Milo

I recently had the great good fortune to receive a can of Milo in the post ... dear Lizzie, I will never be able to thank her enough.

Milo ... every New Zealander knows about Milo. They sing songs about it ... okay, advertising jingles, but it has entered the psyche of so many New Zealanders.

Lizzie, hmmm I met her when I was at university, we studied English Lit together. By some terrible twist of fate, her parents had two children who were both exactly half my age at some point in our 2 or 3 years studying.

I think Lizzie was 17 when we met, and I was 34, then came her irrepresible brother, Davie, and he was 18 when I was 36. A cruel and unusual pain for such nice people to inflict on a gentle soul such as myself.

Anyway, Lizzie was recently in London ... working on her PhD. We didn't quite manage the meeting, but during a phone call we talked of Milo, and much to my surprise, I discovered that Nestles Milo was for sale over there. She asked if I'd like some, and I wanted to be polite, but how could I resist ...

The can arrived last week ... slightly battered while in transit, but in full and complete working order.

Winter blew in from the North Pole yesterday, making rock melons with ice cream out on the balcony a thing of memory ... tonight I'm making a new memory, here at my desk. It's all about Milo in winter, and it works here too.

A cup of real milk, 2 minutes in the microwave, 1 sugar and 2 teaspoons of Milo ... and I'm someplace like home.

Thank you Lizzie.