“Not every fire needs to burn something down. Sometimes it just needs to light the way.”

Well, would you look at that! It's Monday night, the sun has long since disappeared, I'm finally sitting down to a late dinner, and I'm getting today's Dang Thang Diaries published before the day is officially over. LOL. And you know what? It's actually been a really damn good Monday!

The sun was shining, the snow was melting, and apparently all the animals decided to behave themselves for a change. I'm not entirely sure what I did to deserve this little stretch of peace and productivity, but I'm certainly not complaining!

I've actually had one of those days where I got to focus on my home, my thoughts, my plans, and all those little things that seem to pile up when life gets busy. Not one of those days where I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off, putting out everybody else's fires and wondering where the hell the hours went. Today I got to spend my time on things that mattered to ME, and honestly, I needed it.

I've spent a good chunk of the day getting this old house ready for winter, including putting up the winter curtains. Now, don't get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE my old house. There's something about an older home that just feels right to me. But what I don't love is sitting here minding my own business and suddenly feeling a breeze coming through the windows because the wind has decided to blow in just the right direction. LOL.

So up went the curtains, and another thing got checked off the list!

Of course, with the snow melting, we've officially entered that wonderful time of year when my floors become a permanent collection of dog prints. I swear, I could wash the floors every single night before bed, wake up to a beautiful clean house, and within five minutes of letting the dogs back inside, start questioning every single one of my goddamn life choices.

It's a good thing I love those furry little troublemakers, because honestly, the amount of dirt they can track into this house is impressive. And with multiple dogs going in and out throughout the day, I've pretty much accepted that the mop bucket and mop are now permanent fixtures beside the front door. Not tucked away in a closet or brought out occasionally. Nope. Right there, all day, every day. Welcome to life in rural Alberta, where the seasons aren't just winter, spring, summer, and fall. There's also mud season, which apparently likes to make several guest appearances throughout the year. LOL.

But you know what? Even with the muddy paws and the endless floor cleaning, today has been exactly the kind of Monday I love.

Mondays are truly my ME days. They're the days I focus on my home, organize my calendar, brainstorm ideas, sort through my notes, and figure out what I want the coming week to look like. It's not necessarily a day of doing nothing, because let's be real, I'm not particularly good at that anyway. LOL. It's more about doing the things that matter to me without feeling like I have to spend every waking minute focused on everybody else's priorities.

And today I really, honestly and truly embraced that.

I've managed to check a whole bunch of things off my to-do list, organize some of the thoughts that have been bouncing around in my head, and go through the notes I made over the weekend about everything I want to accomplish this week. Some of those notes turned into actual tasks, some became ideas to revisit later, and others just needed to get out of my head and onto paper so I could stop mentally carrying them around.

I also may have taken a peek or two into the back office to see how my girls' book is doing. Okay, maybe more than two. LOL.

I am just so STINKING excited for Argie and Jan!

Seeing Where the Crabapple Blooms out in the world, knowing how much love and emotion went into it, and getting to watch their journey continue beyond launch week has been pretty incredible. I'm proud of both of them, and I'm still so grateful that I was invited to be part of something so personal.

But there's something else about this book that I don't think I've fully put into words yet, and honestly, I'm not sure I even know how to explain just how much being part of it has meant to me.

You see, for most of my life, I've buried grief. And I mean YEARS and YEARS of it. Death, loss, losing people I loved, all those emotions that come along with it. I've always been pretty damn good at finding a way to tuck it all away somewhere, pick myself up, and keep moving forward. Life doesn't stop just because your heart hurts, right? There are still things that need to get done, people who need you, and responsibilities that don't magically disappear because you're grieving.

And for a very long time, that's pretty much how I handled it. I kept going. I carried on. I convinced myself that because I could talk about someone I'd lost, remember the good times, and even laugh about some of those memories, I must have dealt with the grief. But looking back now, I realize there was a whole lot I hadn't actually allowed myself to feel, never mind work through.

Then January happened, and my whole damn world was rocked.

I'm not going to get into all the details here, but I will say that January changed something in me. Suddenly, I was facing emotions and losses that I couldn't just tuck away in that same old box I'd been using for most of my life. And as difficult as it was, I was finally starting to learn what it meant to actually grieve. Not just survive a loss, not just carry on because life expects you to, but to sit with the emotions, acknowledge them, and begin working through things I'd been carrying for years.

And right in the middle of that journey, along came Argie and Jan with Where the Crabapple Blooms, asking me to help them bring their book into the world.

Now, I don't know that either of them fully realizes just how significant that timing was for me.

Here I was, just beginning to understand my own relationship with grief and loss, and suddenly I was working alongside two women who were sharing some of the most personal, emotional pieces of their lives. Stories of love, family, memories, and the people who had left such incredible marks on their hearts.

As we worked through the book, I found myself doing a whole lot more than helping with a publishing project. I was reflecting on my own losses, remembering people I hadn't allowed myself to properly grieve, and recognizing emotions I'd buried so deeply that I didn't even realize they were still there.

And then they asked me to write the epilogue.

I still get emotional thinking about that. Because writing those words wasn't just about finding a beautiful way to close their book. It meant reaching into my own memories, my own experiences with loss, and some pretty tender places in my heart that I was only just beginning to understand.

Was it emotional? Oh, absolutely. Were there tears? You bet your ass there were. But there was also something incredibly meaningful about being able to honour the people we've loved while learning to give myself permission to grieve the people I've lost.

And that's why I believe so strongly in this book.

Because I know firsthand how easy it is to bury grief without even realizing you're doing it. I know what it's like to keep moving forward for years, believing you've dealt with something simply because you've learned how to live around it. And I know now that sometimes a story, a memory, or somebody else's experience can bring something to the surface that you didn't even know was waiting there.

I don't believe a book magically fixes grief. Hell, I'm still figuring out what grieving actually looks like for me after spending most of my life doing everything I could to avoid it. LOL. But I do believe stories have a way of reaching people in places that ordinary conversations sometimes can't.

And if Where the Crabapple Blooms helps even one person recognize some of the grief they've been carrying, remember someone they love, or give themselves permission to feel something they've been holding back for years, then that's something pretty damn special.

So if you haven't checked it out yet, I really encourage you to take a look at Where the Crabapple Blooms. Whether you're actively grieving someone or you've spent years doing what I did and simply carrying on, there may be something in these pages that speaks to you in a way you weren't expecting.

And speaking of reflection, can we talk about the retrograde energy for a minute? Because holy shit, am I ever feeling it! LOL.

Now, I've always been someone who likes to look at the bigger picture, revisit things, question what's working and what isn't, and figure out where I want to go next. But lately, it feels like there's an extra spotlight shining on all those little things I've been too busy to really sit with.

Old situations, business decisions, relationships, plans, expectations, and even some of my own reactions to things have been popping back into my thoughts. Not necessarily in a bad way, either. More like I'm being given an opportunity to look at everything from a slightly different perspective.

And I'm actually finding it easier to do that right now.

I'm reflecting. I'm reevaluating. I'm revisiting conversations and decisions, and I'm making notes about things I may want to approach differently going forward. But here's the interesting part. I'm not immediately acting on every single thought that comes into my head.

Now, if you know me, you know that when I decide something needs to change, I'm perfectly capable of grabbing the whole damn situation by the horns and making things happen. Sometimes that's one of my greatest strengths. Other times, well, let's just say I've been known to get a little enthusiastic about tearing things apart so I can rebuild them. LOL.

And with INFERNO being my word for 2026, the temptation to just burn the whole damn thing down and start fresh is definitely there.

But not everything that needs to change needs to be destroyed.

Sometimes something needs to be adjusted. Sometimes a boundary needs to be revisited. Sometimes an old plan no longer fits, or a conversation needs to happen that I've been putting off. And sometimes I just need to give myself a little time to figure out whether something genuinely needs to change or whether I'm reacting to everything else going on around me.

So that's what I'm doing.

I'm writing things down, letting myself sit with them, and giving those thoughts a little breathing room. When things feel less intense, I'll go back through my notes and see what still makes sense, what still matters, and what actually deserves my time and attention.

Because the last thing I need is to make a bunch of major decisions in the middle of some wild retrograde energy, only to look back a few weeks later and wonder what the actual fuck I was thinking. LOL.

And no, that doesn't mean I'm ignoring things that need to be addressed. It just means I'm choosing when and how I want to address them instead of letting every frustration dictate my next move.

And now, here I am, sitting down to a late dinner, finally getting this blog finished and ready to publish. The sun has long since set, the house is settling into the evening, and I'm looking back on a Monday that actually felt like MY Monday.

The winter curtains are up, my calendar is looking a little more organized, my notes are making sense, and I've made some real progress on things that matter to me. The snow melted a little more today, the animals behaved themselves, and the floors are... well, let's not get carried away. They're probably already covered in paw prints again. LOL.

I don't have every answer. I haven't figured out every decision I need to make, and there's still plenty sitting on my to-do list for the rest of the week. But today wasn't about figuring everything out. It was about taking care of my home, giving myself room to think, celebrating people I care about, and remembering that I don't have to act on every thought the second it shows up.

And honestly, as I sit here eating my dinner and getting ready to hit publish, I'm feeling pretty damn good about that.

Besides, if I decide something really does need to burn down and be rebuilt, I'd rather make sure I've got a damn good plan before I light the match. LOL.

Let's go Do the Dang Thang!