hot and sticky for that.

Wednesday 12 July 2017

Food Obsession - Asian Style

Tauhu Teloh from Haji Maimunah on Jalan Pisang (literally Banana Road)


As I write this, I am rolling around on a (very) full belly, having eaten yet another amazing meal. This time, with my cousins who are sweethearts and a source of comfort for me. I decide that I am unable to eat anymore, but always find space for more delicious food that, of course, I haven't yet tried. This time we feast at Haji Maimunah on Jalan Pisang (which means banana road by the way, a former one Michelin star food court with unbelievably lemak (meaning coconutty but also meaning tasty) curries, saucy fried chicken and spicy beef.

In Asia, the way to catch up with someone is to makan - eat. It is the breaking of the bread, a sharing of space with a brethren, a loved one, that shows that you care and want to be with them. Eating has always been the favourite past time of South East Asians as a way to be sociable and feel loved.

And today, that is what I felt. Lots of love and lots of care. It is fabulous catching up with family, and I feel very blessed to be a part of a big one. Once, I hated the idea of having a big family, of interference, of loud comments on issues that I felt weren't their business. But with age, I realise that they are a source of comfort, a source of strength and support. When I am at a loss of what to do, I go to them for advice, they provide me with a point of view that no others will have because they are family. They will understand how the family will respond. They are practical and kind.

I return to the States the day after tomorrow. It is a hard journey to make. I am not sure why this journey is more poignant, more difficult to make than others. The lure of adventure, of pastures new is less attractive. Perhaps it is a reminder of our mortality as we grow older. We mourn the death of a cousin, their sister, who died last year at 53. Young and all too soon. The original makan queen, we are 4 even now - always reminded of her wherever we go. My parents are frailer, slower and less steady. I could give it all up for the comfort of the home.

Still. Needs must and the means to return has not presented itself. I still love my life and lifestyle in California. The road ahead will present itself, I believe if I really want it. And if it doesn't, there is a reason. Forcing the issue doesn't help. In the meantime, life is a journey and I am going along for the ride.

For the moment, I am rubbing my full, full belly praying for a salad.

Lots of love from
Sunny Singapore xoxo

Tuesday 20 June 2017

Queen Bees and Wannabes - Asian style



Queen Bees and Wannabes was a book I picked up a couple of months ago in California. I read it because I came across a review of that book, which said it was an accurate depiction of our trials and tribulations as females, the dynamics amongst our peers and how we relate to the outside world. I found it described my teen world exactly and my world in the school playground now as well.

D is off to holiday camp this week. We are in Singapore for 5 weeks, which is a pretty long time for a boy to be without structure. So I happily booked him in thinking that it would be a chance for him to get some R&R away from me, have some structure and for me to have some downtime.

What I didn't count on was the Queen Bees and Wannabes following me all the way to Singapore as well.

I see them first thing in the morning, a beauty parade of coiffed and freshly spruced women, all standing there in a row. From head to tow, they scream expensive - from their perfectly styled hair, down to their capri pants and heels. They are neatly turned out, with full on makeup and perfectly manicured nails. They stand literally in a row like a beauty parade as if to show off their expensive jewelry, expensive handbags and perfect makeup and clothing, in the melting heat at 7.30 am in the morning.

It screams expensive and brash to me, poor taste hitting me in the face this early in the morning. But ironically, I am the one being looked at. From the moment I step out of the car, they judge me. I can see their eyes following me - from my clothes to my car. What kind of car do I drive? What kind of bag am I carrying? What clothes am I wearing and how does my hair look? Then they look at D, to judge and see if he is good looking and whether he is pure Chinese or mixed race in order to determine whether my husband is a Chinese or a foreigner. They will judge me for who I marry, and make up tales about what it says about me.

I put on my sunglasses and laugh. It is hysterical that at a summer camp women are also competing. If I can be bothered, I would tell them that their kids are fat and need to lose weight, that they should pay more attention to their children because they cuss and swear like a truck driver and are mean spirited and bullies. And that all the money and expensive things in the world won't make them nice people, or valued members of the human race.

But I keep quiet and pretend that I don't notice their glances. I hurry D along and tell him to ignore them and their children who yell bad things at him, and to kick and stamp back when they kick and stamp on his feet. Bullies seldom like it when you push back and true enough, they back off and stop bothering him.

It makes me laugh that the school playground stayed with us in our 20s and 30s and still stretches into our 40s, 50s and 60s. It makes me laugh that even when we are discriminated against so badly we women can still be mean to each other instead of standing in solidarity and looking out for one another It makes me laugh that it is over such insipid things like looks and material wealth. Maybe one day we will look back and regret our actions. But then, maybe that day will never come.

Queen Bees and wannabes will never go away. Even at 7.30 in the morning in the melting heat of a small island state. But maybe especially in the melting heat of a small island state.

Tuesday 13 June 2017

From San Francisco to Singapore - our first journey home



The doors slide open and the air is hot and thick like molasses. Molasses, an American food, a product that only belongs there and nowhere else. And now it belongs to us. Molasses. Even the word is thick, wrapping around our tongues like how the humid air wraps around us and chokes us, refusing to let us breathe.

It is our first flight back to Singapore since moving to California. We haven't been home for one and a half years, the longest duration between visits. I feel all grown up flying that distance myself. The last time I did it, I was 13 and with my parents. I am excited, strangely, to go back, many questions answered, many conundrums solved by our move to San Francisco. I no longer feel angst, in doubt, fearful. Suddenly, I have a new outlook and my visit back to Singapore is eased by it. I am generous and forgiving. I don't mind bias or favourites. I no longer count the different ways my mother favours my brother. I generously allow her without anger or resentment. Like the flight, I feel grown up. My pettiness is laid to rest.

Day One: we run errands and buy our necessities. Then the unthinkable happens. D acquires a large gash on his large toe. With blood dripping on the shopping mall floor, we hobble down to the clinic, helped along by a kind stranger who offers to be our guide. She leads us through the complex maze of shoppers and shops to the lift and we ride down, holding on to D's toe for dear life, stemming the flow of ruby red blood, all the while praying that it isn't broken or needing the hospital. We stumble into the clinic and in a jumble of words blurt out our problem, all this while trying to keep the blood from dripping onto the pristine white floor. We fall into the treatment room, grateful for a bed for D, hoping that we wouldn't have to go to the hospital.

We are in luck; after cleaning the wound, and examining it, the hospital isn't required. It can be dealt with in the clinic. We heave a sigh of relief and cling to the doctor's every word, drinking it up like nectar from the gods. We want to believe desperately that it will be alright and that this is where the trouble ends.

D is stitched up and hobbles back to the car. Singapore clinics are efficient. We are there for only an hour. We collapse into a heap in the car: jetlag and exhaustion overcome us. I am finally tearful.

Day Two: we rally the troupes. The cousins are brought in to soothe the painful foot and the bored soul. They haven't seen each other in a year and a half but it was like only yesterday that they were together. They chat nineteen a dozen, taking quick short breaths in between for fear of losing more time. They cannot believe that they are together again and constantly rib each other, nudging one another as if to reassure themselves of each other's presence.

The cousins are the siblings that D longs for. He doesn't mind that they are girls when it is de rigueur to ignore the opposite sex. They weave invisible threads, like cosmic heirlooms, that bind themselves to each other. But it is so much more than the blood that binds them. Friends more than family, they cackle with laughter and giggle at lame jokes, all this while shoving and pushing each other in jest.

Day Three: my own cousins turn up. I need reinforcements too and they, like D's cousins, are more than just blood. We fall into step as if no time has passed between us. All but one, the eldest who passed away last year. I feel the loss keenly. She was a force to be reckoned with, but also the eldest out of all of us, the first to go. I, the modern woman, sought her opinion and approval for a lot of things. She was the leader of all of us and presided over us. She was too young to go. But like D's cousins, we have invisible threads that bind us, history at school and in the family that weaves this complicated web. We gossip, mixing friends from school and family stories, even though they are a decade older. We share inside jokes and muse over common understandings. They are more than family. They are friends too.

Day Four: more reinforcements arrive. S, my best friend turns up. And here, more than a friend, she is a sister. We can't stop laughing and trip over our words in a hurry to spit it all out. This is the time I regret the distance when usually I relish it. We hug each other and promise to meet again soon.

Day Five: we are home bound. But D is whining: when can we meet with Auntie S's boys? Again, the ties that bind are stronger. Auntie S's boys are like brothers to D. More than just friends again, they are family. The ties that bind S and I bind D and her boys too.

All the things that I used to mind, used to resent about coming back here seems to have melted away. I scan through my old blogs and shrink back at the resentment that radiated from them all those years ago when I visited. What has changed? I don't really know. Maybe it is age, maybe it is finally being released from London, maybe it is finally feeling like I am moving forward, that I can breathe again. That I can put the past behind and look to the future.

Whatever it is, coming home is a wonderful feeling now. I can see myself moving back here, growing old here. I see myself settling into a routine when I usually dislike routines, I see myself appreciating the little things unlike before when I used to be dissatisfied and unrelenting in trying to make fate bend to my will.

A broken foot which will hopefully mend soon. A broken heart that has been mended. Long may it last!



Sunday 28 May 2017

Teeth, the Tate and Touring

So I might be trying too hard with the alliteration but it works. Somehow. In that order too.

The week has been an ordeal with a bit of emergency dental surgery. But I muscle through it and decide to take a trip down to SFMOMA to see the Matisse/Diebenkorn exhibit. I have been to SFMOMA once all those years ago and liked it. And I like Matisse. So I jump at the chance to go even though I don't know much about Diebenkorn and I have just had surgery.

I wasn't quite sure what to expect but I enjoy (most of) it. The pain and tiredness aren't fun but like I said, muscle through it (anything to be in the city!). I didn't see the similarities between Diebenkorn and Matisse much but later on, I could see Diebenkorn's work coming to the forefront. He adored Matisse though never having met him and the influence is evident. However, I thought Diebenkorn's work came into its own when he wasn't trying to be like Matisse. I like his work when it was all on its own and no (obvious) influence of Matisse could be seen. But hey, what do I know? I am not an art critic, nor have I studied art. I just love wandering the hallways of galleries and museums. I am sure many would disagree with what I have just said, but that's what my first impressions are.

I can't help but compare. I saw Matisse at the Tate. I love the space at the Tate, and it just doesn't compare. I haven't had time to love the SFMOMA just yet. But I wander through to the 4th floor, then the 5th and then the 6th. And I think, there is more to this narrow brick building. Little hidden cubby holes and stairs that lead to more. Down the rabbit hole? Or up the witches' lair?

It is crowded, filling in the last few days of the exhibition before it ends on Monday. It is Friday and there are droves out to see this well advertised exhibition. I bite my tongue and make it through. Later on I find a balcony on the second floor, a wall of green, sculptures and two one way street signs. I am cheered by what I see, the wall of green brings a smile to my face and rest to my weary jaw (and feet).

I guess it isn't much of a trip to the city this time. I usually enjoy it a lot more but it is a long wait for the Bart and there are a lot of homeless people out. I feel bad, it reflects on me; I don't know how to act and I don't know what to do. I want to avoid them completely, I don't know how to help, I don't know how to make it better for them. I hurt I ache, I don't want to know.

Two days of sleeping. I collapse into a heap and I don't go anywhere. Then suddenly on Sunday, I feel better. H asks if I want to go to Alice's Restaurant and I go for a long ride in the sun up to Portola Valley through the winding roads up the hill and end up at Woodside. A biker's haven, a cyclists' rest space. Alice's Restaurant (http://www.alicesrestaurant.com/) serves as a resting place for bikers and cyclists. An old fashioned gas station (called Alice's Gas Station) sits next door. You know it's touristy when they are selling t-shirts. A lot of touring bikes stop here, the bikers in the their leather gear, headbands and sunglasses. Porsches and Maserattis fill the place too.


The breakfast menu is extensive, and so is lunch. We go early and thankfully we did. It is packed by the time we leave which is only 11.00am. The dungness crab benedict is lovely and the Belgian waffles with fruit and fresh cream ((lots and lots of it) are absolutely out of this world. Breakfast burritos for the geekie men go down a treat.




All that is lovely, but what I love best is the ride back. The sun shining through the Redwoods, we drive back down the winding road and I look up, seeing the green pass by. I stop for a moment and snap a picture. It stays with me, more than the stock photo I take of Alice. It seems to frame up nicely, my Alice in Wonderland lifestyle at the moment. I catch glimpses of my former life, mistaking people for the ones I knew back in the UK. Doppleganger type situation, I peep round the corner and I think I see people I once knew only to do a double take and realise it isn't them. It's funny, I have flash backs when I least expect it. So touring round Northern California, my neighbourhood, so wildly different to London is soothing. The green and the sunlight make me feel at home.





Friday 19 May 2017

Out and About ... and What's Free in Silicon Valley Part 2

Cantor Arts Center in Stanford University

So here is the follow up to last week's post. What's free in Silicon Valley Part Deux.

I am being constantly surprised by what is free around here. I am surprised by the generosity, their tenacity and love for their interests. I am cheered that there is such goodwill around even in such difficult times.

Love this piece of ancient China!
What did I see this week? I decided some 'me' time would be good. I wanted to see some of Palo Alto and its surroundings that was artistic and cerebral (not that hanging out with my 8 year old was not cerebral ... just in a different way!)

I heard that the Cantor Arts Center in Stanford is amazing ... and free believe it or not. It has two floors of art work, totally 20 galleries, and hosts the largest collection of Rodin's work outside of France. The Stanford family did love collecting and he did so for the benefit of the students and the public. If this sounds like too much work, or little ones are involved, there is a sculpture garden and some of Rodin's work are displayed there too, so that you can enjoy the art even if it means being outside. There is a cafe there as well for a break if needed.

The outdoor gallery of Rodin sculptures
Stanford is also worth a visit in and of itself. Wondering around campus is great, especially when the sun is shining and the breeze blowing through the palm trees. You could almost imagine being a student there, learning, absorbing, creating. All for about two seconds when you realise that you aren't young enough and energetic enough anymore! There are free tours to be had. A trip up the Hoover Tower is also worth it, for a bit of history and a lot of views. You can see all the way to the Golden Gate Bridge on a clear day. The docents are highly informative and if you are lucky you might be there when the bells are being played. This isn't free though and will set you back a princely sum of $4.

Glorious house and Garden. Thoroughly enjoyed it and worth the visit. And free!
The Gamble Garden
The other place that I had found was the Elizabeth F Gamble House and Garden. A house and garden open to the public in the middle of Palo Alto amongst the rich and famous? I had to see this. True enough, entry is free. When I arrived there was a private party being set up. But part of the gardens were still open and the flowers were in bloom. With the sun shining and the laughter in the garden, I told H that I wanted an occasion that we could celebrate so that we could book out the place! It was the perfect setting. The house was lovely too and reminded me of the old mansions and houses we visited in the UK replete with gardens to boot. Small enough to wonder around, you could spend a morning here and bring a picnic or a coffee. Some people were sunbathing amongst the flowers. It isn't far from the Rinconada Park and Junior Museum and Zoo that I spoke of last week either so combining the two would be a possibility.

There are many more things to do for free around here, museums, houses, galleries that I have yet to visit. There is still time. It will keep me busy! I will write about the others in due course but I hope that you enjoy what you could in Silicon Valley for free Part 2 for the moment.

For more things to do, see my post last week about What's Free in Silicon Valley Part 1






Saturday 13 May 2017

Out and about... and what's free in Silicon Valley Part 1

I was looking for something for D and I to do together after school and I happen to find a list of things that you could do with kids for free. I was surprised as to what you could for free around here. It's not a place known for being cheap or free.

We decide to investigate.

Fabulous Par
First stop, the Junior Museum and Zoo (https://friendsjmz.org/). It is a small place. Small and perfectly formed. The Museum bit is really science activities that allow kids to push buttons and bounce balls around, all in the name of science! The contraptions are old but wonderfully designed and D has a great time slotting balls into tubes and shooting them into the air. There are wheels to spin and levers to move. He is in Heaven and won't move from the spot.
Weaver birds climbing frame
When we finally make it to the zoo part, it is small, but thoroughly enjoyable. Most of the animals are rescued or bred in captivity from other zoos. They have a good selection of animals - golden weaver birds, snakes, spiders (yikes!), bats, ferrets, raccoons, peacocks, a GIANT turtle (that moved like the wind!), a bobcat, some ducks and rabbits and even a beehive! We are amazed by how well kept they all are and all this ithout charge (you could always make a small donation). We especially love the weaverbird exhibit. A play frame is built in, and you canclimb to the top to watch the birds! We thoroughly enjoy learning about the different animals and D takes a very keen interest in habitats and animal behaviour.
Here we are!
Rinconada Park

Afterwards, we hop over to Rinconada Park (http://www.cityofpaloalto.org/news/displaynews.asp?NewsID=118&TargetID=14)just behind the Museum and Zoo. This park has tennis courts, community swimming pools (one lap one play pool, both HEATED!), two playgrounds, barbecue areas and a massive field to lounge in. Zip wires, slides, swings, monkey bars! And with the sun shining, we t hink this what heaven feels like.

It's time to go. D wants to do some tennis and this means jumping over to Rosita Park (http://www.losaltosca.gov/recreation/page/rosita-park) the park near our home has tennis courts too. The tennis courts are free so all we have to do is go home, pick up our rackets and get changed! We have a game or three and after about 45 minutes, we are beat! Tennis courts are available for an hour at a time so we pack up and leave. The farmers' market is just starting and we want to get in on the action.
Los Altos Farmers' Market
We zip over to Los Altos town for the farmers' market (http://www.cafarmersmkts.com/los-altos-farmers-market/) that has just started. Spring time brings a whole host of farmers' markets to the area and I just love them!. The idea of food to table appeals to me and I like to meet the people who grow our food. Call me sentimental and old fashioned, but I like it that way. So I am well pleased when the farmers' market returns in Spring to our town.

The atmosphere is lively with a live music and smells of cooked food permeate our senses. I am salivating already with the thought of food food and more food! Organic strawberries, nuts and beans, artichokes, kale, and much more, all grown in my backyard (so to speak). I am loving it. There is also a kids' arts and crafts table to entice the little (and not so little!) ones to the market.

We buy some strawberries and eat them along the way as we  browse the stalls. D claims they are the best strawberries he has ever had in 'his whole entire life'! I try one and it's true, they are amazingly sweet and fresh. None like I have ever tasted before. There is a mixture of vegetable and fruit, meat, bread and cakes and fresh food being sold. After the strawberries, we head for the shaved ice and syrup, apparently a Hawaiian favourite. It's reminiscent of my childhood too in Penang and Singapore, were we get ice balls and shaved ice kacang. We get one to share and cool down as to continue to browse.

After picking up some fresh vegetables and fruit, we head on home, happy and satisfied. There are many more free things to do in and around my area, but I'll leave the rest for next week. It's been so much fun and all for free. I do love where I live!


Monday 8 May 2017

Golden Gate Park and a Japanese Tea Garden

Pagodas, ornamental and real ones.

 Finally!

In the last few weeks, we have manage to settle down and start enjoying life in the Bay Area. The unpacking is done and the house is (almost) in order. We know where to get groceries from and who to call if the house falls down.

We (meaning I - Husband is a pro in navigation and driving) navigate our transport options to San Francisco and find that going on a weekend is easy. Going early is the key. Californians here start late. 10.00am is a good time to arrive in San Francisco and so we decide to explore a little. We did a couple of trips (read my first foray into local San Francisco here http://www.davestravelcorner.com/journals/destination-north-america/far-madding-crowd-half-day-jaunt-san-francisco/) but on our second trip in, the one place that caught my eye was the little Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park.

Golden Gate Park (https://goldengatepark.com/) is wonderful. There are so many things to do here, including bird watching (the latest foray was the arrival of the blue herons that drew huge crowds), pedalo-ing (peddle boating to the British uninitiated), rowing, museum visiting, outdoor gallery browsing and general relaxing with outdoor music to boot. The California Academy of Sciences (www.calacademy.org) is here as is the de Young Museum (https://deyoung.famsf.org/) (which incidentally has a children's programme, great cafe and garden that houses some amazing sculptures and installations to wander through if you don't wish to pay the very high entrance fee). There is also an amazing San Francisco Botanical Gardens (www.sfbotanicalgarden.org/if that tickles your fancy.

So. It's everything in London but in one huge park. To top it off, if you come early enough, street parking is free all day.

We were on a scouting mission never having been the park. I knew the CA Academy of Sciences was a whole day affair (and then some!) so we decided to leave that for another day. What I really wanted to see was the Japanese Tea Garden (http://japaneseteagardensf.com/). We had missed the gardens (and the park) a few years ago when we visited and I really wanted to see this Japanese oasis in the middle of San Francisco.

It was relatively busy around 11.00am on the Saturday we visited but not overwhelmingly so. (We noted the crowds queuing later when we left around 1.00pm and realised that earlier was better!) The Japanese Tea Gardens is one of the more affordable places to visit in the park, coming in at $8 per adult and youth (with a lower cost if you are an SF resident) and $2 for a child between 5 and 11 years old.

Drum Bridge
The garden is about 5 acres big but you wouldn't feel it from the landscape and architecture. The little pathways you follow, streams and bridges you encounter, with trees and shrubbery beautifully designed to allow peace and tranquility to automatically wash over you when you enter is sublime. The garden is divided into different parts with little gardens, streams, brooks and ponds guiding you through the park, stone pagodas and actual ones dot the garden to make you stop and say a prayer or meditate for a few seconds. The significant areas are the Drum Bridge (worth a climb), the Rock Garden, the Tea House and the "Treasure Tower" Pagoda.

A bit of history as to why there is a Japanese garden in the middle of SF: The tea garden was originally created as a “Japanese Village” exhibit for the 1894 California Midwinter International Exposition, the site spanned about one acre and showcased a Japanese style garden.  When the exposition was over, Makoto Hagiwara, a landscape artist and immigrant, found a way to turn the exposition into a permanent park and expanded it to its present size, pouring all his effort and wealth into it. He became caretaker of the place and upon his death in 1925, his children became its proprietors and caretakers. as he had become. Hagiwara's contract with John McLaren, superintendent of the Golden Gate Park, gave him and his family the right to live on the grounds for a century but a dark part of history overshadows this beautiful gardens. During WWII, anti-Japanese sentiment arose and Hagiwara's family were evicted from the gardens and sent to an internment camp. After the war, no compensation was awarded to them. In 1952 the gardens were re-opened and in a spirit of reconciliation, the Hagiwara provided minimal assistance in the beatification of the gardens. 

The garden is truly an oasis of calm. Even with the throngs of people watching the koi in the pond, walking among the beautiful cherry blossoms or visiting the karesansui (Japanese Rock Garden), it still puts you in a beatific state of mind. I can imagine the Hagiwara family taking tea in the tea house perched at the entrance overlooking the park and it gives you a sense of joy when taking tea in such wonderful surroundings. 
Also known as the Wishing Bridge. 

Golden Gate Park has an amazing amount of offerings and more than one visit is definitely required. For the moment, the Japanese Tea Garden lingers in my mind and makes me want to go back to linger a while longer at the karesansui or watch the koi swimming the pond.

*there is no food sold in the park, only snacks and tea at the tea house (a sit-down affair), which will require a wait for service and if the small tea house is full so do bring snacks for your little ones (and the not so little ones) to avoid having to exit the park early! If you need to leave, the de Young Museum cafe is just round the corner and doesn't require entry into the museum to enter the cafe. Also, food trucks nearby sell a whole host of takeaways if you fancy a lie down in the sun and listening to the free music by a busker. 

Sunday 26 March 2017

Both East and West - Where Do I Belong?

I circle back to this theme a lot - of belonging, of where our home is, of who we are.

Recently, my son said to me, 'Mummy (still with his British accent), I like it here in the US better than the UK because there are many more different kinds of people.'

I have to admit that it has been an easy enough transition here to the US, and I have been waiting for the penny to drop. Where is the snag (other than the mountains of paperwork to fill in!)? I am told I live in a bubble, but this bubble proves to have expats and locals who are warm and friendly, who immediately made (and continue to make) us feel welcome here. I've been fortunate to have friends who have introduced us to their friends via the internet. There are some uses to the internet besides cute doggy videos!

The UK has been a bit of a difficult journey for me. Fitting in has never been easy there. Was what I had the best it could be? Probably. Yet, it didn't quite feel like home in a way. Maybe I knew in my bones that Brexit was coming. (If only it were that easy).

But then, I unconsciously thought I was European just the other day. (Yes, the E word we won't be able to use soon). What made me think I was European? There must have been some sense of belonging to a greater collective, an identity there that I had acquired over the last 16 years in the UK. I will miss being in Europe if we ever do leave, I'm not sure of the reason. Politicians will have their high brow reasons for not leaving. For me, it's just a sinking feeling of rejection and hurt.

I also see myself as Southeast Asian. The brash, the loud, the uncouth. The kind, the gentle, the welcoming. Don't stand on ceremony. Feed everyone. Welcome them in whatever the time.

So what am I? And where do I belong? A Singaporean Chinese who is European who is trying to figure out America (albeit California, which some people say isn't quite America!). I figure this time round, it's on me. This time, I make my mark.

Can I be both East and West?

In my mind, it shouldn't be the East vs West concept anymore, that there can be an 'in addition to'. We make our own rules. Perhaps with all the mashables around, we can mash them together to produce something unique, new and appealing. An inclusive perspective, that we can be both East and West. Not a division, but an inclusion.

Love from sunny California xoxo

Happy Mothering Sunday to all in the UK! I miss those daffodils!

Saturday 11 March 2017

A Love Letter to George


Dear George,

Favourite time of the year for George!
We miss you very much, our dearest puppy. It was exactly a year ago that you passed on. We have thought about you every single day since you went. We miss you terribly much, the pain in our hearts is excruciating but we are so happy that you are no longer in pain, and we are so happy that we had you in our lives.

We finally moved to California! After all those years of talking about it and moving around in England, you never really thought it would happen. But maybe you did, and you were too tired to do this journey with us. You would like California - we are near beaches and chips! Your two favourite things up in Newcastle! I know since we moved to London, you have hardly seen a beach (not a real one anyway; a beach with pebbles isn't quite a beach ...) and definitely less chips as the chippie isn't on your walking route anymore. But here, we have sandy beaches, many of them all in one stretch! And chips that are nice and crunchy on the outside and oh so fluffy on the inside. And sunshine George! The sunshine! Oh, you would love lying in the sun! I remember how in England you would find even the smallest sliver of sunshine in the cold, damp, wet weather and lie in it, sunning yourself. It was like you were solar powered; I just loved watching you snooze and doze there. Here, there is sunshine all around, and you could lie around in it all day.  We have a bigger house here for you George, and bigger fields not to mention mountains and streams to forge. I know you don't like streams too much having fallen into a lake once and thinking you were going to drowning (we wouldn't have let you darling George, and anyway, it was mostly the shock. You found your feet after!). Daddy and I did laugh so, poor George! I know you didn't think it funny because you wouldn't go near a body of water forever after that. But you would paddle in the sea and you loved how the waves touched your paws, letting them lap gently on your toe-claws! You would love the sea here and you would find it a treat to bark at the huge crashing waves! I wonder what you would have thought of the seals that are here too, the otters and the birds of prey that circle up ahead. It would have been so exciting for you!

I am sure there is sunshine where you are now George, all the time. With a cool floor for you to lie on and your nice comfy bed to sleep in. We still have Sheepsies with us and your blankets that you used to love lying on and colonising, stealing them from us (we always forgave you), waiting for you. We miss you awfully much puppy, and we will see you over the rainbow bridge some day. In the meantime, keep that spot warm for us.

Love, your family.
xoxoxo

Friday 3 March 2017

My Yoga Teacher is 80 years old ... and all the possibilities life has to offer


I went to Yoga class today and it has been a while since I've been so I chose an easier class - Gentle Yoga  - to get back into it. Can I tell you it wasn't as gentle as it sounds? Can I also tell you my yoga teacher is 80 years old with a metal hip? She looks closer to 65/70 but she mentioned that she is 80. I just love it. I know what I'm going to be when I grow up. I'll be her just coz who would have thought at 80 to be a yoga teacher.

When you are younger, they tell you you are too young for things you want to do, and when you are older, they tell you you are too old to be able to do anything. It's never the right time for anything really if you think about it. Hang gliding one day I think ....

I wasn't sure what I was going to write about. I think my last post was just over a month ago, for Chinese New Year. Since then, settling in in California has brought (more) paperwork, (more) soul searching, (less) thinking and (more) doing, Because food (read: Chinese) isn't as good as London, well some foods anyway, I've been cooking up a storm. I made chilli sauce for the first time, and that was interesting! I don't know if anyone will say it's chilli or good but the husband is eating it! And hopefully some Singapore curry paste whatever that may hold! I am trying to think of endless possibilities rather than the negatives that you can find in every situation.

So, I haven't been on here much and people have asked 'Where's your next post?'. I've also read about how blog posts should mean something, not just be about rambling thoughts, so I thought each blog post I do should have some sort of a meaning or purpose, even if randomness is the point! You don't want me to be going on about how wonderful life is here in NorCal all the time (which it isn't by the way : torrential rains and landslides everywhere. Plus side: Water! We are out of a drought hurray! .... now for the next year ...)

So recently I signed up to DailyOm (don't ask). And if you haven't realised, I do have a penchant for the supernatural and clairvoyance, my lawyer side is so totally in denial. And I signed up to their daily horoscopes. They sent me my first daily horoscope, which truly isn't a horoscope (clever). It talked about the definition of success and how we defined success so I thought I'd share briefly. What's your definition of success? Is it by how much money we earn, or by the relationships we have? We could have tons of the former stuff, but how are we doing with the latter? Sure, we could have legal justice, but what about moral obligations? How are we with our friends and family?

So back to the yoga class. My 80 year old teacher was amazing, I'm definitely going back. I do have an affinity with the elderly. I like them very much, and I love their stories. Oh and my grandma back in Singapore turned 100 today woohoo! She is the jolliest most sanguine woman I know. Forgiving too. And she has had a tough life! That woman has a lot of calm in her! My wonderful neighbour back in London turned 90 last month as well. Her stories of war time in Wimbledon has made me see Wimbledon in a different light.

The elderly or the older folk should I say (elderly sound so droll - like they are different species!) have a lot to offer and their stories are great. I love the stories my grandmas told me about their childhood and what they played with, what kind of life they led. I don't know what it is that attracts me to them but it makes me feel calm and happy when I listen to them talk about their childhood. Their faces light up and their eyes glisten with a kind of faraway look of a different time. Memories maybe, of a bygone era only they know about and understand.

So leaving you with this? How do you measure success? Money? Property? Relationships? What's your pull towards? Is it enough to be surrounded by people you love and have great relationships with or is it about collecting more stuff?

Lots of love from (now) sunny California xoxo

Friday 27 January 2017

Gong Xi Fa Cai! Heralding in the Year of the Rooster 2017!

Gong Xi Fa Cai! Happy New Year to one and all! 

I have been asked to be a guest blogger on a new blog started by some new friends of mine in the Bay Area, Just Love. A blog meant to break barriers and tear down walls (not build them up!) set up by the recent events in the world.

I am recounting Chinese New Year as I see it, 8,500 miles away, from California to Singapore via London! I hope you enjoy the blog post and to also subscribe to this wonderful effort to try and bring more compassion, more giving and more love to the world!

Wishing everyone a wonderful year of the Rooster! To your health and your wealth for the coming year!

https://justlove.blog/2017/01/27/meet-the-neighbors-fern-lee/ 

With love from
Sunny (finally!) California xoxo 

Sunday 1 January 2017

Heralding a new year in a new country

Happy New Year one and all! Wishing you a peaceful, less stressful and joyous 2017!

So many have recounted 2016 as a horrible year  - Annus Horribilis - which in Latin means "horrible year", popularised by the Queen in her Christmas speech years ago. Indeed, it hasn't been good in terms of celebrity deaths. Alan Rickman, David Bowie, Victoria Wood, George Michael, Carrie Fisher (aka Princess Leia), Debbie Reynolds, Prince. Just to name a few.

A few people have said it's such a sign of the times (huh? What does that mean ... anyway ...) that we are all living in each other's pockets and we take celebrity deaths personally like we are their friends. But the truth is we remember these celebrities probably because they were in a film or released a particular album or song that reminded us of our youth, our past, a significant time in our lives. Who can forget the really terrible yet wonderful movie Labyrinth that featured David Bowie? Or Alan Rickman in the Die Hards, as Sheriff of Nottingham in the really cheesy Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, Truly Madly Deeply, Love Actually, or Last Christmas, Careless Whisper or Wake Me Up Before You Go Go by good ole George. We can't remember what we had for dinner last night, but we can all remember where we were and who we were with probably when we went to watch those films or when the songs were released. In one way or the other, these celebrities touched our lives. We all hold a memory significant to each of their song or show.

2016 was hard for me too in terms of family and friends' deaths, Some years, you get more than others. We are after all growing older, we can't stop death. And compared to the horrors of Syria, Berlin, Turkey, we all have viewed enough trauma in the world
 to wonder what humanity is doing to itself, and how we can be so cruel.

But 2016 was also the year we moved to a new country in search of new adventure. Even despite everything, I can say that I am immensely blessed. We have been here two months and we have the most wonderful scenery, weather and made some new friends pretty damn quick. We have found a wonderful house to live in, unpacked in the nick of time (Christmas), and live in a wonderful neighbourhood near a great little village. Life as we know it, is good.

So what do I take away from 2016?

We can't control how things work out. We can't control our own lives. We can go with the flow and just take what comes and make the best of it. We remain true to ourselves and do our best work when we have purpose. We remember with fondness all that we have lost, celebrate their lives and in turn celebrate our own as well. And we are to enjoy this life that we have been given.

Maybe it is sentimental guff. But in this new year, I strive to be true to myself, and do good work. Not be swayed by what is popular, or who it pleases. Try not to control everything and try and make good decisions. Oh and trust my own judgement. No one else's is as good as my own when I am deciding what's good for me.

We ended 2016 on what I hope is a high note. We had some lovely new friends over, seen some stunning, wondrous scenery that could make you (and have made us) weep, and enjoyed such lovely family time together. 2017 will be what it will be, but I choose to celebrate my life however it turns out.

Here are some wonderful pictures of our Central Coast road trip.

Happy New Year and may 2017 bring peace and joy to you and your family.

Lots of love from sunny California xoxo