From the time my daughter was little into young adulthood, she has always disliked the color purple. So much so, if I ever bought her clothing that had the slightest spec of purple, back to the store it went.

Growing up in a household of equal girl to boy ratio, I was exposed to a good mix of “sugar and spice” and “snakes and snails”. Whether it was summer, fall, winter or spring, racing was always in our blood and lives in some way. Over the years, my Dad and brothers raced in one form or fashion mini bikes, motocross, snowmobiles or cars, and the girls were always rooting them on in spirit, if not in person.

So, what does a single girl do on Valentine’s Day? She hangs with her girlfriends and makes the most of the occasion. Over the weekend I was invited to a “Gal”entine’s’ Day celebration with four of my girlie-gals. We could have whined and complained about not being in a relationship, but instead we celebrated life. It was a fun weekend, and as always, laughter and happiness filled the air.

When it comes to Valentines’s Day, I adore everything about it, including the thought of writing love letters to special people in my life. But how often do we think about writing a love letter to ourselves? If you’re anything like me, probably next to never. This year I decided it was time.

Last week I was chasing sleep all week long. I’d get up every morning vowing to be in bed early that night, but sleep kept eluding me for one reason or another. You know it’s bad when your first waking thought is “I can’t wait until tonight to get back in bed”.

This went on like clockwork for the next two hours, while lively music played. We laughed, sang, bellowed for supplies and bragged to the teams nearby, claiming to complete the highest number of boxes. At the end of the shift, we gathered together to bless the food and pray for its safe arrival.

When I read the funny but poignant sign, it was a reminder of how I want my days to play out…..stress-free. Or, realistically, as close to stress free as possible. So, how does a so called perfectionist learn to have less stress in her life?

A few years ago, a friend had asked me what was my one word for the year…….huh? I wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but I liked the sound of it….”tell me more.” She talked about choosing a word that resonated, and felt right in my heart regarding the upcoming year. One word that would inspire me, one word I would go back to time and time again throughout the year, if not on a daily basis. One word to give the year meaning, one word only meant for me.

With the start of a brand spanking new year and three hundred sixty five….well actually, three hundred and fifty nine days left in 2016, what will you do with your time? Most people set goals, make resolutions, and try to make this year better then the last.

In this shiny new year……be present, dwell in the possibilities, listen to your heart, connect with your soul, invite love in, and shine. Each one of us has a unique light to share….let it sparkle, because you are, without a doubt….imperfectly charming.

Buying gifts for my Dad is challenging, when asked what he wants the answer is usually “It’s not necessary to get me a gift” or “I don’t need a thing.” This Christmas was no exception. The only thing my Dad could come up with was t-shirts, but oh, by the way “Your sister already took that idea.” Drat!

I was invited away for a weekend to Door County, Wi. The first night coming back to the cabin, the air was crisp with a slight bite of the upcoming winter, and the sky was pitch dark. As I glanced up, it almost took my breath away; just from the beauty of the contrast between the blackish, navy sky and the millions of brilliant, twinkling stars. I could hardly pull my eyes away from the universe above my head, back to the earth below my feet.

Each year since my son was two, I have hung a hand made, advent tree for my children to enjoy, which has evolved over the years to the most current one……still tucked away. Reluctantly, last year I decided it would be the final showing for the long standing tradition. It was a sad, but overdue decision; my kids were growing up.

While entering the theatre, every guest was given a bag of props to use during the movie, and I immediately felt the evening would be entertaining. While rummaging through the prop bag, we examined it’s contents, determining the use for each one. In the background, an elderly man played spirited music on what looked like to be a very old organ.

There are no expectations, other than spending a day with loved ones, enjoying good food, along with familiar family traditions. Like the tradition of peeling and cooking potatoes with my brothers. Funny as it seems, it’s something we look forward to each Thanksgiving. We laugh and joke while peeling a mile high, pile of spuds, that eventually turn into the most delicious mashed potatoes extraordinaire……that we are quite famous for. No matter how many we prepare, there are rarely leftovers.

A group of friends gather together every year or so to celebrate with dinner and wine, highlighting a wine’s specific region, country or state; the host’s choice. This year’s hosts decided upon the state of Washington, U.S.A. Each couple was responsible for a course and a Washington wine that paired well with the food.

Last month, a friend and I commited to a personal challenge. When planning the challenge, my friend suggested we have our “why”……what makes this commitment important to us, and I immediately said “I’m in.”  I just had to dig deep to come up with one that really mattered and spoke to my heart.

As the evening began, we toasted our friendship, and raised our glasses for an evening of “Friendsgiving”. I wasn’t able to make the last three get togethers, so it was fun reconnecting on what I had missed. The meal was filled with turkey, dressing, and traditional fixings, as we all pitched in to create the lavish spread. Like always, a prayer of thanksgiving and friendship was offered, and a few tears were shed in love and gratitude.