I’ve had my fair share of sun burns so it may seem a bit ironic that I’m here to tell y’all about the importance of sun safety. But when Holiday Gems* asked me to partner with them on this campaign about summer sun safety, I knew I couldn’t say no. See – I have a family history of skin cancer, and that combined with my own reckless youth in sunny Michigan lakes makes me a likely candidate as well. Now that I’m a bit older (and hopefully wiser) I’ve committed myself to a life of sunscreen. There’s nothing like a good, hard, lobster-red “lesson learned” to shock you into a new healthy habit, amiright?
They say the one constant in life is change, and if that’s true then the one constant in expat life is goodbyes. I had a different post planned for this week but I wanted to write about this instead: the universal truth of expat life. I’m not the first person to write about it and I won’t be the last, but that doesn’t stop me wanting to put my words out into the ether of the Internet.
When JORD watches reached out to me for a collaboration, my YES came not from the watch itself (although look at it, it’s gorgeous), but because I suffer from a certain affliction…. the Scrolling Monster.
You know soul mates?
Screw ’em. Let’s talk about soul places.
To me, St Ives is one of those places. The first time I took a St Ives day trip, I meandered with friends through the low-tide harbor. I ate gluten free crepes, clambered on rocks, wrapped up in a warm blanket under a heat lamp at the Porthminster Beach Cafe with a bottle of wine and the sound of night-time waves just a few meters away.
If you visit Girona, like I did recently, one of the most surreal things you can do is visit Dali’s Castle of Pubol, also known as the Gala Dali Castle. Oh and btw… “surreal”? Pun intended 😉
Soon, I will be bidding farewell to my home of Exeter, England. I read once that we can never return “home” because places will never be the same as when we left them. We change, they change, the people in them change.
I haven’t lived in Exeter for a while, but I still consider it a home. It’s a bit ironic, really. When I studied abroad at Exeter, I did a poetry dissertation which focused on the complexities of defining “home” – it was my first time living in the same country that my maternal grandmother came from, my first time living abroad, and I spent a lot of time pondering what home means. It was one point in my seemingly lifelong mission to understand what home is. Four years later, Exeter is a place I consider home.