After I spent a good deal of the last weeks and months posting about my family, I thought it was high time to write something about my appreciation for my surrogate family here in OZ.
This pic was taken one week after Katie was born, it was the first time she ever went to the beach, heard the sea, and met the lovely souls that make up the group commonly referred to as “Freshie Frisbee Friday”.
It took us forever to get ready (to a point where we almost did not go) and drive down to Freshie, but I am so glad we did, as we could not have wished for a better, more memorable welcome that night.
When we walked in sight of the Frisbee pitch and someone (unfortunately I can’t remember who) spotted us, they dropped the Frisbee, started clapping and cheering, and ran towards us. To be honest, at first I was a bit concerned with all those sweaty, sandy bodies, but hey, love is not always hygienic, right? 😉 We were literally & figuratively surrounded by love!
The genuine happiness and affection shown to us here warms my heart, and I just wanted to say thanks for that. Being away from the people we love in Europe is sometimes hard to deal with, but having you guys around certainly makes it a lot easier, proving once again that family does not need to be blood.
Like countless times before in our lives, traveling was the big common denominator that led to this in the first place. While we were making our journey around the world, we ended up on that little hidden gem of an island in Thailand, where we meet a loco guy named Allie. We told him, we were going to move to Australia eventually (I don’t think he took us seriously at that point) – and one day, we texted him to come to our house to hang out.
When we opened the door, he was like: “Hey, did you miss me? Guess you remembered me differently?” And that’s how we met Dan. (Allie was hiding somewhere in the hallway) I’m pretty sure Dan used different words that day, but I will not repeat his politically incorrect vocabulary.
Later that year, Allie introduced us to Frisbee – and the rest is history.