Synergy Ltd.

12/06/2025

06/06/2025

29/05/2025

21/05/2025

“IT COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE.”

17/05/2025

The end of another ERAS tour tribute.

I met Elise in 2006. We were P4 “reading moms,” and our boys were friends at Saltus. From 2006 to 2012, our friendship deepened as we navigated the challenges of raising boys in an entitled environment while trying to keep them grounded and kind. “Suck it up, Buttercup” became our mantra. We spent countless hours on the pool deck—she coached, I officiated—all in support of our young swimmers (who, amazingly, are still swimming and still friends, even though one is in the UK and the other is in Australia).

During that first chapter, Elise became an anchor for our family while I was back and forth to Penn for my graduate degree. She stepped in, supported, and became Liam’s “other mother”—a title I don’t give lightly.

Her move to London in 2012 was hard, but we stayed close. Without her, I’m not sure how the Pen*stons would’ve managed Liam’s whirlwind UK university tour in 2014. We even adopted the “Elise Method of Avoiding Jet Lag”—a ritual that originally involved a bit of Pimm’s—and we still credit her for that (and many other Elise-isms). She became the sister I never had.

Expats don’t often return, but I was lucky. In 2018, Elise came back to Bermuda for chapter 2. This time, we were facing a new phase of life—kids leaving the nest, aging and dying parents, menopause, and all the gifts (and grief) of growing older and wiser. We found time to play trivia, and we returned to the pool this time as swimmers, forming our own little swim club: the Floaties. Countless kicking sessions, solving the problems of the world—one lap at a time.

Seven years on, and today, my Floatie left for Boston. This should be her final ERAS tour before she can retire as the CEO of Cooper, Ltd.

Elise is one of the most humble, selfless, quietly powerful, and deeply resilient people I know. She’s not the most effusive person—but maybe that’s what made our time together such a beautiful contrast to my “day job.” And while she may be understated, she loves to laugh—and my God, have we laughed. She is one of the most capable, grounded, and loyal people I’ve ever met. She has shown up for me more times than anyone should ever be asked to.

She is my ride-or-die.

Today, I couldn’t find the words to tell her how much I’ll miss her—because there was a lump in my throat, and I felt like throwing up. But I hope she knows this: she has left an indelible impact on my life and my family. We are better because of her.


*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*

17/05/2025

The End of Another ERAS tour tribute.

Elise Part 2: Expats don’t often return, but I was lucky. In 2018, Elise came back to Bermuda for chapter 2. This time, we were facing a new phase of life—kids leaving the nest, aging and dying parents, menopause, and all the gifts (and grief) of growing older and wiser. We found time to play trivia, and we returned to the pool this time as swimmers, forming our own little swim club: the Floaties. Countless kicking sessions, solving the problems of the world—one lap at a time.

Seven years on, and today, my Floatie left for Boston. This should be her final ERAS tour before she can retire as the CEO of Cooper, Ltd.

Elise is one of the most humble, selfless, quietly powerful, and deeply resilient people I know. She’s not the most effusive person—but maybe that’s what made our time together such a beautiful contrast to my “day job.” And while she may be understated, she loves to laugh—and my God, have we laughed. She is one of the most capable, grounded, and loyal people I’ve ever met. She has shown up for me more times than anyone should ever be asked to.
She is my ride-or-die.

Today, I couldn’t find the words to tell her how much I’ll miss her—because there was a lump in my throat, and I felt like throwing up. But I hope she knows this: she has left an indelible impact on my life and my family. We are better because of her.


*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*

17/05/2025

The end of another ERAS tour tribute.

Elise Part 1: I met Elise in 2006. We were P4 “reading moms,” and our boys were friends at Saltus. From 2006 to 2012, our friendship deepened as we navigated the challenges of raising boys in an entitled environment while trying to keep them grounded and kind. “Suck it up, Buttercup” became our mantra. We spent countless hours on the pool deck—she coached, I officiated—all in support of our young swimmers (who, amazingly, are still swimming and still friends, even though one is in the UK and the other is in Australia).

During that first chapter, Elise became an anchor for our family while I was back and forth to Penn for my graduate degree. She stepped in, supported, and became Liam’s “other mother”—a title I don’t give lightly.

Her move to London in 2012 was hard, but we stayed close. Without her, I’m not sure how the Pen*stons would’ve managed Liam’s whirlwind UK university tour in 2014. We even adopted the “Elise Method of Avoiding Jet Lag”—a ritual that originally involved a bit of Pimm’s—and we still credit her for that (and many other Elise-isms). She became the sister I never had.

*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*

15/05/2025

11/05/2025

08/05/2025

01/05/2025

WE SEE WHAT WE BELIEVE

28/04/2025

Our final stop on this unforgettable adventure was Little Governors’ Camp, tucked right along the edge of the legendary Masai Mara National Reserve. The Mara is one of Africa’s most iconic wildlife destinations, it truly felt like stepping into the safari of my imagination.

We were collected at the small airstrip by Oliver, our seasoned and knowledgeable guide. Our accommodations were very comfortable and connected to nature offering front-row seats to the constant parade of wildlife around the marsh and a beautiful communal tent where we gathered around the bonfire for evening drinks and delicious, locally sourced dinners.

Getting to and from the camp was its own little adventure: a short boat ride across the Mara River, followed by an escorted walk into camp.

One of my unexpected camp favorites? The resident warthogs—“Pumbas,” or as the guides affectionately called them, "lion sausages," because they sprint from danger and then forget why they’re running. I fell in love with their daft charm.

Our very first afternoon drive was incredible: we spotted so many species, including several lions—and even witnessed a mating pair (felt a little like watching feline p**n!). We saw a lion so stuffed from feasting on a hippopotamus that it could barely move, and were lucky enough to see a cheetah and a surprise encounter with a serval cat!

We were always escorted between our tent and the main area by an armed Maasai guide after dark. At night, we slipped into our warmed beds and drifted off to sleep surrounded by the wild, beautiful sounds of the Mara—already excited for the morning’s big adventure: a sunrise balloon ride.