Posted in self care, Uncategorized

Love, Me (love me?)

Happy-Self-Love-Day[1]Author’s note – you have not fallen through a hole in the space-time continuum. This piece was originally posted February of 2014. I would have posted something new, but I am suffering from post-superbowl syndrome (#Ramshouse). The EIC was kind enough to remind me that I could have written something Saturday and scheduled it to post today – to which I not-so-kindly say “STFU”. Happy V-day everyone!

It’s Wednesday February 12th, so we are currently being bombarded with advertisements from florists, jewelers and chocolatiers, all reminding us that Friday is that All Important Day to Prove our Love. Everywhere you look, there are messages about pampering your love, celebrating your relationship and BUY BUY BUY! To be honest, I’ve never been a huge Valentine’s Day fan, but this year I am (and not just because I saw a receipt for a florist in my husband’s pocket…).

This pre-Valentine’s Day celebration is special. I am part of a group of women who are blanketing the world with love. Instead of stressing the value of flowers, chocolate and jewelry for your Significant Other, we are stressing the importance of self-love (and not in an x-rated, “batteries not included” way). The idea of falling in love with oneself has come along at a very important time. My daughter is not-quite fourteen, which is a dangerous time for girls. Up until now, she’s managed to avoid or ignore the media messages on beauty and self-loathing. It’s coming soon, I can tell. I’ve seen her looking at herself in the mirror, standing sideways and pulling her shirt tight, trying to decide if the clothes are making her look fat, or if she needs to lose “just five pounds”. She recently gave up soda, and is limiting her intake of salty and processed foods. Some mothers would be proud of their daughter for making healthy eating choices. I am not. Don’t get me wrong. I am very proud of my daughter for wanting to take care of herself. I am worried that she is doing it for the wrong reason – that she is changing her diet because she thinks she is fat, and not because she wants to be healthy. I hope I am wrong.

When I was young(er), I was fearless. I had no doubt that I could accomplish anything I wanted to do. I wore kookie clothes and had weird haircuts and laughed too loudly and talked too much. Somewhere along the way between Then and Now, something happened and I became someone else. There’s nothing wrong with the person I’ve become. I’m a nice person with a nice life and nice friends living in a nice town…I’m just not me. I’m not sure what happened, but I blame the EIC (The Evil Inner Critic).

The EIC is the voice that tells us to smile instead of laugh, to listen instead of talk. He tells us that we’re not good enough, or smart enough, or pretty enough or talented enough to pursue our dreams. The EIC is the one who tells us to give up and settle down and live a nice life in a little pink house in surburbia – and then tells us that we don’t fit in – that we need to cut our hair and change the way we dress, that we need to buy a minivan and join the PTA. The EIC encourages us to change, to camouflage our true self and blend, and then laughs at us for trying.

Thanks to the reminder from the women involved with Madly in Love with Me, I am rediscovering myself. I’m the person with the misbehaving hair who snorts when she laughs. I have given up the carpool and committees and returned to writing and standup and singing loudly and off-key in my car. I have stopped caring about what strangers think of me, and am hopeful that eventually the only opinion which will matter to me is my own. The EIC still yammers at me, but his voice is getting softer, and has been joined with other voices. Voices that tell me they want to paint, and dance in the rain, and wear bright colors and sparkly shoes. Voices that belong to my True Self, who has been patiently waiting for me to listen.

This, then, is the lesson I am learning, the one thing I want to teach my daughter while I still have a chance to influence her opinion. A lesson that has taken me 30 years to remember.

Whatever you do, be true to you.

Posted in Uncategorized

The F-word

Good morning and welcome to my favorite F-word –



In the interest of full disclosure, I have to admit that Friday is not the F-word I use most often, but one of my New Year’s Goals is to be less like a drunken sailor and more like a Responsible Adult. No, I don’t know why. and so far I have not been very successful at it. If people could just stop being asshats and play nicely in the sandbox, I might have a better chance at achieving my goal.

But enough about me – it’s Friday, which means it’s time for a Fun Fact (special shoutout to the #factsite for today’s fact):

The English name Friday comes from the Old English Frīġedæġ, meaning “Day of Frige.” This is as a result of the Old English goddess Frigg (an Anglo-Saxon interpretation of the Norse goddess Freya) being associated with the Roman goddess Venus.

Who knew that today is the Day of (the) Frige? Now that I’m working from home, mine is just a few steps away from the office. They say that we’re supposed to get 10,000 steps in/day (no, I still don’t know who “they” are). I’m having a hard time hitting that goal, too. I could spend less time sitting and more time walking to the fridge, but I’m pretty sure that’s what got me into trouble in the first place #covid15.

Have a great weekend everybody, and thank you for tuning in to this week’s episode of Fun Fact Friday!




I had good intentions of continuing SuzieSpeaks’ Daily gratitude challenge (you know what they say about good intentions) but I got distracted by Fandango’s Dog Days of August challenge. Today’s theme is “blog.” They asked why I started, and because I’m lazy and haven’t finished my coffee, I chose to reblog instead. I swear, I’ll get back to being grateful “in a football minute.” Please note, that football minutes are much longer than regular minutes.

Twisting Suburbia

th5HHDH7O9When I started blogging, I had aspirations delusions of becoming the next Erma Bombeck. My mom and I loved Erma Bombeck, and her posts frequently caused milk (mine) or pink chablis (mom’s) to snort from our nose(s). I find it highly suspicious that my mother died shortly after her favorite author left us.

I started blogging because, as a reluctant suburban soccer mom, I felt out of place and intimidated by the perfectly quaffed Stepford Wives PTA moms (in their slim skirts, clean blouses and 9″ heels) who chatted effortlessly with each other and the school staff at back to school nights and  “Coffee With the Principal” events.

Wait. That’s not right. I started blogging because, as a former DINK (Dual Income, No Kids), I felt out of place and intimidated by the perfectly quaffed new mothers (in their yoga pants and squeaky clean athletic shoes) at the “baby…

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Write Here, Write Now

Posted in Uncategorized

To Join or Not to Join – that is the question

2015-12-20 12.42.27[1]As I said yesterday, I am trying to be a better blogger and person. The second part is proving to be more difficult than the first, because the older I get the less I like people. Yes, I am becoming the angry old man yelling at kids to get off my lawn. Which is weird, since I’m not a man, and nobody plays on my lawn (probably because the landscaping is tippy and weird). I am, however, very tempted to start beating people with my big wooden spoon (FYI spoons are deadlier than you’d think).


But I digress (again. thanks adult onset ADHD!) – I am trying to be a better blogger. I am trying to write on a consistent/predictable basis. The plan was to post on Tuesdays and Fridays. I am well aware that today is neither. Wait. It’s not, is it? As The Doctor says, Time is a big ball of wibbly wobbly timey wimey….stuff, and sometimes I get lost (especially now, in the 2975th day of our enforced staycation).

ANYWAY. Everything I’ve read/heard/seen says that it’s very important that writers join some sort of writing group. Weird, since writing is a solitary action, but okay. I joined a Facebook group. It was weird. No, really. I’ve been involved in blogging groups in the past, and this one is…”unique” (look! I found another word for “weird”).

There was a long list of rules at the top of the post. Normal things, like “be nice”, “no political posts”, “no spam or marketing”, “no running with scissors.” Then it got really strange (another synonym! I am on a roll*), and not just because I couldn’t figure out how they’d know if I was running with scissors. There was a long list of rules for the “share your latest post” thread, and they weren’t really clear. My understanding was that you were supposed to link directly to your post, but also how you were sharing it. You were supposed to tag the person whose post was above yours (because supposedly people were deleting their posts?). You were supposed to “like” the thread, but not until it closed, and then type “done” when you did it? Whaaaaaaat?

Weimaraner with head cocked
image courtesy of

I received a message from the admin that I needed to “complete the thread or risk being removed.” I reached out to the admin with “this is my first time and I thought I was doing this correctly” but he/she/they didn’t bother with assistance, either by responding to my post or via a DM. I  read through the list of rules for a third time, corrected my mistake and moved on.

Well, I thought I’d fixed my mistake. I was tagged again this morning. The admin who couldn’t be bothered to help me had no trouble warning me that I needed  a to “complete the thread or risk being removed, the thread is now closed.”

Not to be repetitive, but….whaaaaaat?

It wasn’t until I left the group (and finished my second cup of coffee) that I realized my mistake. The admin wasn’t wondering where I share MY post (twitter, linked in, facebook, etc) they wanted members to show support for each other by sharing every post in the thread. Granted, there were only 34 posts, but….Whaaaaaaaat?

image courtesy of
I am sure the group works for some people, but not for me. I am willing to read and like and comment on posts. I will share posts when they resonate, or if I think they will be of interests to my friends and followers. I am not going to share a post on what type of fish food underwater basketweavers use, but I bet it’s Velveeta cheese.

It’s nobody’s fault but my own, of course. Maybe my pre-quarantine brain would have understood the rules. I don’t have any way of knowing. That brain ran away screaming and has been replaced by version 2.0. Like many “upgrades” it’s a cheaper product with less memory and frequent “file not found” errors.

I belonged to a group many moons ago. Their rules included things like “be nice”, “no political posts” and “no running with scissors” (how do they know?). They also required that you comment on or share (“not just like”) the three posts above you in the thread. I’m pretty sure that even Brain 2.0 could understand those rules.

I miss that group almost as much as I miss my brain.



So tell me. Do you belong to a blogger’s group? Can I join? Do you think they’ll like me? Can I run with scissors?

*Thanks to my ADHD “synonym” and “roll” have me craving cinnamon rolls. Yumm.





Posted in 2020, Uncategorized

Cheese And Whine (aka I don’t wanna)

cry-baby-whiny-short-sleeve-baby-bodysuit[1]It’s been another rollercoaster week. Spouse got a job (yay!) but he’s only working as a “floater” until a position opens up (boo). Daughter found a low mileage reasonably priced “new to her” car (yay!) the day after we towed our car to the shop (boo!). I usually love rollercoasters, but this rollercoaster known as Life is definitely a four letter word.

I’m well aware that my “problems” are relative, and I’m thankful that my relatives aren’t problems  – everyone is healthy, everyone is safe (knock wood). It’s just…ugh. I’m pissy and hormonal and tired of working from home and tired of being stuck in a smallish house with two other adults and tired of this stupid pandemic and tired of hatred and racism and sexism and all the other isms and I’m just TIRED. I’m tired an whiny and the last thing I want to do is sit at my computer and write, but here I am because it’s been a week and if I don’t write today than I don’t know when I will and I can’t let stress and depression build a block and the brain weasels are racing and the EIC is laughing at me and…..

And yeah. I need some cheese to go with my whine.

image courtesy of canstarblue

I have been using Suzie Speak’s July gratitude challenge as a writing prompt. Today should have been Day 5: Who are you most grateful for? But I’m pissy and hormonal and tired of working from home and…well, you know the rest. I’m in the middle of a pity party and can’t think of anyone or anything I’m grateful for.

But I still wanted to write something. No, I needed to write something. But the need to create doesn’t change the fact that I really don’t feel like writing a blog post.

And in another one of those “there are no such things as coincidences” moments, Christian Mihai’s post dropped into my WordPress Reader. I’m pretty sure he was talking directly to me when he asked “Don’t Fell Like Writing a Blog Post? Me Neither.”

He lists a dozen things he does when he doesn’t feel like writing. They include changing where he writes and reading a bunch of blog posts. One of my favorites is #9. I (Try to) Take a Nap because “whenever I place my head on my pillow, ideas start to pop up out of nowhere. It just happens.” It’s so true – I come up with the most amazing stories I the middle of the night when I’m halfway between dreaming and waking – but do I write them down? Nooooo. I’m always certain that I’ll remember them in the morning – and I never do.

I also like #7. I use Anger to My Advantage. Christian says “When in doubt, I write about the things that anger me…I write about the frustration, the pain, the failures” and says that “Strong emotions will make the process of writing a blog post effortless.”

I’m pretty sure that being whiny is not the same as being angry (although I have to admit that whiny people make me angry) but it did stimulate a post.

And whining venting has helped put my week into perspective. We’re all tired. Tired of the pandemic. Tired of the hate. We’re all dealing with the ups and downs, twists and turns of rollercoaster lives. We’re all struggling to make some sense out of the insanity of the past six months. I think I figured it out. Well I didn’t, but someone did.

image courtesy of

Please. Please stop playing.

So tell me, what’s your favorite whine wine?





Posted in all about me, Gratitude challenge, Uncategorized

Day 3 – Moments and Memories

12.we-remember-the-moments-memories-picture-quote[1]So – It’s July 7th and I should be on Day 7 of Suzie Speaks’ Daily Gratitude Challenge – but I’m behind. I could say that I’ve been busy (in the midst of a quarantine? What could I possibly be busy doing – building a blanket fort?). I could say that I’ve been suffering from writer’s block (I have, for the past 4 months, but that’s not important). I could say that I’ve been cleaning and reorganizing my house, and although my kitchen is clean and my backyard no longer looks like Okie flats, it would be a lie (FYI. I lie and swear a lot). I could say that I’ve let stress, sleep deprivation and my rollercoaster life keep me from leaving my blanket fort…but really, it’s doesn’t matter why. They are just excuses, and excuse is a four letter word. Well, not literally, I may be bad at math, but I CAN count (FYI I lied, again. I excelled at math in school, but I’m not in school any more). ANYWAY I’m on Day 3 on the 7th of July, but you know what they say – better late than never (even more importantly, better late than pregnant).

So, for those of you who haven’t been waiting with baited breath for me to post again (why haven’t you been?), Suzie of Suzie Speaks started July’s Daily Gratitude Challenge “in an effort to inject some positivity into my daily mindset and the online world.” If you’re interested (and even if you’re not), you can find the calendar of daily topics here.

I attempted challenge 1 and 2, but managed to veer off topic (I could blame my caffeine fueled adult onset of ADHD, but really, you should know that I babble by now). I am going to make every effort to complete Daily Gratitude Challenge Day 3: Moments and Memories the way it was intended – as a list of moments and memories. It’s not just because I’m a perfectionist – I really need to put a pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) before they fall out of the holes in my head.

I have a horrible memory. I used to think that everyone’s brain worked like mine – that everyone had a hard time remembering names and places, that as we aged it was normal to forget childhood memories. I’ve always believed that a brain was like a computer’s hard drive and that once it was full, things had to be deleted so that new memories could form. Then I met my husband. His brain is full of useless trivia, and he still manages to hold on to memories from before he could speak. Seriously, there’s a reason we call him Rainman.

Surprise surprise surprise (Side note – why is it I can’t remember my 6th grade teacher’s name, but I can remember Jim Naybors as Gomer Pyle?)

Turns out my inability to remember faces is a “cognitive disorder of face perception” known as prosopagnosia or face blindness. Those of you how know me best might have noticed that I call everyone “honey” or that I don’t always introduced you to each other. Now you know why. I would ask you to keep it a secret, but it’s on the internet, so now everybody knows.  Feel free to discuss it amongst yourselves.

AGGGGHHHH. I’m doing it again. Getting off topic. Let me get this train back on track.

image courtesy of quotesgram
Being a woman “of a certain age” means that I have more moments than I can list here without you nodding off or screaming and running away. But for those of you who have made it this far (thank you) here are a few:

Moments and Memories I am Grateful For:

Seeing my parents come through the door with my baby brother. I was completely ticked off, because I’d asked for a sister, but it was still amazing. There are 8 years between us, and we haven’t always been close, but I’m happy to report that he’s not just my brother – he’s one of my best friends.

The day I was invited to “work the bales” at Drench a Wench/Soak a Bloke. Yes, I worked at a kissing booth at the Original Renaissance Faire. I might have missed out on being crowned mistress of revels, but I met my family of heart.

The night I met my knight in shining armor. My roommate and I were hanging out at “our” pub. She was playing darts with a friend, and I was flirting for free beer (don’t judge me – I was 21 and broke). I flirted with the wrong guy, and stalkerboy couldn’t catch a hint, even after I turned down a free beer. I leaned up into our big, burly friend, batted my eyes and told him to kiss me – and my heart stopped beating (not literally. That would be a fun twist though, wouldn’t it?). That “bolt of electricity” that every bodice ripper hinges on? Yeah, that.

The day my husband proposed. My mother had a doctor’s appointment that day, and he was so agitated and nervous at dinner I was positive he was going to tell me that something was wrong. Instead, everything was perfect.

The day my reserved husband told my soft-hearted mother “I love you” without her saying it first. The smile on her face lit up the room. Three days later she was gone. Who knew that hearing him say that was the one thing she was waiting for?

My doctor’s ski trip.  My obstetrician wanted to deliver our daughter before he left – as it turns out, the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck. Without the warning from the heart monitor, we never would have known.

The smile on our daughter’s face when we surprised her with tickets to Wicked…and Rent…and Into the Woods at the Hollywood Bowl..and Avenue Q (yeah, she’s a theater dork too).

So what’s your favorite memory? Anyone else have the soundtrack from Cats running through their head now? Just the theater dork then.

P. S. I was looking for a featured image for today’s post and came across a Reba McIntyre album. My mom was a huge Reba fan, and my least favorite memory is the look on her face when I told her that my friends and I were headed to the Universal Amphitheatre to see Reba and Brooks & Dunne. I would give anything to be able to go back in time to surprise her with a ticket – because the smile on her face would have lit up the world.




Posted in Gratitude challenge, Uncategorized

I Am Special

image couresty of
Well, it’s July 6th, but I’ve been busy busy busy and so I am only on Day 2 of Suzie Speaks’ Daily Gratitude Challenge. Please don’t ask me what I’ve been busy doing, because I haven’t actually been busy. Yes, I lied. I lie and swear. A lot. Which is ironic, because just the other day I asked my daughter why she lied. Must be an apple – tree thing. I didn’t think you were supposed to become your mother until after you became a dult.

Although Suzie said that “you don’t have to participate every day,” I am using her challenge as a way to spark my creativity. I have also decided to take on the Write Without The Fight’s 5-Day Challenge. I’m hoping that something works since the stress of the past few months have melted my brain and killed my creativity. I should be used to stress by now – the past few years have been a wild rollercoaster of ups and downs. It’s a good thing I like rollercoasters.

But I digress. Today is all about Day 2: What about you makes you special? Hmmmm….that’s a tough one. The only thing that comes to mind is my brother teasing me that I was “special in a short bus sort of way.” My family’s sense of humor is quick and kind of mean. Life in my house was like swimming with sharks – you had to be fast, or you’d be dead meat.

image courtesy of  justgiving
TBH, not everyone in our house was mean. My dad, my brother and I would snip at and pick on each other mercilessly, but my mom was always there when a comment hit too close to home. She was there to dry my tears and remind me that “they were only teasing.” (IMO “teasing” is just a way to say something really hurtful without getting into trouble for it).

My mother was my hero. I wish I’d had a chance to tell her how special she was. Of course, I didn’t always think she was a hero. As a teenager I thought she talked too much and laughed too loudly. I was embarrassed by the fact that she volunteered for EVERYTHING and talked to strangers. She drank too much and cried when her friends were struggling. “Why are YOU crying, it’s HER dog that died.” (Yeah. teenagers are assholes). It’s only since I became an accidental mother that I can appreciate how amazing she was.

She kept a spotless house. Yes, she was a “stay-at-home mother”, but she volunteered for everything and was rarely at home, and she lived with three people who treated her like the maid. The fact that I would take 5 outfits into the bathroom, pick one out and throw the others in the laundry hamper meant that the washing machine was always going. Shoes and books and backpacks were tossed on the counter. Toys were left all over the house and we were always stomping through the house after playing in mud puddles. I’ve learned that it’s hard to keep a house clean when you’re cleaning up after yourself, and 2-3 other people.

She was an amazing cook. She didn’t cook gourmet meals – she cooked comfort foods. Pot pies and chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes and fried green tomatoes (yes she was a southern girl, why do you ask?) and everything finished cooking at exactly the same time and came to the table hot and delicious. And, oh yeah, she didn’t need a recipe. I have her “recipe cards.” She would write down a list of ingredients, without measurements and (occasionally) and oven temperature without cooking time. Her “recipe cards” are basically shopping lists.

Her door was always open. Literally. Granted, it was a long time ago/things were different back then, but the front door was open and the screen door unlocked. Our refrigerator was stocked with snacks and beverages for our friends (Well, maybe not beverages. We drank from the hose when we got thirsty). She hosted dozens of holiday dinners for friends whose families lived across the country.

At her memorial service, I spoke about the fact that my mother struggled with self confidence – that she thought that she was “nothing special/just a housewife.” She was wrong. She was special because she was kind when others were not. She was loving when others turned their backs (she “adopted” my best friend when Kathy’s parents threw her out for marrying an African-American man). She was strong when others were weakened by illness or grief.  She taught me important life lessons:

  • to be kind to everyone you meet.
  •  that there is no such thing as a stranger, just “friends you haven’t yet met.”
  •  the importance of family (both of blood and of heart”
  •  the value of shared grief (grief shared is grief halved)
  •  and the value of shared joy (joy shared is joy doubled)
  •  the importance of keeping a secret
  •  and the destructive power of gossip
  •  when to speak up
  •  and when to keep quiet
  •  to respect others – that I didn’t have to agree with them, but that everyone is entitled to their own opinion

But wait, I hear you say* “Day 2’s challenge is what makes you special.”  I know that. What makes me special? I am becoming my mother, despite my best intentions. It used to irritate me, but I am beginning to recognize it as a blessing. My mother was more special than she knew. As I said before, she was a superhero – the only thing that was missing was her cape. I am my mother and my daughter’s becoming me, and that’s something to be grateful for.


*I CAN hear you, you know – I’m psychic. Or psychotic. I can never remember which.

I was looking for an image for my Featured Image, and came across a whole slew of “I am special” songs for kids on YouTube. This is my favorite by far




Posted in Gratitude challenge, Uncategorized

Today is a Good Day

Yippee kai-yay MF-ers
The Pandemic has made me crazy. Wait. That’s not true. Those closest to me (and some casual acquaintances) will tell you that I have always been crazy – but the months of working from home and being quarantined with two other adults in a smallish house have morphed all my “amusing quirks” into full out madness.

image courtesy of DeviantArt
I’ve spent the past few weeks months struggling to write, to get dressed, to not eat everything in the refrigerator. Today I’m happy to say that I’m up, I’m dressed (sweatpants are pants, it says so right in the name) and I’m back on the “eating healthy and exercising” track (but only because I ate all the ice cream yesterday).

Yesterday the little voice in my head reminded me that we cannot change our circumstances, but we can change our perspective – and I realized that I needed a brighter outlook. I needed to focus on the positive, to stop playing in the pit and start dancing in the rain.


(what I really need to do is stop speaking in trite/clichéd phrases, but that’s a lesson for another day).

In a “There’s no such thing as a coincidence” moment Suzie Speaks’ July Daily Gratitude Challenge dropped into my newsfeed yesterday (daily challenges at end of post). She introduced her challenge by saying:

“We all have those days when things seemingly go from bad to worse, but when reflecting we all have things to be grateful for every day, however small they may be. In an effort to inject a little positivity, I decided to set myself a Daily Gratitude Challenge for the entire month of July, and I am inviting everyone else to join in. I try to be as mindful as possible by taking the time to be grateful for the people around me, the lifestyle that I lead and the positive things that have happened in my day when filling out a Daily Gratitude Journal in my Bullet Journal. I find this enormously helpful when it feels like the world is imploding.”

Full disclosure. I tried keeping a gratitude journal way back in the old days when Oprah first spoke on the importance of gratitude. It lasted a day. I got bored. I got busy. I thought it was silly/stupid/a waste of time. As the mother of a tweenager, I didn’t have much free time (and what I did have was spent sleeping).

But I am willing to try again. What is it they say? Insanity is doing the same thing the same way and expecting a different outcome (which reminds me – who are they and why do they keep saying things?). In an attempt to move into the light, I am willing to try something new (or, in this case, revisit something old).

I’m a day behind, but Suzie told us that “The challenge is open to anyone to join in at any point” and that “You don’t have to participate on the actual day itself to write about a topic in the list.” So I am going to ignore the little voice that’s telling me that I’m too late to join the party and tackle Day 1: What small things have made the day a good one?

At 20 years old and 5’9″, she’s not so small, but my daughter always makes things better. My husband and I are amazed by her big heart and sweet soul, and in awe of the person she’s becoming. I will always be grateful that I became an accidental mother. We are definitely #blessed to have her in our lives.


So what are you grateful for?

For those of you who are interested, here are the daily challenges:

Day 1: What small things have made the day a good one?
Day 2: What about you makes you special?
Day 3: What moments and memories are you grateful for?
Day 4: What is the greatest piece of advice you’ve ever been given?
Day 5: Who are you most grateful for?
Day 6: What challenge are you most grateful for overcoming?
Day 7: What travel experiences have had an impact on your life?
Day 8: What books are you most grateful to have read?
Day 9: What are you looking forward to?
Day 10: What traditions and events are you grateful for?
Day 11: What are you grateful for at this moment?
Day 12: What is the best gift you’ve ever received?
Day 13: What is a luxury you’re grateful for?
Day 14: What songs or pieces of music are you grateful for?
Day 15: What elements of your job are you most grateful for?
Day 16: What hobbies and interests are you grateful for?
Day 17: What are things that make you smile?Day 18: What food brings you joy?
Day 19: What make your home… home?
Day 20: What risks are you grateful for taking?
Day 21: What are your favourite affirmations?
Day 22: What lessons learned are you most grateful for?
Day 23: What makes you feel safe?
Day 24: What random acts of kindness are you grateful for?
Day 25: How do you show your gratitude to help others?
Day 26: What movie are you most grateful for?
Day 27: What place make you happiest?
Day 28: What is something in your life that you didn’t have last year?
Day 29: What aspirations and goals do you have?
Day 30: What are you most grateful for this month?
Day 31: What are you most grateful for this year?