CATCH UP TIME

Crisis Peeps, 2 weeks without any word vomit at all, you have to know its bad when… There’s just so much to fill you in on I barely know where to begin. The installation of death, the date that renewed my faith in romance and of course, the mystery golf eating truck saga.

I’ll start at the very beginning, a very good place to start… kidding. So it all started with the installation to end all installations. The coupe de gra of my career, the big cahoona, the one that was going to make it all worth while… and ended 9 solid days later after 14 hour slogs with the installation (due to last of 5) complete and me sitting resplendent in my site clothes at the airport chomping at the bit to get on the plane to George (literally praying this pilot knew how to fly) where I knew my bestest Thunder would be waiting cosmo and heels in hand, she did not disappoint! So now I sit, relaxed to the max, phone thrown into the sea and totally getting my chill on…

The past 10 days have been the most manic I have had in my little pin prick on this planet. It has literally been a case of “If it can go wrong, it will, and in spectacular fashion”. 1 house, 100 men, 1 woman with a seriously determined look on her face and the likes of challenges not even the big man upstairs could conceive when he created Adam (because let’s me honest, you have to make a rough draft before the final product :). It was awesome, terrifying and exhilarating at the same time, but I wouldn’t want to do it again in a while. It knocked me sideways and it took all the strength and determination I had to pull through, not to mention a little help from a few special people!

That’s where the date that renewed my faith in romance came in. Totally topped up my depleted reserves of faith, personal ability and confidence. Not to mention had this Crazii Redhead totally and utterly speechless. Yes, I kid you not, dressed in a little black dress and heels, this little know-it-all was completely stunned. 12 long stem red roses, private wine cellar, candles, scattered rose petals… I know, right! Men take notes! It was incredible, the Chef really pulled out all the stops and I’m still unable to find the words…

So that only leaves my poor little blue baby girl and her surgery. Yes Peeps, we took her in before I departed for the heaven that is Plett and she is currently undergoing what can only be termed as a very traumatic but necessarily bit of plastic surgery. Cordie, we’re all rooting for you my little one and I’ll see you in a few days, shining as new!

Ciao Peeps, Merry Christmas to you all! If I find some time in between the sleeping and beaching, I promise to update on the colour of the sand, sea water temperature and number of mince pies consumed in one sitting!

Hugs and kisses all, to a brand new year of fun, excitement and completed hearts.