I’m here, Marmite is not, but I am here.

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My dear devoted readers (yes, both of you), I humbly apologize for abandoning you for a few weeks. You must feel as though I got up to refill my plate at the buffet and never returned to our table. Or that I secretly upgraded, leaving you at the backpackers’ hostel wondering where I took off to with your long-distance calling card. Well, let me say that I have done neither.

I have simply been bogged down in life. A life that involves traveling half way around the world with 2 children, flicking through time zones like a global Rolodex, and then, upon arrival in New Zealand, dealing with a vomiting toddler, baking a birthday cake, cuddling new nieces and nephews, scouring the shops for Marmite, flying in a helicopter, and consuming many flat whites (that’s a milky coffee) (not all of the above happened at the same time because, um, yuck).

Now I am reaching out to you from Australia because why not travel some more and thumb our noses at yet more time zones? And, the very best of reasons, there is a wedding to attend. So life now involves dashing between rain showers in the Sunshine State (oh, the irony), wondering why I didn’t slim down for this wedding, marveling at the friendliness of Australians, and drinking more flat whites (therein may be my answer to why I didn’t slim down).

All of this has kept me a tad busy, but I am never far in my thoughts from a blog post. I intend to carve out some time to post about NZ because being there has reminded me of all the time I have spent in that tiny, wonderful country, lucky girl that I am. To keep my promise to you, I will forgo critical things like being with family, sleeping, and drinking outstanding Australian wine…no, no, let’s not be silly, now.

Sit tight and let’s talk soon, okay? In the meantime, amuse yourself by reading about the Marmite crisis in NZ. It’s real, people. Very real. Send help.

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