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What’s Right About Summertime?

Summer is here at last, whether it looks like it or not. With daylight seeping through the blinds at just after half past four these days, who can second-guess it?

Might as well embrace the early mornings and the extended evenings, even if the days do mimic Southwest Georgia in the fresh spring, rain or shine.

Ever present in the moment, I’ve learned to take summer as it is. Never mind what is wrong with it, I focus on what is right with it. Though subjective, at the top of  many lists will be holidays and the sporting events that often bring as much pain as they do gain for players and fans alike. As such, I like a good holiday now and then but don’t tend to follow too much sport. Yet there is one that lands in my top five things to do in London in the summertime.

  • Catch a pro tennis match. Not much for queuing in the sunshine or rain, I haven’t been to Wimbledon since my early expat days. Still waiting for that corporate invitation…hint, hint. In the meantime, however, I’m nearly as happy to attend the championship at Queen’s Club, also in West London. This year the world number two, Andy Murray, went away with a record breaking win—the only player to win Queen’s five times. Congrats Andy, though we didn’t have tickets for the final event. Just as well as Sunday was Father’s day and we had a family day in, but we did enjoy a day of tennis on Friday, an intimate witness of tennis on the lawn, and true British summertime fun with the good friends who invited us
  • Attend the summer exhibition at the Royal Academy. This presents an opportunity to not only see some fantastic art from emerging artists and established ones, but also a chance to snap up some of it. Life DrawingThis year, having been invited for a private viewing as a corporate guest, I jumped at the opportunity to participate in a life study class before viewing the art. Though I was born with artistic ability to draw, I haven’t nurtured it over the years and consequently am as amateurish, well, as an amateur. Never mind, it was a great to focus on the reality of the moment.
  • Walk about London without a jacket or a coat. Haven’t done that one since summer became official but a couple of weeks ago, at least two days in a row, I, alongside scores of others, sashayed about as if in the South of France. Never mind the holiday in sunny Spain, Florida and the likes, might as well catch the rays in London as and when they come. Sunglasses, sandals, sun cream. Ready!
  • Eat outdoors. Now there is a real southern experience if I have ever heard of one. Growing up in Georgia, we often had barbecues in the backyard or picnics in the park. In London with the inclement weather, eating outdoors cannot be taken for granted. Never mind that I no longer have a back garden. So when the opportunity hits, we take to the balcony or head out to a restaurant with plenty of outdoor space.
  • People watch. What makes people so special to watch during the summer? Everything, everything and everything, encompassed in the atmosphere ranging from exciting to easy going. Whether on a bus, a bicycle or in a Bentley, ladies and gents step out in their glad rags, come rain or shine, for the summer garden parties, summer events such as Ascot and Henley, or private functions including weddings.

So what else is right about summer? Do tell, right here on sonjalewis.com.

 

 

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Living the Castle Life in England

Castles… England has much to offer in castles. Actually, all of the United Kingdom does, but for this reason precisely as well as the fact that I’ve had the occasion to hang out at only a few castles, if you will, over the years, I’m keeping this blog to England. Most recently this weekend, while celebrating a momentous family event, we stayed at Langley Castle Hotel and then toured Alnwick Castle, both in in Northumberland.

For castle buffs and historians, I do realise that Langley is not of the same category or class, so to speak, as the likes of Alnwick and the more well-known Windsor or perhaps Warwick Castle, all of which I have visited.

And thank goodness it isn’t or we wouldn’t have been allowed to stay there. Still, Langley has an intriguing history, built in 1350, during the reign of Edward III, and has been the estate of Lords and Ladies over the years. Sadly, two of the Lords were executed, at the Tower of London, having taken part in the Jacobite rising of 1715. Told you, intriguing history.

Anyhow, after this, the crown confiscated the property and later in the 1880s a local historian purchased it and saw to keeping its architectural integrity and all the rest.

Enough history to get the flavour of the Langley today—a fantastic example of tradition in the present and I hope with a future. Highlights of the castle hotel include the swish rooms with alcoves overlooking the beautiful grounds and its red-carpeted traditional spiral staircase.

Having lived like a Lord and Lady of the manor for a short spell, we went off to see how a modern day Duke and Duchess live. Owners of Alnwick Castle and its gardens, the 12th Duke of Northumberland, Ralph Percy, and his wife, Jane Percy, live large.

From the beautiful gardens, which the Duchess is best known for redeveloping to the grand castle itself, to which the couple have done extensive restorations and repairs, Alnwick is a thing of the past, as well as one of the now. As such the noble couple vacate it for seven months of the year, opening it to thousands of visitors daily.

Highlights include the 350 cherry blossoms in bloom, the sprawling stairwells leading to the staterooms and the rooms themselves with the many paintings and wall hangings. And if you are a Downton Abbey fan, which I reticently admit I am not, you’ll appreciate the exhibition from the filming that took place at Alnwick.

Back to life as I know it, which is not bad, not bad at all, I must say I rather enjoyed the castle life, if only for a short spell.

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When Your Body Talks, Best To Listen

From day one we are told to eat right for good health, by our parents, our food administrators, doctors and so on. Oddly, however, it is not always clear what is right. Most recently, Dr Mark Hyman in his Eat Fat Get Thin challenges the long held belief that fat is not right and to prove his point says, in so many many words, let your body do the talking. It will tell you what’s right.

Usually not one for such fad diets, I  jumped on board and recently completed the  21-day challenge, which is actually a total body reset. Whose idea was this anyhow? Actually it was Paul’s, having read about it in The Sunday Times, his holy grail of newspapers.

Kicking and screaming he came along for the exercise, too, and I think he’s glad he did. As for me, not sure where I got the wherewithal to do it, considering the speed of life nowadays, but yahoo, I did it, and am seven pounds lighter and a couple of inches thinner, too, and much wiser about the food chain.

On the matter of the former, my father, bless, worried that I didn’t have any weight to lose. Nothing to speak of, I admitted, but I had gained a few toxins that were seriously weighing me down. The truth, however, I confessed, was that weight was the last thing that attracted me to the diet, it was the body reset that got my attention.

Having indulged in comfort foods, containing gluten, which I’m intolerant of, while spending more time than usual in the US, I had begun to feel a bit foggy again. Who can resist Sara Lee coffee cake, Pillsbury cinnamon rolls and anybody’s honey buns and… you get the picture.

Thus, the 21-day plan was just what I needed to tune up, so to speak. Like any regime that proposes a certain outcome, there were food restrictions but not what you think—no calorie counting to speak of, no starvation at all. Thank Goodness. But off the menu were most of the normal culprits: refined carbohydrates, gluten, dairy, processed food and sugar. But fat, normally, their associate, was the star of the menu, good fat that is.

Dr Hyman’s book is about eating more good fat to not only get thin but also to feel better and prevent wretched illness, including heart diseases, cancer, dementia and diabetes. Make no mistake about it, I’m not in a position to endorse EFGT, it’s far too involved for that after one short stint with the programme, but I can say this: it worked for us. Also, it blows some of the food myths out of the kitchen such as that fruit juices are as healthy as the fruit they come from and that nuts (pecan, brazils, almonds, walnuts, etc.) are fattening. Not so, on either account. Fruit juice is liquid sugar and nuts are just naturally good. But of course, if you are a nut allergen, nuts are off the menu, too.

And fortunately for me, I am not. So within a week’s time I had eaten all of my Georgia pecans—all of them. And as much avocado and olive oil as I jolly well pleased, along with vegetables galore, and reasonable portions of poultry, oily fish, and grass fed meat. The options for recipes were endless, one of the reasons the plan worked for me.

But it does come with its cons, if you will. Planning is absolutely necessary. It is not for the willy-nilly. And aside from not having any access to fresh Georgia pecans for the last two weeks of the diet, I felt like Superman without my kryptonite for longer than I thought I should have. So I had a visit with my GP and found out that all was well, but quickly ascertained that my kryptonite was likely added sugar, not just from all those coffee cakes but other processed foods, too, and was doing more damage than good. So it was just as well that I ran empty on it.  And another dislike about EFGT was taking loads of  food supplements but admittedly, this was crucial.

Would I take the EFGT challenge again? Let’s hope I don’t have to because the book is a great resource for learning more about what is really good for the body and what is not. And as the author writes, there is no better doctor than your own body—it tells you what you need to know. It is up to you to listen to it.

Right… mine is calling for a coffee break and a gluten free, fine chocolate. Off I go.

 

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Dreaming up a Good Nightlife

I am dreamer, always have been. According to psychologists we all are. Dreaming is a natural part of our sleeping life, the mechanism the subconscious minds uses to offer feedback, resolve problems, etc… But here is the thing, the subconscious doesn’t know the difference between a dream and real life. That’s why nightmares can be chest pounding, heart racing and so on.

And that can make for a restless night. But what about if we dream well, can this make the difference in having a good night? It does, at least, for this one writer. Read more in my recent  Huffington Post blog: ‘Dreaming up a Good Nightlife’.

 

 

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Queen Marks Magnificent 90th Birthday

April 21, 2016…Today the Queen of England turned 90. What an accomplishment unto itself. To be honest, I haven’t had the pleasure of knowing that many 90-year-olds. Three come to mind right away: my BFF’s great grandmother, a wonderfully poised lady; Irene Sinclair, the former beautiful Dove model, whom I only met briefly at a dinner; and my mother-in-law, who died at aged 96, giving me a good 15 years with her.

Surely there are others but these three made 90 seem as magnificent as Queen Elizabeth II does. Remarkable, isn’t she? Still working and looking absolutely radiant, imagine?

Though I haven’t met her personally, for years we teased about being her neighbour when we lived near Buckingham Palace and I will always remember that though Paul has been presented to the Queen at a work event, he gave up, perhaps his one and only opportunity to attend one of her prestigious garden parties, before we were married. Spouses only! Real love, isn’t it?

Reflecting on my 18 years in England, I must admit that living in London during the lifetime of the Queen has been historic. Let’s say I have enjoyed the fanfare of an event or two over the years, one of them the Diamond Jubilee in 2012, and looking forward to many more that kick-off today, some yesterday and before, to celebrate her stamina, her service and commitment, her life.

On that note, I am pleased to join in with millions to say Happy 90th Birthday, Queen Elizabeth II.

 

 

 

 

 

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Ready to Work

Readiness is important in many major areas of life: ready for university, ready for marriage, ready for parenthood, and sometimes after a long absence, we need to be ready to do something vital again such as work.

For weeks now, I have not written anything comprehensible, haven’t worked. I am sure this hinges on the loss of my mother. Though I have had much to say, I haven’t had the wherewithal to say it in writing. Let’s face it. Daunted by grief, I quit working for nearly three months.

This is not to brag about it. Nor is it something that I am particularly proud of. On the contrary, I would like to pretend it hasn’t happened. But it has and all things that happen out of order, my silence as a writer, deserve an explanation.

Otherwise, such practices sneak their way into the norm, though I do understand that it is normal to grieve. And that there is no set time when we should get back to work, back to life as we knew it before loss. Of course, the latter never happens since with loss, life changes and often drastically, depending on the degree of the loss. We find ourselves taking on new roles, living in unacquainted space, etc. I know I have, but that’s another blog.

In any case, most of us have a responsibility not only to ourselves, but also to our surviving loved ones to live after loss and often to the deceased one, too.

A friend pointed out that surely my mother wouldn’t want me to quit indefinitely. Spot on! When she lost her father to a tragic accident and then her mother to an illness, my mom felt broken hearted as I do now, but was able to maintain her commitments to family, church, community and work and so on.

On this note, it is fortunate for me that I am self-employed and have a fall back—my husband. Otherwise I am almost sure I would be out of job, not to mention what else I would be out of.

But writers, artists, the likes, do have a history of long absences; dry spells and so on, since the mind is our most valuable tool. And grief, at least for me, has been mind blowing. The tricks of the trade that helped me out of the dessert in the past have been futile —stepping away from the work, running, which normally satisfies my thirst, letting the work rest and going back to it and so on.

Typing for Inspiration
How about typing for inspiration?

This time, the quagmire, whatever you want to call it, was different. As I came to terms with this, I accepted my feelings as natural to the grieving process, although they felt (and still do) rather alien, as alien as death itself, though dying is a natural part of living, I said with a brave face to a dear friend the other day.

With heartfelt remorse, she replied, no it isn’t.

Of course we’re both right. Everyone has to die; there is no way around it. It is the natural end to life, however it comes about. But death is an evasive matter, one that plunges us into the depths of grief. Nothing about it feels natural. Nothing.

Yet, here I am, to some still early days yet, returning to work. To others, I am ever so late. Due to the nature of their work and the way they process grief, they’ve been back for ages, even if their hearts still ache.

But here is the thing that we likely have in common. To some degree, we return to work, do what we need to do, when we are ready. Ultimately it was such words that provided the incentive I needed to write again, coupled with a take away from my church’s Bible in One Year subscription.

In Luke 19: 11-14, Jesus tells The Parable of the Ten Minas, in which a man of noble birth called ten of his servants and gave them a mina each before he left on a journey. When he returned, it was the one who turned the one into ten that received the highest of blessings, precisely because he made good use of his resource.

To paraphrase our vicar, Nicky Gumbel, we are not only supposed to use our money, but also all the gifts God has given us. That means the gift of writing, too.

Hence, I am ready and I hope you are too. Visit sonjalewis.com or sonjalewis.com for weekly blogs on life, on lifestyle, on London, and other relevant topics. See you next week.

 

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London Lights Up European Tour

Lately, I have run into a few Americans in European cities who have decided to give London a miss on their tour or I’ve heard my friends and acquaintances tell of their travels abroad sans London, too.

‘What is up with that?’ I have asked often. ‘London is a great city. You will never tire of it, promise!’

‘Not the problem,’ I have been told.

‘Then what is it?’

It’s expensive, really expensive. Fair enough, but you are not coming to live in the place for pete’s sake. You are coming to visit and when it comes to entertainment for free, London has much to choose from. From checking out its many cathedrals to its eclectic neighbourhoods, right in central London, the city promises to light up any European holiday.

Literally, this past weekend, London lit up in a special way. Though you will always find Leicester Square heaving, it was teeming that much more with Londoners and tourists alike this weekend, those keen to see what all the light of the Lumiere Festival was about. There, was the Garden of Light, first stop on Lumiere’s map.

Though a bit crowd shy, Paul and I wrapped up and joined in with the sightseeing on Saturday, the second night of the event, but chose to make Leicester Square, our last stop with a view that we would grab a bit to eat at one of our favourite spots in Covenant Garden. Not a chance. Never mind, we ended up in South Kensington, where we lived when I first arrived in London.

Posh neighbourhood indeed, but even there one can get a bite to eat without breaking the bank. Though we had planned on sitting down to one of the many neighbourhood restaurants, we ended up grabbing a take away from Rotisserie Jules. But I digress.

Back to Lumiere and where we started, (Mayfair), we got off to a slow start, when daunted by the crowds herding into Grosvenor Square to see the two, possibly three light displays—Brothers and Sisters, Spinning Night in Living Colour and the Light Bench. Not sure if we saw the latter or not. Never mind, we headed to Regent Street, where things literally lit up.

With the famous shopping street closed to cars, crowds adored the 1.8 London display on one end of the street, streaming like a ribbon in the wind,  and on the other end was Les Lumineoles, fluorescents of the fish species. Also on Regent’s street was Keyframes light show, beamed from Liberty’s Department store.

On from there we headed to Piccadilly, where perhaps our favourite was 195 Piccadilly, a display of picturesque faces on the building next to Maison Assouline. Eager to escape the crowds, however, we took side streets into St James and into what was perhaps the heart of the festival, Les Voyageurs, The Travellers, featuring amazing characters perched on buildings around the area or seemly flying through the night.

Having had our fill of crowds, ranging from young to old, we decided to give a miss to Westminster, Trafalgar Square, The Mall and King’s Cross. Okay, so we missed out on a big part of Lumiere but not because we were tired of it, or of London.

As Samuel Johnson wrote, ‘when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life.’

And though Lumiere is over, such events as it have a way of lighting up an already happening city, an enlightening stop on any European tour.

 

 

 

 

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Expat Takes An Extended Holiday in January

While the first week of the New Year means back to business for most, it means an extended holiday for me and has done so for the last fifteen years—wedding anniversary time.

Over the years we have celebrated as far away as St Lucia and as close as London and many times in fantastic cities somewhere in between such as Dubrovnik, one of our most memorable commemorations.

This year, we added Florence, Italy, to our list and made memories that we will treasure for years to come. While there was no sunshine to soak up, the food, fashion and culture made up for it.

With so much to see and do, we hardly knew where to start in Florence. Aptly, since Paul had some work that could not be ignored, we began to taste the flavour of the city in our beautiful room, overlooking the Ponte Vecchio, perhaps Florence’s most recognised bridge.

From there, we did a reconnoitre of the shops on Via de Torbabouni, akin to New Bond Street and Madison Avenue, and those around it, paving the way for my solo expedition the next day.

Ending the day, I visited the Ferragamo Museum and was reminded of my first brush with luxury brands, some thirty years ago. Not that I could afford anything as such, but my very stylish boss at the time (you know who you are) absolutely loved Ferragamo shoes and rightly so. While I likely had a shoe obsession long before I moved to New York City, it definitely exacerbated in the company of the luxury brands and those who wore them. Still, no Ferragamos for me on this trip, but I did look long and hard at a pair of limited edition wedges, an original design of the master himself.

The next day, I ventured to the Gucci Museum, though I can’t say I am dripping in Gucci designs. My personal favourites are their watches, of which I have bought a few over the years. Still the museum, which charts the history of the brand from a 1920’s meagre leather goods shop to a modern day luxury brand, is fascinating. Running through Gucci’s history are a few everyday items such as the horse bit and bamboo, which have become icons of luxury.

Michelangelo's David,
Michelangelo’s David,

Nevertheless, Florence isn’t just about fashion, it’s about culture more than anything else. From the Galleria Uffizi to the Galleria Academia, Florence houses a stunning display of original paintings and sculptures. Most notable, of course, is Michelangelo’s David. Even if you have seen pictures, copies of the statue, there ain’t nothing like the real thing, which is a good segue to Italian food.

Most memorable has to be our anniversary dinner at Il Palagio, housed in the Four Seasons. Looking at my beautiful menu, I commented to Paul that we might be in for another Era Ora experience where we had no idea what the dinner would cost. Remember, Copenhagen?

Not so, he said, smiling and then explained the custom of giving the host, the man, the menu with the prices and spare his guest (s). There you go, I ordered away and for the first time had pigeon. I know, I know. But it was excellent, as was the surprise anniversary cake of sorts, made by the restaurant’s chef, presented with a red rose for me.

If that wasn’t enough to confirm Florence as a romantic city, we witnessed a marriage proposal the next day at the Gucci Museum café, lad on bended knee and all.

It’s the perfect place to consider holy matrimony, since Florence is perhaps best known for its holiness. Not only evident in its symbolic art all around the city, Christianity’s mark on Florence is on display in and outside of its many churches, cathedrals. Its most famous, the Duomo, the Santa Maria del Fiore, is a magnificent Gothic structure built on the site of the 7th century church of Santa Reparata.

Having vowed not to climb to the top of the Duomo, some 463 steps, Paul and I stopped just short of the cupola, as we were short on time and I must admit, breath, too. Still we saw up close and personal Giorgio Vasarils famous frescoes of the Last Judgement.

Breathtaking, even if we didn’t get the best view of Florence in the end. Still, we felt we experienced the best of the city, racking up another memorable celebration. Here’s is to extended holidays in January, even if is back to work today.

 

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Reflecting and Projecting Because I Can

Off to a slow start this year? Me too. When my alarm sounded at seven this morning, I thought it was a mistake, surely. Only when I realised that Paul had been up for a while yet was I convinced that someone had not played a first Monday in January practical joke on me.

Even so, I kept my space, feeling comatose for another thirty minutes, okay nearly an hour, contemplating what to do next—roll over and go back to sleep, pray and meditate on life in general or get up and go for a run. In the end, I settled for a combination of the latter two and thank goodness I did. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting at my desk, beavering away.

For a while now my mantra of sorts, which has kept me moving, is to just do it, whatever it is because I can. Sadly, there are people who want to run, to walk, to write, etc., who can’t.

With that said, already, I have done some serious reflecting on 2015. More went wrong and less went right. Never mind that I didn’t promote my books at all, didn’t even begin the Jana Project, working title for an effort to help girls ages 8 to 12 stay in tip-top shape in their in between years and enjoy doing so, and that I dropped more blogs on my website than I care to admit, I am going to focus on what went right. I delivered more on the Huff Post than I dropped, and also, I introduce the game: What City Is This, even if it did fizzle out after a hyped couple of days.

Not bad, not really. Okay, it wasn’t my best performance. But that’s all behind me now, doors closed. In front of me, however, are alluring doors that mostly have not been opened. Even though some are slightly ajar.

It is up to me to make some projections of sorts, starting today, and then walk or run through those attractive doors, even if I move a bit slowly like I did this morning. Then, a young woman, sauntering took a short cut apparently and came out just before me at the main road/path. So ashamed, I had no choice but to dig deep and shoot past her.

There, though several runners, some of them pros of sorts, others novices, left me behind, I felt better for making an effort because I could. That’s it: off now to make some more projections and get on with delivering them, all because I can.

Such fun anticipating a can do year and wishing you one, too. Happy New Year!

 

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Looking for Peace?

It’s New Year’s Eve, a day of bidding farewell to 2015 and preparing for 2016, the anticipated year ahead. So what you are hoping to resolve next year?

One acquaintance is going to do bit of saving and another a bit of exercising. As for me, I don’t make New Year’s resolutions as such but I will take this opportunity  as I did around my birthday in September, to reflect and project.

And in doing so, I  have hope to resolve a few things. One thing I am I am hoping for is a bit more peace in 2016, not only on a personal note but on a public one, too.

Peace, the topic of my last 2015 Huff Post blog, is one of those concepts that seems elusive. Still we strive for it and hope for it, but sometimes perhaps we look in the wrong place. Perhaps it is time to look in what is likely the only place that peace can be found: within. Read more in the Huff Post.

In the meantime, wishing you a Peaceful and Happy New Year.