Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Colenso, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Fatherhood, Friendship, Home, Jill, Jillyism, Love, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Paul
I can’t believe that tomorrow, we will be in the last month of the year.
Given we have basically all been confined to working in our homes, doing the same thing over and over and over again … it’s amazing how quickly this year has seemingly gone.
Of course, while our lives have been in arrested development, everything around us has been changing at a rapid rate.
From a personal perspective, in addition to the constant stream of dramas revolving around COVID-19 and the US elections, I experienced being made redundant, buying a new house, moving into the new house, seeing Otis go to a new school he adores, being asked to work on some of the most weird and wonderful creative projects I’ve ever had the opportunity to work on [for ‘clients’ I never dreamt I would get to work with], set up the adventure that is Uncorporated, mess about with the minds of procurement departments and enjoy the joy of being offered a job at one of my absolutely favourite agencies in the whole wide World, Colenso … which all combined to ensured life felt it was still rushing forward even though so much of my physical life stayed exactly the same.
Not that I didn’t love my physical life staying the same because it was basically the best bits of my life delivered in ways I had never really experienced them before,
Being with my family every single day.
Enjoying breakfasts, lunch and dinners with them.
Hanging out. Playing. Spending time just in each others life.
So while acknowledging the utter privilege I have in my life that let’s me be able say this – and acknowledging the fact that because my parents have sadly passed away, I did not have to deal with the emotional pressures and challenges of looking after elderly family members when you could not see them – I can say 2020 has been one of the best years of my life.
Seriously.
And while I look at 2021 with excitement, there is also a feeling of sadness this year is going to soon end because there’s been many things I have discovered, enjoyed and experienced that I either never knew, didn’t realise or just didn’t want to end.
I totally get I may be the only person who thinks this way – though my best friend Paul probably agrees – but that’s how I feel.
I know I am in a position of great fortune.
I know many are in very different situations.
But whatever your circumstances … I hope the final month of 2020 lets you feel either a hint of optimism for what could be ahead or grateful for the lessons this year has revealed to you. And if you can’t and are worried about it, then please get in touch – because while I can’t promise I can change this for you, I can promise I’ll listen and help you create the conditions that could increase the odds of making it so.
Have a great week.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Context, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, England, Family, Friendship, Fulfillment, Happiness, Home, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Nottingham, Otis, Parents, Paul, Relationships, Rosie
When I was growing up, our back garden was a disaster.
Overgrown.
Tall grass.
Brambles.
Bushes.
Beautiful mayhem.
As a kid, I thought it was amazing.
Me and Paul would run in there and it felt like we were in the jungle.
From playing hide and seek to pretending we were soldiers, it could all happen there.
Then around the age of 5, Mum and Dad had an extension put onto the house and because the loan they took out for it was a bit more than they needed to have it built, they spent the rest on the garden.
Oh how they loved it.
They spent hours there.
Creating it. Cultivating it. Nurturing it. Admiring it.
My god, the way my dad treated his ‘sweet peas’ was enough to make me think he loved them more than me sometimes.
And while I still could play softball tennis with Mum on the patio, I always felt I had had something robbed from me – despite the fact there was a massive park down the road and huge fields of nothingness around the house.
So from there on in, while I could appreciate a nice garden, I always saw them as something that pushed me away rather than welcomed me in.
Until now.
I readily admit I had nothing to do with the garden we have in the home we have just bought.
I readily admit part of its appeal is that it’s mature, so feels natural rather than contrived.
And I readily admit I am still as shit and unenthusiastic about gardening as I ever was.
But my god, I am shocked at how much I love it.
I can stare at it for hours.
Sit in it for days.
Doing nothing but looking at it’s beautiful vibrancy and shades.
Seeing Rosie the cat stretch out on the deck like she has just hit ‘peak cat life’.
Watching Otis play on the swing hanging from the tree then looking at Jill picking up all the apples that have fallen from Otis’ adventure. Turning them into pies that we scoff or give to the neighbours in an blatant attempt to mitigate the mayhem we’ve caused in the first few months of living here with huge moving trucks blocking the road and electrical blackouts that we absolutely, definitely did not cause.
The idea of all this is about as foreign to me as you could get.
I’m a city person.
I like noise and bustle not nature and quiet.
Yet … yet … this is something very special.
Something I feel a real privilege to experience, which I acknowledge is only possible because of the privileged position I am in.
And while all these feelings could all be because of my age or because this house is our family home – regardless of the incoming NZ adventure – the impact of a simple garden has been far more than I ever imagined.
Which makes me think it could also have something to do with making me feel closer to Mum and Dad.
You see while our little garden at home was nothing like this, it was incredibly special to them.
Sure it was beautiful. Sure it was the fruits of their hard work and care. But it seemed to be a place that let them feel everything was going to be OK, regardless of the challenges.
And over the years, our wonderful little family faced many – but that garden always gave them comfort and joy.
A little piece of heaven.
Blossoming into radiant beauty and colour even after the harshest of winters.
Reminding them that the darkest times will always welcome a new spring.
And while as a kid I didn’t really like how that garden had robbed me of my jungle, I grew to appreciate it.
I saw what it did for my parents.
I still remember how my Dad stared in wonder at it after his stroke.
He’d been in hospital for months and was finally allowed home.
And while he needed a lot of care from Mum, that garden was like medicine for him. Helping him forget the pain he was in. Helping him forget the turmoil he was going through.
No longer able to talk.
No longer able to walk properly.
But here, facing the fruits of his love and labour, all was forgotten.
He was safe.
He felt nourished.
He was connected to something his body was not able to let him enjoy anymore.
He and Mum could transport themselves to a time and place where everything was OK.
And while I hope I never face the tragedy my Father suffered – and acknowledge this garden is from the toil of others hands – I feel I get what nature was able to do for Mum and Dad.
Because it isn’t just what grows in the garden, but what it helps blossom within yourself.
Filed under: Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Australia, Authenticity, Brilliant Marketing Ideas In History, Cannes, Chaos, China, Context, Creative Development, Creativity, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Family, Fatherhood, Grand announcements, Happiness, Health, Home, Insight, Jill, London, Love, Loyalty, Management, Marketing, Metallica, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Nottingham, Otis, Parents, Paul, Planners, R/GA, Relevance, Resonance, Rosie, Shanghai, Shelly, Wieden+Kennedy
Before I start, I need to warn you this post is long.
It may be the longest post I’ve ever written, so there’s a TL;DR at the very end.
Anyway, this post is about my Mum. And my wife.
Two amazing people who provided the foundation that allowed their husbands to go all over the place.
I’ve written about how my Dad had a bunch of radically different careers.
Not degrees of change, whole fucking protractors worth.
And while my career has been more ‘stable’, in so much it has pretty much revolved around the same industry … the fact I’ve been able to live and work literally all around the World is as much down to my wife as it is to any opportunity I have been given.
Put simply, none of what Dad or I have done could happen if Mum or Jill hadn’t enabled it.
And enabled is the perfect word … because this is more than just ‘supporting’ someone’s quest for adventure.
They actively enabled it to happen by choosing a path that offered them – and the family – a greater level of stability and consistency so their partner could follow the path of curiosity.
What an amazing act of generosity and love.
It is something I have been aware of for a long time …
And while Jill has loved the adventure we have been on, it has come at some personal sacrifice.
She is far from her family.
She built her career as much around the environment she was in as the interest she had in a particular area.
And while she did brilliantly with all of it – especially with her cake design business in Shanghai – I am perfectly aware she could well have gone on to even more amazing things if we had just stayed in one place rather than moved all around the World.
She has never complained about this.
She has always embraced the journey and the countries we have lived in.
But the reality is I took her away from her family supposedly for a year, which turned into 16.
Or said another way, she has shown me a level of love and support that I find hard to fathom.
So now it’s time to pay things back a little. Kinda.
You see when I got made redundant, I was inundated with generosity.
Some of it was words of support.
Some of it was offers of projects.
Some of it was even offers of jobs – albeit all overseas in America, Europe, Asia and Australasia.
Frankly, it was overwhelming and wonderful.
And while all the gigs were amazing opportunities, our first reaction was to say no.
Part of it was because of the wonderful family home we had just bought. Part of it was our desire to set down real roots for the first time. And part of it was because two famous rock bands, a wonderfully eccentric Chinese billionaire, an amazing German home appliances brand and the World’s most notorious/desired video game company stupidly asked me to work with them on long-term creative projects, meaning I could continue to earn a good living in the country my family now considered home.
Hell, in the last 9 weeks I’ve done presentations to the boards of TikTok, Rockstar, a fashion superstar and a Silicon Valley VC while also helping some mates on 2 pitches … one in Australia, one in Italy … and we won both of them!!!
As weird as it is to say, unemployment – for me – has been amazing.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I know what I’m saying is the definition of privileged-as-fuck.
I absolutely acknowledge I’m in an extremely fortunate position and, if I’m being honest, I’ve found that hard to reconcile with, given how many people – many my mates – are having a hard time right now. To help deal with that, I’ve been finding ways to bring some of them into the projects I’m on because not only do I want to share the good fortune I’m experiencing, they all make me – and the work I do – so much better.
But it also revealed something I had forgotten.
As much as I love the work I’m doing and who I’m doing it for, I love it more when I’m doing it with a team. If I’m being honest, I suck when I’m on my own and given the personal projects I’m doing will never demand 8 hours a day – let alone 5 days a week – there’s a lot of ‘on my own’ time, I have to deal with.
I know, that sounds like the dream doesn’t it?
And it is. But while I absolutely love spending so much time with my family and adore working with Rock Stars and eccentric billionaires, I also love – and probably need – to collaborate with other creative people on other creative things … which led us back to the ‘real’ jobs people were talking to me about.
Frankly they all offered something unique, interesting and valuable to my career, my family and our overall future.
And, importantly, they all involved working with interesting, passionate, creative people.
Plus – in theory – I could still deal with the crazy ideas and needs of rock stars and billionaires.
So Jill and I discussed them again.
Some were pretty easy to decide …
Not because the job or the companies were bad – they were all wonderful – but they were based in the US and frankly, given all that’s going on there right now, that’s not somewhere we wanted to go back to at this time.
But there was one opportunity that caught Jill’s attention.
Not just because of the job, but because of the place.
Jill knew I was already excited by it because the company involved was one I had revered and raved about for years. In fact I had almost joined them a few years ago, but Mum had just died so I was in the wrong frame of mind to make any big changes in my life.
So why did this place catch Jill’s attention?
Because, in simple terms, it was nearer to her Mum, who lives in Australia.
You see while she talks to her daily, it’s obviously not nearly the same as seeing her a bunch of times a year.
I totally understood this, not just because I had been in a similar situation with my parents … but because now we were so close to my beloved best mate Paul and his epic wife Shelly, I felt an even deeper connection with them, simply because we got to hang out a shit load more than we had for the past 25 years.
And so this got us talking.
As I said, I absolutely adored the company. And I loved Jill could be closer to her Mum. And we loved the idea Otis could spend his primary school years in an environment that is safe, natural, liberal, creative and culturally diverse. Plus I loved I could do something that would – in a super small way – repay Jill for all the love, consideration and sacrifice she had given to allow me to keep us moving forward … not to mention I loved that I would have a whole new list of people I could make Facebook friends.
[OK, not that last bit, more like a whole new list of people I could be an instagram terrorist to]
Are you wondering what the fuck I’m going on about?
Well this is my very convoluted way of saying Jill, Otis, Rosie and I are all moving to Auckland in New Zealand, and I‘m pathetically happy to announce I’ll be the head of strategy for one of the most wonderful agencies in the World – in fact, one of the Cannes agencies of the decade – the utterly brilliant, beautifully ridiculous, infectiously creative … Colenso.
I have loved this agency for so long.
They’ve consistently made work that I’ve not just been insanely jealous of, but I’ve not seen anywhere else.
From creating a radio station for dogs … to stopping speeding by letting kids design the speed dial in the family car … to making drinking a beer the most romantic thing you can do on Valentine’s Day – or an alternative fuel for cars – they’re imaginative, audacious and wonderfully bonkers.
While saying ‘no’ to them 5 years ago was the right decision because of my state of mind after Mum died, I always felt I’d missed out on an opportunity that could be very special for me, so to be offered a second chance is … well, put it this way, it’s something I’ll always be eternally grateful to their idiocy for making happen.
Frankly, when I got made redundant, I never imagined something like this could happen … but, as I said at the time, the last time this happened to me, it led to one of the most creatively rewarding times of my life and in my post, I wondered out loud if lightning could strike twice.
Amazingly, it seems it can … but that’s the best thing about life, because if you’re open to everything, anything can happen.
That said, being in England has been amazing, far more than I imagined or hoped.
I don’t mind admitting when we came back I had a sense of trepidation.
Part of it was because I never thought we’d live in England again, part of it was because I didn’t want it to signify ‘the end’ of the adventure [and yet so many people thought it did] and part of it was that I felt guilt coming home after Mum and Dad died … because if I was going to do that, what didn’t I do it when they were both still here.
But as we spent more and more time in England, those concerns were replaced by feelings of belonging and connection that I thought I’d lost the ability to feel or experience, regardless where we lived … so while the UK may a complete basket-case of a nation, it’s my basket-case and I can take that newly formed sense of connection with me wherever we go.
But what about our new home?
The one I’d written so much about when we got it?
The one we moved into SEVENTEEN DAYS AGO!
Well, the fact of the matter is we’re in it and we love it and we don’t want to lose it … so while we will taking a detour via a wonderful adventure in New Zealand, I can categorically say we will be back living in it at some point. Don’t know when – we never make plans about timing – but we just know we will one day.
You see the reality is the house was always more to us than just an asset.
We wanted somewhere where we could settle … a place where our roots could grow and become established and entwined. It’s why I took the decision to sell Mum’s home, not just because it helped us be able to afford it, but because it was the sort of place Mum would want for us.
A family home rather than a house my family lived in.
I look forward to continuing to enjoy that until we go.
I look forward to continuing to enjoy that when we eventually come back.
But when do we go?
Well, that’s an interesting question with COVID … but hopefully in the first part of 2021.
If you asked me if we would ever live in New Zealand in the first half of 2020, I would have laughed and said no … and then added., “not unless Colenso offer me a job again”. But here we are, about to do just that … and I have to admit we are all hugely excited about it.
Not just for the reasons I’ve mentioned, but because living in another country and culture is an amazing privilege and we’re excited that the journey we’ve been on for the last 25+ years, still has a few more chapters to be written.
[That said, our cat is not happy as this this will be her SIXTH country in 13 years]
I’m so grateful to Colenso for giving me – and my family – this opportunity.
I’m so grateful to Jill for thinking of me even when this is supposed to be more about her.
I’m so grateful to R/GA for giving me – and my family – this experience in England and, by making me redundant, opening the door to exciting and rewarding things I never imagined could happen.
I’m also so grateful to all the people who have been so kind with their generosity and support while I’ve been in England, especially when I was made redundant. There’s loads and I’ll write a post about them when we leave but quickly, a massive thanks to …
My old planning gang at R/GA. Nils, Lucy and the incredible team at Uncommon. Matt Tanter. The Brixton Finishing School. John Dodds. Joel Keene. Emma Clark. Jonathan Nwauzu. Phil Jacobson. Judd Caraway. Caroline Seifert. The delightful nightmares Mike and Sam. Claire Pickens. David Tiltman. Munraj Singh. Kay and the team at SMILE-ing Boys Project. Michael Roberts. Karrelle. Louise Jack. Nick Ellis. Paul C. Nick Hirst. Richard Greene. Jed Hallam. Ms Bloodworth [although technically she is now in PDX]. Trudie McNicholl. Omar at The London Business School. Larissa. Sam Clohesy. Hanan. Giles Edwards. Asher. Tom Roach. Tarik at On Road. Sara Tate. Stefano. My beloved Mr Weigel. Ally McKenzi. Vince Aidoo. Neil Perkin. Graeme Douglas. Nick Owen. Nic Owen. Sam Brookes. Dave Alberts. Ayo and Group Think.
There’s tons I’ve missed but as I said, I’ll write a proper thing about them closer to the time we go [even though I appreciate this is turning into a Ms World acceptance speech] but I would be wrong if I didn’t give a mention to my oldest, dearest friend – Paul – and his wonderful wife Shelly, who made – and are making – this chapter better than I dared imagine.
I can’t really put into words how wonderful it has been being close to them again. While it had been 25 years since we were in the same country, it never felt like it – though being so close definitely made things even better. [The photo above, taken in our new garden when they came to visit, is one I’ll always treasure]
The one really sad thing about going is not seeing them as much as we have been able to over the past 2 years … but I keep reminding myself we’ll be back and I know when that happens, it will be exactly like it has been – wonderful and silly – because that’s exactly what happened when we came back after a quarter of a bloody century.
I know this has been a super long post. Like, Gwyneth Paltrow Oscar-speech long.
And I know most of you won’t have read most of it.
Or you just skipped to the TL;DR at the bottom.
But that’s OK, because it’s not for you, it’s for me.
And for Otis. For when he’s older. So he can properly understand the reasons behind his childhood, family adventures.
However even I’m getting over it so with that I’ll leave you with this …
Once upon a time, Dan Wieden asked me if I would ever live in Portland.
My response resulted in him saying, “I should fire your ass” and repeating it every single time he saw me from there on in.
I never had anything against Portland.
It’s an absolutely lovely place, but for me – especially as I was living in Shanghai at the time – I felt it was too small, too quiet, too natural and just too nice.
Well, we’re going to find out who was right.
I’m pretty sure we’ll find Dan was. As usual.
TL;DR
Bought a house in England but moving to NZ.
Off to play at the wonderful Colenso and let my wife be closer to her Mum.
Filed under: Anniversary, Birthday, Comment, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Friendship, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Otis, Paul, Shelly
I know I’m on holiday and there should be no posts this week, but today – like yesterday – is a moment that needs to be celebrated, even if I’m not around.
June.
1970.
2 amazing things happened.
The first was I was born … hahahaha.
But the second occurred 4 days later, when Paul Hill popped out.
Though some of you in Nottingham will know him as the Frothy Coffee Man.
Since that day, we’ve basically been inseparable.
From discovering we lived on the same street – at least initially – to going through every school class together, every drama and hardship together and every exciting adventure together.
From kindergarten to college … divorce to death … mortgage to marriage … we’ve always been together.
Always.
And now my parents have passed away, he is the person I’ve known – and who has known me – the longest my life and that might be part of the reason why I genuinely regard him as family.
Hell, I haven’t bought a full page ad in a newspaper for anybody else … and that includes my wife and son!
I don’t know what it was, but we just clicked from the second we met.
A bond that has remained to this day.
And I genuinely mean a bond.
Even when I spent 25 years away from the UK, Paul was always my best mate.
We could go a month without talking – or a year without seeing each other – but the moment we were back together, whether in the flesh or on the phone, it was there.
The bond.
Solid as all fuck.
Like no time had been between us.
Now if you ask my wife, there is one thing that defines this … our immaturity.
You see, while life has changed for both of us, when we’re together, we return to being cheeky, mischievous 10 year olds.
OK, some of that is because Paul has done some momentously stupid things that makes me cry with laughter … and some of it might be that we have a lifetime of memories and experiences we’ve built up … but generally, when we’re together, we get younger.
Or more precisely, act younger.
I can’t tell you how grateful I am that our wives put up with it.
Just like I can’t tell you how happy I am our wives adore each other.
But there’s something even better than that, and that’s how Otis talks about his odd-parents.
Having my son see my oldest friend and his wife as part of his family is such an amazing feeling.
Maybe part of this is because Paul and Shelly don’t have kids of their own …
Maybe part of this is because Otis has spent so much time with them …
Maybe part of this is because Paul acts younger than Otis …
But whatever the reason, I am so happy he see’s ‘Uncle Paul and Auntie Shelly’ as being important in his life because I want all of them to know how important they are in ours.
To reach 50 with my best friend is a wonderful thing.
I would love to just sit down and talk about all the things we can remember together.
And while I could do that today – when I go to see him – it would take a long time.
But there are some things that stand out to me …
From him ALWAYS picking me as the ‘dog’ in the song ‘Old McDonald’ … so all the kids in kindergarten would smack me on the head.
To the time he came back from a family trip to Hong Kong with the first digital watch I’d ever seen with a calculator in it.
When we bumped into each other in LAX, not knowing our wives had spent 6 months secretly planning a trip for us all to go to Vegas and renew our vows with an Elvis impersonator.
That year he came back from the school 6 week holidays about 10 feet taller than when he left.
When we stayed up all night in Sheffield so we could get to the front of the stadium to see Queen – only to learn they weren’t coming and we got Five Star instead.
To Mr One Eye, Round Table Christmas Tree, shoes on the wrong feet, the girls at Glens, BMX petition, the ‘Jessops’ mirror, Duchess, the ‘Denmark’ incident, wheelie competitions, a coach reversing up his parents driveway at midnight, Rock City on Friday night, Bangkok Shakes tours, sawing my finger off, his insanely large appendage, Passport to Pornland …. he has been involved or connected to every single event in my life.
Good. Bad. Happy. Sad. Big. Small. Fun. Stupid.
And yet in all this time together, we have only ever had one falling out.
One!
And all I can remember is that it was about a local radio DJ who had committed murder.
God knows what we disagreed on but all I know is we were waiting for the number 45 bus to take us into town from Greythorn Drive … we had an argument … and I walked off in a huff.
I think I rang him the next day in tears to apologise and he was like, “what are you apologising for?”.
And that’s him.
Kind. Generous. Stupid. Lovely.
The reality is, Paul and I have a friendship based on enjoying life rather than worrying about it.
That doesn’t mean we are immune from pressure, troubles and hardship.
We both have had – and will have – situations that have been challenging and devastating to us. And when they happen, we are there for each other. But when I think of my relationship with Paul, I think of happiness.
That I still think that 50 years down the line is both incredible and testimony to his character.
I am proud of who he is.
I am proud of what he’s doing..
I am proud I get to call him my best mate.
Happy birthday beautiful.
Can’t wait to see you.
Here’s to the next 10.
Rx
_________________________________________________________________________________
Oh hang on, I’ve forgotten the best part.
As you know I’m a sentimental fart.
When Paul turned 40, I wanted to get him something that would show him how much I adored him and so – as I mentioned earlier in this post – I bought a full page ad in the Nottingham Evening Post newspaper.
The ad is the picture showing Paul at different stages of his ‘development’.
What’s funny is the paper then interviewed me to find out more about my ridiculousness gift and for some reason, they kept referring to Shelly – his wife – as ‘second wife, Shelly’.
They even printed it!
Fortunately she took it in good humour, which is handy as I then bought her mugs and tea towels with it proudly emblazoned on them.
But 50 is a whole different age …
So while I wanted to get Paul something that celebrated his birthday milestone and showed how much I love him … I wanted it to be more subtle, more respectable, more in keeping with people of our age.
So I got him this … I hope he like it, it took me an age to edit it all together
Happy birthday big fella.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Colenso, Comment, Culture, Daddyhood, Emotion, England, Family, Fatherhood, Goodbye England, Home, Jill, Love, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Otis, Parents, Paul, Shelly
So today is the 1st Feb.
That means today is the first day of our final month living in England.
Or at least living in England for a period of time.
We will be back for a whole host of reasons, we just don’t know when.
And while I’ll be writing another long, drawn out post listing all the things I’ll miss and all the things I’m grateful for … the reality is there’s a chance COVID will fuck our plans and instead of boarding a plane to New Zealand on the 3rd March, we’ll be in our beautiful home, trying to work out how to get our furniture off a boat and our cat out of quarantine.
It’s a strange feeling to think you have a time limit on what you have come to consider ‘home’.
A mixture of fear and excitement.
Of course we have done it a ton of times – and we’re really thrilled to be off on another adventure – but there’s a bunch of things that have got their teeth into us.
Being near Paul and Shelly after 25 years is a huge one.
Our beautiful new home with our beautiful garden is another.
Not to mention the wonderful new friends we’ve made in the time we’ve been back.
But as I say to many people who ask me about moving overseas, while it is easy to focus on the things you’ll miss, you need to focus on the things you’ll gain.
And we can’t wait for that.
The things we know, the things we hope for and the things that will just crash into our life.
I owe so much of my life to having lived around the World and I’m very excited to discover what new chapters this adventure will write.
So as this is a month where a lot will be going on, this blog will end on Friday till we are either in NZ or being told we have to wait longer to get into NZ.
Though whatever is the outcome, while not hearing my rubbish on here for a few weeks sounds like a delight, let me remind you – when I’m in quarantine in NZ with literally nothing to do, there’s a good chance I may be writing 100 blog posts a day.
So be careful what you wish for.