Get Your Own Flowers

Don’t wait for someone to bring you flowers. Plant your own garden.
I’ve been thinking about how lately it feels like I’ve stepped from the solid ground onto a frozen lake that could crack at any minute. I’m doing big girl things for the first time in a long while. I’m googling terms I feel like I should know at my age. Vested pensions…Dividends…Huh?
I’m entering into a bunch of unknown territories all at once. I’m saying “no” to trips on a whim (gasp) and “yes” to taking care of me. All on my own. Making the decisions, signing the contracts, doing the things. Crackle crack pop? I’m a bit nervous and tired. But the truth is, when I really, really look at it, I’m not stepping onto a frozen lake. I’m stepping from it. Right onto solid ground. A ground where I can jump up and down. A ground where I can build on. A ground where I can plant this damn garden…with allllll the flowers *I* want. Yes.

Alright, now to figure out what an Aztec form is…

 

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