Not an illegal alien

When I was younger and looking ahead to my adult life, the one constant I envisaged was travel. I fantasized about becoming independently wealthy (or dependently wealthy, I wasn’t particularly fussed) and travelling from country to country, graciously learning about different cultures and becoming a wandering woman of the world.

Barring unlimited wealth which would enable me to jump freely across continents, I was willing to settle for an international job which would send me throughout the world multiple times per year, as long as I could remain predominantly a free agent and have every weekend and evening to myself.

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Flan that Went Wrong

I had planned today to blog about something more high brow than Spanish Flan, but unfortunately, my tonsils are swollen and I have a small fever, so my thoughts on anything more meaningful than a classic Spanish pudding are decidedly scrambled.

Kind of like the Flan that Went Wrong. Continue reading