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Sherri Turner StoneIf you've made it this far on my website, you know that I'm an American living in the UK. The West Midlands of England to be exact. I've been here since January 2004. 
It seems almost a lifetime ago that I flew into Heathrow for the first time. The turbulence that day was the worst I've ever experienced, and I remember praying that the plane landed soon. I had near-death motion sickness and knew, at the very least, that I would soon be spewing half-digested airplane food across the rows of fellow passengers. Some higher power must have heard my prayer because the plane did land just in the nick of time. 
Since then, I've grown to love the people, the place and the culture, which is, believe it or not, much closer to our own American culture than you might think. American and British films, televison programs and music are so intertwined over here that I never feel far from home, and as much as I love Britain, the "home" that will always live in my heart is the good old USA...Texas. As I grow older, my memories of the past become more important to me than the present or a future yet unknown. 
I've thought so much about the things I miss...a big starry sky keeping vigil over hot summer nights filled with dancing fireflies, glorious Texas thunderstorms with their booming thunder and fantastical light shows, swimming in the warm Gulf and chasing sand crabs. I miss vanilla Cokes, Sonic jalapeno burgers and a good steak with A1. I miss late night drives on trafficless country roads with the windows down, the wind blowing through my hair and the smell of honeysuckle wafting under my nose like a little scent of heaven. Most of all though, I miss my mother, my father and my children more than they will ever know.
I also realize now that if I ever leave Britain, there will be many things missed from here as well. Curry of the Balti variety (developed about 50 years ago for the British palette and found no where else), sitting around the corner at "my local" pub with my best mate having a meal of fish and chips or steak and ale pie with a pint, driving through the Welsh countryside to end up walking barefoot on the beach of a quaint Welsh harbor town.
Oh, the places life can take us if we are brave enough to let it......
- Sherri