Oh, THAT’S Why I Don’t Drink

[Dutch Lock Down Day Two Hundred Eighty Three]

Photo by Kym Ellis on Unsplash

I split a lovely bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon with a dear friend of mine (Hi, S!) for Christmas dinner and I think I’m only just now returning to normal functions.

As much as can be expected with the entire family about for the holidays.

I’m still figuring things out, but….

But first the news:

I’m still figuring things out, but before I do, I have to finish binge watching Netflix’s Bridgerton.

It’s positively addictive!

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Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

[Dutch Lock Down Day Two Hundred Eighty]

Finished wrapping presents this morning.

Placed everything in its place.

Bought the ingredients for the three dishes I’m making for tomorrow night’s dinner.

We opened stockings tonight and tomorrow morning we’ll attack the big presents – this wasn’t in the plans, but COVID shifted things a bit.

Want to hear the plot hook?

But first the news:

Picking up kids from daycare today at 1800:

“Tomten’s the Swedish gnome who brings the big presents on Christmas Eve, yeah? And American Santa Claus brings the stockings on Christmas Day, right? Well, we’ve been home all day and NOTHING’s arrived. So let’s go investigate what happened, yeah? We should’ve at least seen Tomten, but we haven’t. And we don’t have any gifts. And the stockings are empty. What do we do?”

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The Expansion of the Leadership Project

[Dutch Lock Down Day Two Hundred Fifty Five]

The Leadership Project is one of four sections within the Farmer Project and I did this whacky thing the other day, see, cause I finished it.

Mostly.

I still have a few ongoing goals and I’d love to become a Distinguished Toastmaster, but otherwise, I finished.

What do I do now?

Good question.

But first the news:

I finished it weeks ago, actually, but had a BUNCH of things to distract me like hormones and civil suits and, well, all kinds of adventures, but decided to put my foot down and focus this week with my kickass life coach, Rachael.

And so we did.

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Frankly, My Dear, I Don’t Give A Damn

[Dutch Lock Down Day Two Hundred Fifty Four]

Photo by Ravi Roshan on Unsplash

Yes, I forgot to write yesterday until it was time for bed, past time for bed, in fact, and then, instead of staying up even later, I took a deep breath in, let it out, accepted that I wouldn’t write today’s post today, and went to bed.

So today’s post is care of tomorrow and you’re reading this from the future.

Ain’t. Life. GRAND.

This week, in pursuit of the Farmer Project, I dove into radical compassion and, orthogonally related, discovering another word for self-improvement.

But first the news:

I don’t like the word self-improvement.

It implies that you’re less than now and once you completely self-improvement, you’ll be better than.

And growth reminds me too much of plants. I kill plants. Also, why is a bit of height or a step towards death, without any effort, considered a good thing. And what’s the opposite? When I’m not growing, I’m … shrinking?

No.

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