I was on a good blogging roll when life got in the way - sorry to drop you like that.
In the past three weeks, we've had eight house guests stay with us (age range: 9 months to my mother in law). Breakfast meant a dozen eggs and endless espresso, plus I don't even know how jars of marmalade. I made dinner almost every night.
Oh, and our refrigerator broke.
It was awesome, despite the technical difficulties. I love house guests - catching up with friends and family, spoiling them, giving them a taste of our life. There's nothing better than entertaining the right people.
But this time it has left me exhausted - I was taking naps every afternoon and that left no time to finish my Morocco story. Our last guest left on Tuesday night at 9 PM, and we were up until 2 AM packing and cleaning up the house. Then we got up at 5 AM so that we could catch our flight to Bermuda, where we've been flirting with Noel the entire time.
I firmly believe that things happen for a reason, as gale force winds mean that I've spent the last two days sleeping and getting massages and facials at an amazing spa (one massage was so good I FORGOT MY NAME. That's talent, people) instead of snorkeling or trying to be adventuresome or productive.
Guilt-free laziness is priceless. I've got a couple more days of sloth left, and then I'll be back to finish my story. I'm going to finish before my brother and my sis-in-law arrive later next week. I hope the fridge is working by then, because he likes his beer.