As we march on towards 2018, I thought it might be nice to think about the good bits in my life this past year. It’s too easy to look back at all the things that didn’t work out the way we wanted them to, too easy to miss all the small (and not so small) happenings and wonderful people that make the days better. All the things that we forget every time we look at the news, or often even just when we look at our own lives.
I’m not talking big things here – sometimes, things don’t need to be big to make a difference. More than sometimes, I think. The stranger that compliments your hair (or the stuffed dragon you’re carrying around). The postman that gets your mail to you even when it’s addressed wrong. Watermelon in summer and hot chocolate in winter. Tea in your favourite mug (even when it’s unsuitable for posting on a PG blog such as this). Unexpected cards or a letter in the post. Things that matter far more than their size. Things that are so terribly easy to forget.
So, in no particular order, I’m going to say a few thank yous, because that seems to be a nice way to see the year out.
Thank you to my IRL (in real life) friends. If it wasn’t for you, I’d become grafted to the computer, a small wormy creature that screams in the sunlight. Thank you for dragging me out, putting up with my eccentricities, and cheering me on in your own lovely ways, even when you’re not quite sure what it is I’m doing. Honestly, half the time I’m not sure what I’m doing. Your support matters more than you can possibly imagine.
Thank you to my on-line friends. You are amazing. You understand that crowds can be too crowdy, people can be exhausting, social skills are mysterious animals, and small cosy corners can be the only things that save your sanity. You also understand the horrors of re-writing and editing, the terror of the synopsis and query letter, and the difficulties of talking words when you’ve already used them up writing. You’ve supported me, taught me, lifted me up, and made me think that I’m sometimes funny (this last is a dangerous thing). You also understand the importance of dragons, cat GIFs, and bad monster movies. You are my people.
Thank you to my own small family, the SO and the little furry muse. The SO for being endlessly understanding, supportive, and monumentally over-excited by Beaufort Scales. And for making me good food all the time, so I don’t exist on cuppa soups and porridge. The little furry muse for being little, furry, and muse-like (in other words: obtuse, moody, unreliable, and never coming when called, but being gorgeous and adorable all the while). Also for listening in long-suffering silence while I read my stories aloud, even if she does sleep through most of it and make me doubt the dramatic impact of my words.
Thank you to those lovely family members that, while on the other side of the world, happily read my posts and share them on facebook, and never ask me when I’m going to get a real job. And to the ones that don’t do the facebook thing, but show their support in their own ways. We may not talk much – phones are another thing I’m not very good at – but I know you’re there. And thank you for understanding that, too.
And then there are are some things I’m just generally thankful for.
Chocolate. Because some writing days run on pure willpower and sugar.
Yorkshire tea. Because all days run on tea.
Good books, because good books are magical. Bad books, because they give me hope. Books, really.
The wonders of modern technology, because without it I’d have approximately 99.5% less friends, would have to go out to interact with people, wouldn’t know what garden plants can kill people or how long common poisons take to act, and would have no way of ordering Yorkshire Tea.
Sunny days and rainy days and storms and blue skies, because for a while there I didn’t even notice them, and now I do I love them so much. Although, if I was to be picky, could we just go with cold or hot seasons, as the inbetween ones are tricky?
Myself. Being healthy (other than the chocolate), being happy, dreaming of dragons, and setting them out into the world. Because there was a time when I couldn’t imagine being able to be or do any of those things.
And you. Because you’re reading, and hopefully smiling, and maybe nodding a bit. Maybe you pop by to read every week, or every other month, or maybe you’ve never been by before. But you’re here now, so thank you to you, as well. You’re wonderful, and amazing, and need to tell yourself so right now. Now. I mean it. Or I’ll set dragons on you.
And now it’s your turn – what and who do you want to thank for getting you through this year? And make sure you include yourself!