Tag Archives: adventure

Living your truth + your dating profile = it’s about to get interesting…

The adventurer in me seeks the adventurer in you

For soulful journeys across oceans

And spiritual realms

For love induced delirium

And caffeine inspired moments

We’ll walk through the back alleys of cities

Getting lost in photographic moments

Of gritty dirt and beautiful arches

We’ll jump in the sea

Just to play with the ocean

We’ll sip tea in secret gardens

And have wine in hidden rooms

We’ll meet poets and playwrights,

Scientists and academics

We’ll have conversations

With lost souls and enlightened hearts

We’ll look for the meaning of life

Whilst getting high on the reality of the moment

We’ll seek answers we’ll never find

Whilst dancing on pavements

And giggling at raindrops

We’ll cry our hearts out at the pain we encounter

Then dry them with the beauty of life

And the occasional slice of chocolate

We’ll settle

But never be settled

We’ll have homes

But also places to roam

We’ll never be ordinary

And we’ll never be rude to the waiters

But maybe we’ll throw about our baggage

And stab each other from time to time

It’s OK because all wounds heal

So long as they aren’t mortal

 

We’ll know reality

But we’ll turn it to poetry

Because living is an art

And we’re the ones with the blank canvases

Waiting to be filled

With the paint of our hearts

 

You’ll need the heart of an explorer

And the eyes of an artist

The mind of an adventurer

And the courage of a bear

Love is the hardest journey

And the most beautiful of all

I realized that if I am to live the life of my dreams, I have to get real about who I am and what I want. I’ve written about taking responsibility for my choices. I’ve written about breaking down my life into manageable chunks and creating joy in the moment. I’ve written about facing my emotional fears. But this is me. This is the poet in me. This is me living the emotions I hide, yet the very same emotions I seek.

I won’t find them unless I dare live them.

Every day I feel a little bit happier as I let that poet shine through a little more. That hopeless romantic who prefers traveling the world without a map, just so as to be able to get lost in cities and encounter moments she never knew existed (OK, so I do like carrying a map, just occasionally not using it). 

To create your dream life, you have to dare to live it. You have to dare to be who you truly are. Otherwise, how can you create what you truly want? How can you create a living expression of your heart if you aren’t prepared to first show that heart?

Magique is about creating poetry in the moment for people. Magique is about wielding magic to create beautiful experiences that evoke all senses. 

The movies I have rattling around in my mind are about sharing poetic (and funny) moments with people; about showing people the poetry of life. 

And the life I want to live is a life filled with everyday poetry. Magic. Beauty. Truth. Freedom. And love. 

So here’s the vulnerable person in me, cheering the vulnerable person in you – let’s create poetry together. Because an arm of possibility is stretching across the ocean this morning, leaving a trail of mist and sparkling sunbeams. It’s a call to adventure and a promise of peace. It’s everything and nothing. It just is. But it’s all about how you view it. I view it as an ocean of opportunity and a moment of poetic bliss. 

By Yours Truly, a.k.a. Maria Montgomery 

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Filed under Artists, poetry, Soul, soul path, Thoughts, twin flames, Writing

Dream a little dream of me…

In true style of this blog I should start with innuendo. Like men and dreams and satin sheets…but sometimes life isn’t about innuendo. Sometimes you want someone to dream of your heart rather than about you naked between the sheets. Often we want both, but alas most things get off to a better start if you begin with the heart…

When I was a kid I used to read these novels about strong women going off to Africa. Some female doctor especially. I wrote an essay about becoming a doctor going off to Africa to work with kids – that’s how I got accepted to the International Baccalaureate. Then I read this book about street kids in Naples, when I was in Vancouver and had my infamous panic attack, thought I was dying and swore I’d open a nursery for street kids if I survived. At the time I was certain I’d end up in Latin America. I always felt drawn there in an entirely different way than I did to Africa. Africa was adventure, but the lifestyle, the culture, didn’t attract me until I found Morocco. In Vancouver I was hanging out with a group of Mexicans who also came as exchange students. I liked something about their culture. I felt at home. (This was also when we studied Isabel Allende and uh Antonio Banderas swimming naked in rice pudding…)

Then, when I was in L.A. (also filled with Mexicans) I swore again – this time that I’d move to Africa within three years if I didn’t succeed in business before then. At the time people kept telling me Cape Town was like L.A. with film, hills and ocean, so that’s where I went. And I found Little Angels and my life was forever changed.

I often say this – sometimes people are in our dreams before we even know them. They are the friends, lovers and opportunities we are dreaming of. We are each other’s dreams. It’s beautiful. And today when I saw some photos Liezl took of me I thought to myself if someone had shown me this photo fifteen years ago I would have cried from happiness.

My heart dreamed of Africa long before I made it here. It still dreams of Latin America. It still has poetic encounters with Paris. It’s still madly in love with the Hollywood Hills. It still walks around the souk in Marrakech at night. And it still loves Swedish summer nights.

I was talking to someone from Zurich today and I told her I always dreamed of seeing the streams in Switzerland/Austria in spring when the ice melts. I don’t know why, but I always had this dream. I mean I know I read about it at some stage and wanted to see it. But why did it stick with me? I know I love Easter, dawn, the sense of awakening of spring, but why this image of rivers in the mountains stuck in my head for many, many years? I was also thinking today it’s a bit of a crime I’ve never been to Amsterdam (save at the airport), but I never felt drawn there. Then again I never planned on moving to Paris. Sometimes something turns into our dream as it’s happening and changes our life forever. You know, sometimes you just trip over a man, end up in his lap head first, and life will never be the same…

So maybe, tonight, when you go to bed you should dream a dream. One of those kind of dreams…that sets your heart on fire. So be it if it happens between satin sheets… On that note I think I might have to go and dig mine out of the cupboards.

Sweet dreams.

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This kid only let myself and Liezl touch him, or he’d scream like the house was on fire, so I ended up with him in my lap all day.

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The lure of what’s beneath…

I always found the lure of the ocean on a stormy day particularly tempting. There’s something wild and untamed about waves crashing against the shore. I grew up on a boat, so I know exactly the danger of those waves. I also know their force makes me come alive. It’s akin to sunbeams on hot days; when you feel your body almost exploding; unleashing unto the world. It’s as if your soul breaks free and goes for a wander. It’s on those days you cannot keep secrets. Because you feel there’s no need. You’ve burst out of the bud and into the world.

If you drink wine on such days “in vino veritas” is the truest statement there could ever be. Your tongue is loosened and what was once hidden is no more.

Growing up shy, scared that I was a nuisance to the world, scared to break my silence, I always loved the sun. It set me free. The ocean didn’t necessarily set me free, but it awakened my spirits and showed me the wilderness I so desired. The untamed ocean. And if spirits are awakened to their wilderness, the soul set free and the tongue loosened, you finally end up walking with your heart on your sleeve. Which is exactly the way it should be.

I felt really trapped growing up. I felt trapped by my circumstance and by own imposed boundaries; my own protective walls. I didn’t like myself very much and was convinced others didn’t either. So I got caught up in myself. Later, when reading Thérèse Raquin, I labeled it the Thérèse Raquin syndrome. To be captured by yourself. An African spirit in a frozen climate. Though I never considered myself African. I don’t feel at home here. I never have. But the children of Africa are my children, because they, like I are often lost, looking for love where they cannot find it. And by finding them I found myself. I healed. I broke free.

It was a long journey and it will never be done. But I am so much freer now. And love the African ocean and its powerful waves. I love the wildness. I love the untamed.

Since I was a child I mostly admired those I considered to have broken free. At first those who rebelled in obvious ways, though I soon came to realize that, that in and of itself is another form of prison. To be free is to do what your heart chooses at any one  moment. To not worry. Not about life, nor about other people. Most rebels have angst, rather than love, driving them. Many want to be seen, as opposed to having their cause seen. Not all. Some are true rebels. Mandela started with angst and ended with love.

I became better at breaking free with the years. Yet, I started so far closed in that what felt like freedom was merely “a little bit freer.” I walked into a few traps along the way too. You think you’re doing great, but really you aren’t. You are faced with someone gossiping or backstabbing you and suddenly your walls are higher than a ten foot fence. You apply logic and retract. And suddenly you’ve taken ten steps back. Only you don’t notice. Because you are still five steps further along than you were before.

Or you set out happily with something, only to have old thoughts come in and overshadow the happiness. I set out as someone happy to be making a difference in South Africa. I ended up someone who thought no matter what I did it wasn’t enough, because I didn’t have enough resources. The inferiority I felt in childhood came back to haunt me. It seemed like outside obstacles, dealing with difficulties, but it was the inside all along. I did do enough.

I set out someone happy to explore my innermost dreams in a business only to become someone worrying about every step and working myself to the bone; constantly worrying about how far I’d gotten or what investors would say.

There was nothing left of me a few weeks ago because I’d worked so hard for so long, thinking it wasn’t enough. That nothing I’d ever do would be enough. Then something shifted. I broke completely free. I could really feel myself living without a three ton pressure on my shoulders of wanting to do more and be more. Joy returned to me.

The intention with my business and creative movie endeavors was always to give others joy. To make them see the beauty in life. Because I always treasured that. But maybe for the first time I could feel it. As if I lived it instead of watching it from the outside. As if I deserved some for myself.

I thought I felt like that before, but I didn’t. I just didn’t know. I caught glimpses. Because with each event that crumbled my walls they grew less imposing. Other events rebuilt some parts of the walls. And what I now think is free might not be as free as I am tomorrow.

I grew up a poet, but I killed my own poetry. Most of us do, to some extent.

Suddenly it’s not fear. It’s not over the top excitement. It’s not sadness for what has been. It’s just this sense of possibility. That things are possible. That you can live. Truly live. In every moment. Even I. Not just giving that gift to others, but actually doing it myself.

Confessions of a Dizzy Blonde - The lure of what's beneath...

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Filed under confessions, Joy, Life, personal thoughts

The midnight train to Paris…

The sound of waves gently caressing the hull was like a lullaby at night, whilst in the morning it would slowly awaken me, call me back to the world, together with the smell of coffee and sea salt. Living on a boat in the Swedish archipelago many summers as a child would bring me a sense of oneness with nature I would never forget – BBQs in natural harbors where the rock of the island was the actual harbor, fiery red sunsets at eleven o’clock at night as the sun dropped behind the horizon, experiencing a new island every day with the feeling of being an explorer, fishing for your own food and cooking in the outdoors, using the ocean as your bathtub and the sensation of living simply for the pleasure of another day was, as much as I’ trying to describe it, indescribable.

Those were my Swedish summers for you growing up. Of course, Swedish summers were a lot more than that though. Back then I was insecure and unhappy in myself. Today not so much. In fact, I’m pretty dang happy most of the time. Yet, sometimes I look back and think that from then till now I achieved nothing. It’s not true. I educated myself for seven years, I traveled the world, I started working as a writer, I started working with a charity and I got two foster kids. Not to mention I grew as a human. Exponentially. I became the adventurer I always dreamed of being, but I didn’t produce the art I thought I would, within the timeframe I thought, let’s just put it that way. And it made me sad – I want to be free to create what I want 24/7. Live my passion. Don’t we all?

Then I realized that time is now. This is my life. And pushing myself beyond the breaking point, or feeling stressed because I want to live the dream right now or I want to show something off to the world that I’ve accomplished – my movie, my novel, my photography exhibition, my company…just doesn’t serve me. Nor does looking back and thinking about what I should or shouldn’t have done. It’s not about failing or winning, it’s about enjoying this very moment. Because this very moment is my life.

As I said on Facebook:

Having celebrated my birthday this week I’ve reflected a lot over where that midnight train to Paris really took me when I left home thirteen years ago. Did I make the right decisions? Did I achieve what I wanted to achieve? No. I made some pretty crappy decisions. I didn’t achieve all I wanted. But I set sail towards my dreams full speed and God knows I did a lot of things, saw a lot of things, learnt a lot of things and traveled the world exploring life like I always dreamed of. It just wasn’t as easy as I always dreamed of – I didn’t have all the answers to the riddles along the way, at least not immediately. Looking at it this week, reflecting, I wondered if I was a success or a failure? Then I realized all I have is this moment. I hold life in my hands. It’s a precious gift. And it’s mine. There is no right or wrong so long as I don’t intentionally hurt people or the planet. There is really no greater achievement than just to live on your own terms, following your own heart. Measuring sticks belong to others. Your life belongs to you. Life’s an adventure, not an achievement – there will be obstacles and sometimes you will screw up royally, but you can still learn, explore and move forward filled with curiosity at the wonder and depth of this thing called life. And I highly recommend getting on the midnight train to wherever your heart wants to go…there’s just something about sleeping on a train and waking up where your heart comes alive with the adventure of your very own life story…the one that’s still unwritten…

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When the wind is blowing in the opposite direction…

Nothing’s ever perfect. I keep being reminded of the part in The Alchemist where the boy arrives in Africa and loses his money on the first night. He’s on a quest to get to Egypt and he has just lost all his savings, he can’t even return to Spain. He realizes he has a choice – he can either see it as a complete failure, or as the beginning of an even more daring adventure than he could ever have dreamed of. The boy chooses to see it as an adventure. He then proceeds to get a job polishing glass and he helps the shop owner by introducing serving tea to the customers. He spends years polishing glass. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, but we all have a choice: greet the sun with a smile in the morning, or proceed to look at the sun with envy as we ourselves hide in the shadows.

You can shift your mind about almost anything and you can choose to accept that your adventure is now. That doesn’t stop some things from being difficult to the point where you’re almost completely depleted. The point is, if you keep looking to the sun as part of you, sooner, rather than later, it will return.

Last fall was not a happy time for me. I had left what I felt were some of the most joyous, secure parts of my life – my two best friends, the city I loved and the first home I’d ever had that felt like a home – our gorgeous chalet in the Hollywood Hills. I no longer fell asleep watching the stars and the twinkling lights of Los Angeles. I no longer drove to Malibu in the weekends to jump through the waves. The sun that I so adored, seemed far, far away. There was one point when I was struggling at work (and given I work for my business partner, who is also the investor for my dream company, that was not easy), I had a rash from the cold and felt about as sexy as a burnt toast (I’m not made for winter, pointe blanc), I had found out some friends were potentially ill (and I don’t mean with the flu), I had absolutely no desire to date anyone, my social life was a mess as I was still new in town, my back was as my back is – aching and causing headaches, I felt drained, tired…I lost weight (not for lack of eating, but because my body was just drained), I looked like hell. I knew though, I knew that in LA I had been on top of my game, so there was a place inside where everything was well. It was just a matter of transforming that to the outside.

It took all my strength to turn things around, because let’s face it: when shit hits the fan it’s not like your energy levels are on top and you are ready to play the game of your life, but that’s exactly when you have to play the game of your life. That’s part of the adventure; the trials of the hero.

For me the most difficult part was probably worrying about a friend, but what completely drained me was work, because every day I’d make a new mistake, fret about my future and be completely exhausted by the end of it. It’s easy to say let go of your worries, but when nothing seems to be going your way and you feel like each day you get a new bucket of ice water thrown in your face and you’re not sure how to reach any of your goals, it doesn’t come across as all that easy. I was lucky. I had a fucking strong spiritual core that I kept returning to – a place of love – but whereas in LA that would take me five minutes to get to, here it could take me five hours and last for five seconds (great sex right there…).

Today when I look at my life I look at a smiling boss and business partner who has finally agreed the go-ahead of our company (I mean it was already incorporated, but that means very little without the dough) – once they find a replacement for me in his other company it’s go (well, part-time go…my salary from my company isn’t exactly erm, high). I look at my social life and I feel joy and peace. I look at working with a project that supports kids in London and South Africa and I feel like walking on clouds…a twelve year dream finally starting to materialize. I look at potential dates and I smile. I look at someone in the mirror who’s dancing and twirling forwards with dimples in her cheeks.

Today, you see at a woman who is living her dream, feeling sexier, sassier and happier than ever…but she was living her dream a couple of months ago too. It just wasn’t the pretty stuff…but it was the stuff that makes for a good story, a good adventure. And maybe it could have been different, maybe it could have been easier if I had been on a higher level of spirituality, or higher up the mountain, what have you, but we all start from somewhere and then we climb. I got furious at myself at times thinking I was making the same mistakes all over again, but clearly I hadn’t yet learnt how not to make them. You have to be nice to yourself.

What turns things around in life? In stories of great adventure it’s usually a dashing Prince, or Princess (or Jester, I stick by that one, LOL) isn’t it? Or it’s the ticket that flies in through the window and you realize that you are soon to be jetting off to Africa… Or it’s winning the lottery…or getting the dream job as if by magic.

In life I think the real turning point is love. It’s a place of love in your heart, where you allow for the magic to happen. It’s the desire to change things around, coming from that place and acting from that place. If you live in that space of free flow, of intuition and love…life does change bit, by bit, by bit. Sometimes over night, but often after many small steps of love. That doesn’t fool-proof you from storms, it just teaches you how to fly a bit better and a bit higher than before on a day-to-day basis.

So once again: love peeps. May it flow in abundance and may you have the strength to find it when life is rough and the dream of tomorrow seems far away. Even when you cry, may you love so that gates are opened for more love to enter, to heal you and move you to safe harbours.

You are always a heartbeat from anywhere: open your heart and be ready to fly when the right wind sweeps by…and it always will, you just have to have patience for it to come round and make the wind chimes chime…

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Maybe that night we make love till morning…

Sometimes we feel small and insignificant. Much like a tiny girl, walking up a massive mountain. We aren’t quite sure of where we are, or where we will end up. We have an idea of where we want to go – to the top – but the path is winding and we can’t always see the top – there is fog, trees and sometimes fires blocking the sight.

There are nights, when we are curled up by the fire watching a starry sky, and we feel calm and serene, and the path we are walking feels like the loveliest thing ever. Our muscles are tired after a day’s worth of climbing, in fact we are feeling tired through and through, but a good tired – we lived. We lived to the full and we are still buzzing, still filled with life and life force. We are almost giddy with excitement of all the wonders we have seen and are yet to see. Our eyes are still glazed with the beauty of butterflies catching the morning breeze underneath their wings, or the glorious sight of rainbows and waterfalls. Maybe a sudden thunderstorm filled us with power, with lust and then a gentle drizzle calmed our spirits shortly after, only to be followed by sunshine that made us laugh.

We may be sharing our camp fire with some exhilarating stranger we have met whose faces tell tales of faraway countries and adventures more fearful, more wild than we could ever imagine…or maybe adventures so sweet and lustful we can only dream of….and maybe, maybe one day achieve. Or maybe we are sharing the fire with gorgeous loved ones who are accompanying us on our journey and feel as familiar as our favorite spice.

Maybe the night is filled with laughter and excited whispers and tender words. Maybe children are playing and grown-ups smiling. And maybe, long after the kids have gone to bed, everyone is sharing tales that make our heart sing. Maybe we have found a boy whose eyes are sparkling in the moonlight and seemingly reflecting not just the moon, but our own soul, making us feel understood. Maybe for that moment it all makes sense – the search, the climb, the path that we are now on. Maybe that night we make love till  the morning.

At other times we are utterly lost – it’s raining, our knees are aching, we can’t see the top of the mountain – we are walking upwards, but we have no idea if we will ever reach the top, or at least find enough treasure to buy a fire that is always burning, a bottle that is always full, a bed that is always protected and love that is always tender. We are fearful, tired and soaked to our bones. We seek the light in our soul, the inner warmth, the love we know is hidden there, but the fear is overwhelming and the panic seemingly real as the night closes in on us and we shiver.

We  think about friends we have lost, lovers that crossed our path. We think about the chances we never took and those we should never have taken. We think about our own death and wonder where we will be then? Will we have reached the top? Or will we still be fearful and lonely?

We try to fight it, to be strong, but we only get angrier and angrier with ourselves when we do – because we are meant to be strong, right? We are meant to conquer the rain and walk with joy in our heart. We are meant to have learnt enough to find our way by the stars. We aren’t supposed to be lost, or lonely, or tired, or hungry. We are supposed to know better, be better.

Then, we give up. We remember what being truly tiny meant – what it was like being a child. When the world felt large and scary and we jumped up into our parents, or siblings laps and cried, or were just held tight. We were stil told that we were beautiful, that we were loved. No one gave up on us because we slipped and fell. They just hugged us better. We remember that it was OK then. OK to be lost and frightened and sooner, or later we found our way – whether by ourselves, or with the help of others. We felt tiny back then too. We felt scared back then too. But we weren’t angry with ourselves. We just were. We just allowed ourselves to be and somehow, somewhere, we always found the love we needed to find, the light to lit up the deepest night.

Then we take a moment to rest. We sink down, our back towards a cold fir-tree. The cold, suddenly intense against our back, awakens us. We look around. We see a tiny hare, followed by another tiny hare, looking out at us from underneath the bushes. We slowly reach out our hand. We are in desolate parts where man rarely walks and the hares have not yet learnt to fear us. We slowly look at them, as they are looking at us. In their eyes we see our own fear and trepidation reflected. We see curiosity and hope. We see warmth and love.

One of the hares slowly, slowly moves over, seeing whether to trust us. And then, with a final jump it is by our hand, sniffing it. Its nose feels warm against our cold skin. It keeps sniffing around, then suddenly jumps up, into our lap, and looks at us with big eyes. The other hare now follows, carefully, but bravely, seeing the success of its fellow friend. And then, you have them both in your lap, sharing their warmth, their lives with you.

Everywhere the rain is drizzling, turning the wood into a hazy, almost surreal place. The raindrops glisten in the final hour of dusk and the sun is making one last effort to shine through, turning everything golden. You feel a little warmth from it against your skin and the hares’ body heat radiating through your clothes, into your stiff, frozen bones. For a moment you are sharing your life with two other creatures, like yourself, trying to stay warm, find food, love and happiness. You are helping each other, understanding one another. Suddenly life has conquered and you once again feel calm – inside a new dawn has awoken.

You feel fresh. Every part of you has been shaken – you have been lost and you are still lost, but inside you have found the light. You know that as night comes rolling in you will eat some food that strengthen your body and find peace in your dreams. You will then awaken with the sun and move towards new horizons. Maybe with some furry friends by your side.

It is impossible to know if we will ever reach the top of any mountain. Life is an adventure and as such, we know that there will be struggle, there will be loss, but what will always save us is our own life force, our own love of that which surrounds us, that which we do and those whom we love, including ourselves.

We will continue to get lost and we will continue to get found. Storms will shake us and events move us. We will lose what we have found and move on to find love in unexpected places.

The best we can do is find our own heart, our own peace. We can never know what storm is coming next, or how far we will get the next day. We can only continue to move with a purpose in our heart, which gives meaning to our journey. We can continue to build love in our heart, which will strengthen us and keep us calm in the eye of the storm. We can surround ourselves by love, by doing what we love and taking time to build friendships with those we love, or those we think we will come to love. We can give of what we have, as well as our gifts, our talents, and share our lives with others.

We can love and with love always comes a treasure.

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When you strip someone bare…

There are those days when your whole life shifts around. Suddenly your mind takes you down a path you’ve never walked before – it’s like a gate is opened and you can see this glorious view, this way in life that you didn’t knew existed before. It’s literally like having stared into a wall your whole life and then suddenly someone reveals to you that it’s a door and when you open it up, outside there are beautiful flowers. I think it’s important to remember this. In our darkest moments it might just be that we’re not seeing the sun and if we just start looking, maybe our walls will transform to doors and our windows to staircases to heaven.

It’s not just about circumstances changing, it’s literally one day you wake up to the fact that the world isn’t flat – some perception you’ve always had of yourself, or your life just isn’t true and rather than knowing it you see it, or feel it. It’s not a theory, it’s a reality. You catch yourself thinking differently. Acting differently. And realizing that life could be lived in an entirely different way – whether you meet a person that introduces a new way of thinking, or you see people living in ways you could never have imagined.

The same goes for people – sometimes we should expect the unexpected. Or maybe not expect at all.

It’s days like those when you know that life is filled with so much more than you ever thought possible and that gives hope, but I guess it can also be startling, because no matter how old you are, or how much you’ve been through, to think that you know life, is always an illusion. At least, that’s what I think right now…

It’s like they say: you never know what you’re gonna find underneath the clothes!…

Where to next???… Formaggi sounds good to me… (Eataly, NYC…I could get lost in food all day long there!)

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