I’ve been back from the AMAZING Donsol trip (where The Husband and I swam with whale sharks) for nearly 4 days now, and I’ve been meaning to blog about it – really, I have. And I will, I promise – as soon as I kick my deadline’s ass. You see, that’s the downside of going off on holiday in the middle of the month: you almost always come home to a million and one things that you forgot to do with all the excitement of packing and getting ready for the trip . . . on top of all the other things that you haven’t even done yet (it’s mid-month, after all)!
So I’m just dropping a quick note to let you know that no, I haven’t been mistaken for krill and swallowed by a butanding. I’m not only very much alive; I’m also a year older (I celebrated my 28th 25th on the 13th) and hopefully, a tad wiser. And I promise I will blog some more about the trip for the benefit of those who would like to go to Donsol, too, as soon as I get the demands of my employment sorted out for this month and before I have to commence next month’s campaign.
But for now, meet the lovely, (not-so) little fellah that we met on holiday.







