It was a quiet Saturday morning, January 10th, 2026. I was taking time to have coffee, lounging, and reviewing some of the notes I’d collected for lyrics I planned to write someday. I don’t write lyrics unless my heart is fully in the topic, or unless I give myself a specific assignment. My self-discipline alone can get me through a project, but inspiration always needs to be ready.
On this particular morning, I came across a song I’d started months ago. I had left it unfinished because I couldn’t find the right way to express it. The story I wanted to tell — the profound love between an unborn baby and a mother — felt just out of reach. But today, for reasons I still don’t fully understand, the words finally came to me. What I had been struggling to say flowed naturally, and the story revealed itself fully.
A Song From the Unborn Baby’s Perspective
The unique thing about this piece is its perspective. The ultimate point of the lyric is that it’s the baby singing to the mother. But when you first start reading or listening, if you weren’t aware of it, it might feel as if the mother is singing to her unborn child. The words are written carefully to work both ways — they express love, connection, and awe in a way that feels universal.
By the end, it becomes clear that it’s the baby speaking in song. That twist — the revelation of the perspective — is what makes the piece so special to me. It captures that quiet, intimate moment between mother and child, a love that exists before words, before the first cry, before the baby even takes its first breath.
Why I Wrote It
Even though I’m a grandmother now, I’ve watched the love my children feel for their own babies, and it’s the same overwhelming, indescribable feeling my husband and I have talked about for decades. Nothing compares. This song gave me a chance to explore that love in a way I hadn’t before — through the eyes of the baby, imagining what it might feel to be so connected to the mother, even before birth.
A Song That Works Both Ways
What I love most about this song is how it can be interpreted in two ways. You can read it or listen to it and feel the mother’s love, and only realize at the very end that it’s the unborn baby singing. That duality mirrors life itself — the way we love and are loved, sometimes without fully knowing it. It’s a small reflection of that unspoken, extraordinary bond between mother and child.
Note: The author may receive a commission from purchases made using links found in this article. “As an Amazon Associate, Ebay (EPN), Esty (Awin), and/or Zazzle Affiliate, I (we) earn from qualifying purchases.”
The spark for Slow It Down came at the very first moment of 2026. On New Year’s Eve, just after the midnight bell had rung, I was celebrating with my husband and my youngest adult son. It was one of those quiet, joyful moments — hugs, laughter, and the soft feeling of a new year opening its arms.
In that moment, my son asked me a simple question: “So, what’s your New Year’s resolution?”
I paused. I smiled. And I answered honestly. I told him I didn’t have a resolution in the traditional sense. What I shared instead was what I now call my anti-resolution — my plan to live in every second, every minute, every hour, and every day… and to slow it down.
Saying those words out loud felt different. They landed in a way I didn’t expect.
When Words Turn into a Spark
Almost immediately after I said it, I thought to myself, “Hmm… slow it down. I think I could write lyrics about that.”
The phrase stayed with me. It lingered long after the night ended, quietly echoing in my thoughts.
Sometimes inspiration doesn’t arrive with a loud announcement. Sometimes it just waits patiently for you to notice it.
New Year’s Morning: Where the Lyrics Took Shape
The next morning — January 1st, 2026, the very first day of the year — I found myself curled up in bed, relaxed and unhurried. The world felt still. There was no rush to be anywhere, no pressure to begin immediately. Just space.
That’s when the inspiration fully arrived.
Lying there, I felt deeply compelled to put those words down before they slipped away. I let myself stay in that quiet moment, allowing the thoughts to unfold naturally. Within about an hour and a half, the lyrics to Slow It Down were written — a song born not from urgency, but from presence.
What “Slow It Down” Really Means
This song isn’t about stopping your life, abandoning your goals, or letting your dreams fade. It’s not about doing less — it’s about being more present while you do what matters to you.
Slow It Down is about how we move through our days as we create, build, work, love, and dream. It’s about enjoying the process instead of racing toward the outcome. It’s about noticing the moments that often pass too quickly — the quiet ones, the meaningful ones, the ones that shape us without us even realizing it.
Life is short. And the beauty of it doesn’t live in the finish lines — it lives in the seconds, the pauses, the reflections, and the breaths we take along the way.
An Invitation to Live Differently This Year
Slow It Down is my invitation — not just for a new year, but for any moment when life feels rushed or overwhelming. It’s a reminder that renewal doesn’t always come from doing more. Sometimes it comes from simply being where you are, fully and intentionally.
Wherever you are in your journey — whether you’re creating something new, nurturing relationships, or quietly rebuilding — I hope this song encourages you to savor the moments that make up your days.
Slow it down.
Soak it in.
Let life meet you where you are.
Note: The author may receive a commission from purchases made using links found in this article. “As an Amazon Associate, Ebay (EPN), Esty (Awin), and/or Zazzle Affiliate, I (we) earn from qualifying purchases.”
I wrote the lyrics to "When Crazy Was King" in the 1990s, when I was challenging myself to write story-driven songs that didn't depend on personal confessions or emotional backstories.
A Song Born from Sticker Shock and Storytelling
Even back then, in the 1990s, the cost of living felt steep, and prices were beginning to climb in ways that made everyone shake their head. That sense of disbelief across generations became the spark for the song—but my goal wasn't to write a memoir; it was to write a narrative propelled by voices, memory, and perspective.
Of course, even when we try not to write about ourselves, parts of who we are find their way in. Inflation and how each generation reacts to it became the backdrop. It's something we all feel—whether we're buying our first home, filling our gas tank, or scratching our head at the price of shoes.
The frustration is universal and sometimes humorous, and I wanted to capture it through the voices of four generations in my own family line.
So "When Crazy Was King" began as a project—but became a reflection. A wink to the past, a raised eyebrow to the present, and a nod to how little truly changes in how we feel about money and the world around us.
Four Generations, Four Perspectives, One Constant: "It Never Used to Be Like This"
Even though the song isn't about my life in a literal way, the voices I used are unmistakably familiar.
My grandfather, my mother, I, and one of my sons form the arc of the story—not to describe our lives in detail, but to highlight how each era has viewed money and progress with a mix of "wtf", disbelief, and resignation.
My grandfather's voice represents that earlier generation who really watched prices shift in a way that felt explosive. His version of shock is rooted in memory—what things cost when he was young, how far a dollar stretched, how much effort it took to "get ahead."
My mother's perspective picks up the same refrain—life could feel expensive even then, long before today's costs crept in and swallowed whole paychecks. She didn't hesitate to warn me that the world was "half gone crazy," passing along equal parts caution, encouragement, and expectation.
And then there's me, passing along that same guidance to my own son. Except by the time he enters the picture, even my jaw drops—and he's there to remind me that the world has moved again, that what seems shocking to me is merely standard to him.
Smiles, Sighs, and What We Pass Along
In the end, When Crazy Was King isn't just a song about prices or inflation—it's a story about perspective, memory, and the way each generation measures the world.
It's a reminder that what feels overwhelming or absurd today has echoes in the past, and that the voices guiding us—whether from grandparents, parents, or children—carry wisdom, humor, and a touch of disbelief.
Writing it reminded me that even as the world keeps changing, some truths remain the same: we navigate life as best we can, we pass along what we've learned, and we can still look back with both a smile and a sigh at the days when "crazy" ruled.
Note: The author may receive a commission from purchases made using links found in this article. “As an Amazon Associate, Ebay (EPN), Esty (Awin), and/or Zazzle Affiliate, I (we) earn from qualifying purchases.”
I've been writing lyrics since 1968 — yes, since I was eight years old — and poetry has also always been a part of my life. Over the years, most of my writing has been inspired by real life: events in the world, moments with my family, feelings, hope, humor, and inspiration.
But every so often, I like to challenge myself. That's how Elvis Saved My Life came to be — an entirely fictional story told through lyrics.
"Elvis Saved My Life" Was My Creative Challenge
Written in the late 1990s or early 2000s (I forget the exact date), this song started as my own personal challenge: Could I tell a complete narrative using three iconic Elvis Presley songs as milestones in a couple's life?
The songs I chose — Jailhouse Rock, Love Me Tender, and In the Ghetto — weren't just randomly picked. Each one marks a pivotal moment in the couple's journey, capturing emotions, growth, and perspective in a lyrical timeline.
The idea was to let these songs narrate life's key moments and, metaphorically, show how Elvis "saved" their lives.
The Journey Through Song
Each song in the story plays a unique role:
Jailhouse Rock: Represents youthful innocence and the playful, awkward beginnings of love. It's a moment of humor and formative experience — that first awakening to relationships and desire.
Love Me Tender: Captures the deepening of love and commitment. It marks a turning point where affection grows into something lasting, tender, and life-changing.
In the Ghetto: Reflects perspective, gratitude, and understanding of life's bigger picture. It's a moment of recognition—seeing life's joys and trials and feeling thankful for what's been built.
Together, these songs become markers along a timeline, telling a story of love, growth, and the simple beauty of shared experiences.
Why This Song Matters to Me
Usually, my lyrics come from personal experience or observation, but this project was different. It pushed me to imagine a life, create characters, and weave together a story purely through words and lyrics.
It was a mental and emotional exercise—translating life into moments marked by song and finding meaning in the narrative of a couple's journey.
It reminded me that lyrics can be more than just words. They can be memory, reflection, and even a kind of salvation. That's the essence of this story: how life, love, and carefully chosen words can intersect to create something unforgettable.
A Personal Reflection
Looking back, Elvis Saved My Life isn't just a creative experiment — it's a celebration of storytelling through lyrics. It's about the moments that shape us, the songs that become the soundtrack of our lives, and the unexpected ways life nudges us toward growth, connection, and joy.
It's fun, it's heartfelt, and for me, it's a reminder that sometimes, fiction can tell truths as powerfully as reality ever could.
Note: The author may receive a commission from purchases made using links found in this article. “As an Amazon Associate, Ebay (EPN), Esty (Awin), and/or Zazzle Affiliate, I (we) earn from qualifying purchases.”
A few weeks back, I wrote an emotional article about something I didn't expect to stumble into at all—Carl Jung. More specifically, his concept of individuation.
What began as casual curiosity turned into a surprising journey of anger, tears, and reflection. That article, written on December 7th, explored how accidentally "tripping into" Jung's work cracked open feelings I didn't know were still waiting to be acknowledged.
Since writing that article, something shifted.
The intensity of those emotions softened—not because they disappeared, but because I moved forward with them rather than resisting them.
That forward movement led me to write several lyric videos, each touching on personal growth and inner awareness. The one I'm sharing today, Ghost in the Passenger Seat, comes from that next step forward.
Behind My Lyrics To "Ghost In The Passenger Seat"
I wrote these lyrics on December 19th, 2025, and I wasn't planning on writing them at all.
I've been writing since 8 years old (1968), and most of the time words just fall into my head, fully formed, and I have to get them out.
The process takes hours—writing the lyrics, creating the artwork, and putting together the lyric video. Currently, I'm doing it all myself. So it's a huge production for me; however, it's rewarding.
Once I start, I feel a strong need to finish the project entirely, sometimes writing and working for eight to ten hours straight. Thank goodness for my Cubii—my under-desk exercise machine—so I can keep moving while writing.
Even so, I'm often emotionally spent the next day because projects like this pull a lot out of me. But the fun of creating and the need to deliver the message always overrides the drain.
Exploring the Shadow Self
This song explores another well-known Jungian concept: the shadow self. The parts of us shaped by past pain, fear, shame, or survival—the parts we'd rather ignore, bury, or pretend don't exist.
Jung believed we don't heal by rejecting these parts, but by acknowledging and integrating them. The shadow doesn't go away just because we refuse to look at it. It comes along for the ride whether we like it or not.
In Ghost in the Passenger Seat, the shadow self is personified as a ghost—sometimes called the "ghost self." She sits in the passenger seat of a car, traveling everywhere the woman goes. The car becomes a metaphor for life's journey, and the passenger seat becomes the space where unhealed parts demand attention.
The lyrics tell the story of realizing that healing doesn't mean banishing the ghost—it means recognizing her, listening, and eventually allowing her to move out of the front seat, to sit quietly in the back, happy that she's been acknowledged.
I intentionally chose light, bouncy music to carry a serious theme. I like contradictions like that.
When subjects become too heavy, hope can get lost in the weight of the message.
I feel that by pairing a meaningful topic with an upbeat, almost playful tone, the song becomes more approachable—an invitation rather than a lecture. Healing doesn't always have to sound sad to be real.
Final Thoughts: Healing, Creativity, and the Journey
The shadow self is a complex and timely subject. Carl Jung's work has found renewed attention as more people search for meaning, healing, and self-understanding beyond surface-level positivity.
This song is my way of engaging with that conversation—honestly, thoughtfully, but lightly. It's a reminder that even heavy truths can be approached with creativity, metaphors, and hope.
I hope you enjoyed the lyrics—and the lyric video—as much as I enjoyed bringing this story to life.
Note: The author may receive a commission from purchases made using links found in this article. “As an Amazon Associate, Ebay (EPN), Esty (Awin), and/or Zazzle Affiliate, I (we) earn from qualifying purchases.”
It began quietly, the way honest thoughts often do. Almost a follow-up from last week's intense article about self-discovery.
Tucked under the sheets at 3 a.m. last night, phone glowing in the dark, I opened the notes app and started typing.
I wasn't planning to write anything. I just felt the words pressing in, asking to be let out before sleep could claim them. What came through felt urgent, reflective, and very real — something that needed to be written exactly as it arrived.
At first, the tone felt somber. The questions were heavy. But as the writing continued, something shifted. Without forcing it, a sense of lightness began to weave its way in. Not denial, and not false optimism — just the reminder that even intense questions can exist alongside hope.
These lyrics became Five Minutes of Peace.
Verse One: Are We Being Tested?
The first verse explores a thought many of us have had in our quieter moments — the feeling that life might be some kind of test. As if unseen forces are watching, placing bets on how much we can handle before we crack, adding weight to already full lives just to see what happens next.
It's not a comfortable idea, but it's an honest one. When challenges stack up without pause, it's natural to wonder whether endurance itself is being measured. This verse lingers with that discomfort rather than rushing past it.
Verse Two: Did I Choose This Life?
The second verse shifts perspective and asks a different question altogether. What if this life wasn't assigned to us? What if we chose it?
Here, the idea of being an angel on a grand expedition comes into play — willingly stepping into a difficult life for the sake of growth or learning. And then, midway through, I realized just how exhausting that choice feels. There's a hint of humor in the self-awareness, a moment of wondering what we were thinking, and the very human desire for an intermission.
Verse Three: Is This Karma?
The third verse turns toward karma — the belief that life may be about balancing energies and settling accounts. Are we here to clean up what came before? To answer for past actions, past choices, or even inherited weight we didn't personally create?
This verse doesn't offer judgment or certainty. It simply acknowledges the possibility and complexity of understanding why life unfolds as it does.
The Chorus: Peace for Everyone I Love
The chorus opens outward. The five minutes of peace being asked for isn't just personal relief — it's a moment that includes my children, my family, my friends, and the wider world all at once. True peace, for me, only exists when the people I love are safe, and when the world they move through feels calm as well.
It's a utopian idea, and I'm aware of that. But that's what makes it meaningful. For five minutes, darkness is defeated not because it's ignored, but because it isn't touching anyone. There's no need to send good vibes or wish things better — everything already is. For those five minutes, everything is right, everywhere, all at once.
The Ending: Letting Go of the Labels
By the end, the need for answers softens. The lyrics don't land on being a misfit, an angel, or a soul working through karma. Instead, they arrive at something simpler and more forgiving.
I'm just a girl here to learn — from the love, the chaos, the beauty, and the drama that come with being human. No cosmic labels required. No final explanations needed.
Why I Shared This
This lyric video holds contrast. It asks heavy questions without becoming heavy itself. It allows seriousness to exist alongside brightness, intensity alongside hope. That balance reflects how the lyrics came to life — in the quiet of the night, shaped by curiosity rather than certainty.
Sometimes, five minutes is all we need.
And sometimes, writing it down at 3 a.m. is enough to remind us that we're not alone in asking why life gives us so much to carry.
Note: The author may receive a commission from purchases made using links found in this article. “As an Amazon Associate, Ebay (EPN), Esty (Awin), and/or Zazzle Affiliate, I (we) earn from qualifying purchases.”
Lately, I've been tripping over Carl Jung videos—or more accurately, the algorithms on my social media seem determined to hand them to me.
At first, I would scroll past quickly, recognizing the name but not feeling any real connection to it. Then one day, something made me pause. I watched one short, then another, and before I knew it, I was engulfed in the powerful narrative-style video presentations. Snippets of his writings, reflections, and interpretations—layered with voiceovers that somehow went straight to the center of me.
It felt less like stumbling onto something new and more like something familiar tapping me softly on the shoulder. Something I was meant to hear now, at this time in my life.
Who Was Carl Jung?
I'll be honest: I had to go look up his credentials. We all know the name, but I didn't know the years he lived or the full weight of who he was.
Carl Jung (1875–1961) was a Swiss psychiatrist and the founder of analytical psychology. His work reached far beyond traditional psychology, exploring dreams, symbols, mythology, spirituality, and the unconscious.
He gave us concepts like archetypes, the shadow self, synchronicity, and one of his most profound ideas: the journey of individuation. Once I started reading more about him, everything I'd been watching began to connect in a way that felt eerily personal.
Individuation: The Message That Stopped Me Cold
Of all the Jung videos I've watched, the one that stopped me cold was about individuation.
Jung described it as the lifelong process of becoming your true self—the self you were meant to be before life, expectations, obligations, or other people guided you off course.
The video explained individuation as a kind of "going home," not to any physical place, but returning to the inner self you were originally designed to grow into. And that struck me deeply.
At 65, I can feel myself moving in that direction—not in a dramatic way, but in a quiet, profound way. I wish I could remember every word from the video, because the message landed with such force. What stays with me is the recognition that I am finally circling back to who I was meant to be all along. It's a combination of bravery, but not really bravery, and anger.
I found this eBook on Amazon about Carl Jung's "Individuation." - Note, I haven't read it; I included it for anyone interested.
The Pull Away, and the Pull Back
What unsettled me most was how clearly Jung's message mirrored my own life.
From childhood onward, it was so easy to be pulled off course—into other people's ideas of who I was, what I should do, who I should become.
I remember being seen as delicate, even though I knew I was anything but. I wasn't upset by the misunderstanding; I was puzzled by it. I knew that wasn't me, even if I didn't yet know how to show who I truly was. Flash forward to today, my best friend often reminds me how strong I am. She sees me.
And Jung's explanation—that our original direction can be interrupted or reshaped by the world—made me see how far I had drifted without even realizing it.
Yet here I am, decades later, feeling a powerful pull back toward the girl I was at five—the girl who instinctively knew who she was!
I'm Trying Not to Be Angry - This is Personal, But I Have to Say I'm Dealing With That Feeling Right Now
I'm trying not to be angry, because I'm not an angry person. I don't believe in living in an angry space.
Truly, I don't carry anger or fear around with me. I feel it when it happens, and let it go, as I will with this anger. Psalm 23 repeats in my mind constantly, and it saves me.
But these Jung videos stirred something that surprised me. Not anger toward anyone—not my parents, not the world—but something closer to grief mixed with frustration.
Anger at myself. And yet, how can I be angry at a five-year-old child who simply loved, and wanted, and felt the need to play the piano?
At five years old, the piano felt natural to me. My teacher made sure to let my mother know that I had a gift. But when we moved away to another province, my parents were focused on building a life.
When my mother said we couldn't afford a piano—and I couldn't take lessons without one—I felt THEIR stress immediately. We had previously lived with my mother's parents, who had a piano.
So even though the piano awakened my soul, I didn't insist. I didn't plead. It wasn't in my nature to burden anyone. And so the piano-playing version of me slipped quietly out of existence.
But the writing version of me never left.
From eight years old onward, the poems, lyrics, and lines that arrived in the middle of chores, or in quiet moments, just kept coming. From humor to world events to parents to made-up lyrics, it was all penned to paper.
They're collected in my book We Will Have Morning Smiles—fifty years of my world in words. And now, as I put those words to music—finally allowing them to breathe in the way I now know they were meant to—I can't help but think that if piano had stayed in my life, I might have been doing this decades sooner.
Here's how I'm dealing with lost time: I've created a Time-Traveling version of me (lol, that creative side just won't leave) - You can check out the two "Back to the Future" shorts I've created so far. They're on this playlist from YouTube:
******************
The next curveball came after high school.
In high school, I was accepted into three universities for psychology, a field I had long wanted to pursue. But again, I was talked out of it. Steered elsewhere. Redirected. It only lasted a year before life pulled me into yet another path that wasn't mine.
So yes, I do feel angry at myself for letting others steer me: friends, family, men, expectations, interpretations. I'm legitmately p*ssed.
And yet, through Jung's lens, I now understand that this reckoning is part of the return journey. Part of going home to myself.
I don't want to leave this earth, when it's finally my time, without becoming my truest, most whole self. That self is the one who writes. The one whose words are her spirit and her soul.
The one who puts those words to music, spoken voice, or anything else that lets them live. I want to leave that behind. Every last piece of who I really am.
I need to return home, to me. And most of all, forgive everything, everyone, especially myself.
If you'd like to listen to my words, put to music, here's a playlist of what I've completed so far of the hundreds of lyrics and poems I've written over nearly 57 years. Every song includes information about when the words were written and the story behind them. "Measures" is my most recent, written at 64. I'm sharing work from 1968 (I was 8 then) til today, and tomorrow's words that are yet to come.
In closing, I'm reminding myself that it is THIS life that I lived, not the one I thought I should have, that inspired these poems and lyrics. And, my children are the best reason I took this path.
Note: The author may receive a commission from purchases made using links found in this article. “As an Amazon Associate, Ebay (EPN), Esty (Awin), and/or Zazzle Affiliate, I (we) earn from qualifying purchases.”
Healthy Fitness Gift Idea: Why I Keep Recommending the Cubii Under-Desk Elliptical
I've Written About This Before…
I might sound like I'm rinsing and repeating. Still, I've written multiple articles about the Cubii Under-Desk Elliptical — my first review was in 2021, then another in 2023, and most recently in April 2025 — and I still stand by it.
With the holidays coming up, I wanted to share this as a healthy fitness gift idea that is worth every penny.
A Gift That Became a Daily Habit
My mom gave me the Cubii back in 2021, and it's been part of my daily routine ever since. I honestly can't imagine working without it. Even as I type this, my feet are pedaling away. It's small, simple, and makes moving while sitting feel entirely natural.
Quiet, Smooth, and No Maintenance
One of the things I love most is how perfectly it's built. No squeaks, no grinding, nothing to oil or fix — it's just ready to go every time. You can pedal while working, reading, or watching something without anyone noticing. It's like having a little workout tucked under your desk, quietly getting the job done.
Gentle on Joints, Big on Benefits
Standing for extended periods isn't easy for me because of arthritis, and regular exercise bikes can be uncomfortable. The Cubii is low-impact and easy on the joints, so I can pedal for hours if I want, or just take it easy on tougher days. It keeps me moving without the pain, which is priceless.
More Than Just Exercise
Since my mom passed, using it is a little reminder of her thoughtfulness. It's a practical, useful gift that also carries sentimental value. Every time I pedal, I think of her, and it adds an extra layer of meaning to something that's already incredibly helpful in my daily life.
A Gift Anyone Will Appreciate
For anyone spending hours at a desk — writers, remote workers, students, or someone who just likes sneaking in extra movement — the Cubii is a winner. It makes staying active effortless, reduces the guilt of sitting too long, and is a gift that keeps giving long after the unwrapping.
The Bottom Line
After years of daily use, I can say with complete confidence: the Cubii Under-Desk Elliptical is one of the best gifts I've ever received. It's reliable, quiet, and makes healthy movement easy.
If you're looking for a thoughtful, practical, and truly useful gift this holiday season, this is it.
And yes — I'm pedaling as I write this!
You can find the Cubii here on Amazon, where available. This is a quality product.
Note: The author may receive a commission from purchases made using links found in this article. “As an Amazon Associate, Ebay (EPN), Esty (Awin), and/or Zazzle Affiliate, I (we) earn from qualifying purchases.”
American Thanksgiving is coming up, and I thought it would be fun to share a little mental break for anyone who’s knee-deep in planning, cooking, hosting, or just trying to keep up with the holiday buzz.
Sometimes, between the grocery runs and the to-do lists, it’s nice to pause and do something entirely unrelated to casseroles and centerpieces.
So this week, I’m offering a simple, festive word scramble. Nothing fancy—just a lighthearted way to shift your mind into a different gear and enjoy a few quiet minutes.
I’ve always liked word scrambles because they’re a nice change from the usual word searches and crosswords. There’s no complicated “find this in a grid” or “solve this clever clue” required—just a handful of jumbled letters waiting to be untangled.
It feels calming, almost like giving your brain a gentle stretch without any pressure. So whether you’re taking a quick break from holiday prep or simply looking for a cozy little activity to sip your coffee with, this word scramble fits the mood. It’s festive, low-key, and a fun way to celebrate the season in a small but satisfying way.
Can You Unscramble These Words Relating To Thanksgiving?
If you’re in the mood to give your brain a fun little workout, head on down and tackle this jumble of mixed-up letters. See how many of these Thanksgiving-related words you can sort out without sneaking a look at the answers (I know — it’s tempting).
Whether you’re curled up with a warm drink, unwinding after a busy day, or just wanting a quick dose of distraction, this word scramble is a simple way to brighten your mood.
🦃Solve These Scrambled Words 🍂
1. 🦃 RADGUIETT ____________
2. 🌾 HARVTSE ____________
3. 🎃 UNKPIPM ____________
4. 🍽 ESTAF ____________
5. 🦃 ERUYTK ____________
6. 🍞 ACNDBEORR ____________
7. 🍒 NRERCYBRA ____________
8. 🥣 FTFGSIUN ____________
9. 🍁 MUUANT ____________
10. 👨👩👧👦 LFYIAM ____________
11. 🥧 HGTGNRAEI ____________
12. ⛪ RLIMIPG ____________
13. 🎉 AEDPRA ____________
14. 🙏 BIELGSNSS ____________
15. 🌽 AORCCIUNPO ____________
16. 🎈 CTLEEBARE ____________
17. 📜 DTNAIOTIR ____________
18. 🍗 SEEOVFTLR ____________
19. 🥔 DMSHEA ____________
20. 🍏 DHARORC ____________
(Scroll down for the answers at the bottom of this page)
It’s filled with 500 holiday-themed words to unscramble, and the pages are large and easy to read. Each page has a little festive artwork, and every page features ten words centered around a new Christmas theme — plus the answers are included so you can check your work.
I created it as a cheerful, relaxing way to give your brain a little holiday workout. It’s perfect for teens or adults and makes a sweet stocking stuffer, a small party gift, or a thoughtful treat for anyone who loves a little festive fun.
How did you do? Were you able to solve a few of them?
🦃🦃🦃🦃🦃🦃
Here are the Answers For The Thanksgiving Word Scramble - (They'll drop down on this page when you click)
Click Here For The Answers
1. RADGUIETT → GRATITUDE
2. HARVTSE → HARVEST
3. UNKPIPM → PUMPKIN
4. ESTAF → FEAST
5. ERUYTK → TURKEY
6. ACNDBEORR → CORNBREAD
7. NRERCYBRA → CRANBERRY
8. FTFGSIUN → STUFFING
9. MUUANT → AUTUMN
10. LFYIAM → FAMILY
11. HGTGNRAEI → GATHERING
12. RLIMIPG → PILGRIM
13. AEDPRA → PARADE
14. BIELGSNSS → BLESSINGS
15. AORCCIUNPO → CORNUCOPIA
16. CTLEEBARE → CELEBRATE
17. DTNAIOTIR → TRADITION
18. SEEOVFTLR → LEFTOVERS
19. DMSHEA → MASHED
20. DHARORC → ORCHARD
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If you're finding yourself in need of redoing your WordPress website with a new theme, this article may help you.
I recently had to redesign my website, Drageda.com, and honestly—it wasn't exactly on my "fun to-do" list.
The theme I was using could no longer be updated to the latest PHP version, which meant my site was at a standstill.
Additionally, I recently acquired the rights to create commercial music with my own lyrics, and all of that work—copies of my songs are available on my YouTube channel, @dragedapoemslyrics—but I also needed a reliable website home.
I knew I couldn't continue building and sharing potentially hundreds of songs on a site that couldn't upgrade properly. So I finally faced the inevitable: the redesign had to happen.
How I Work With AI: Talking, Clarifying, and Back-and-Forth
Here's how I work with AI: I talk to my computer as if I'm talking to a person. It's a full-on, back-and-forth conversation—I never just assume AI is giving me the correct answers, because sometimes I haven't asked the question the best way.
I explain my problem, AI interprets it, I clarify, and we go back and forth until we figure out the solution. My husband or kids will walk in while I'm mid-issue, and I'll have to put my hand up because yes—I'm actually talking to the computer, asking it questions the way I might in a business meeting.
It floors them every time, but it works. This conversational approach is far faster than typing out long instructions.
How Using AI to Revamp My Site Saved Me Money
I'm not one to spend money on building websites—I've created them myself for years, learning only what I needed to know as I went along.
I use WordPress, but I don't try to master every single aspect; I just pick up the skills as I go. Often, I learn something, use it, and then let it go—so when I need to make changes later, I have to refresh my memory.
This is where AI became incredibly handy. By guiding me through everything—from selecting a theme to implementing tweaks—I didn't have to hire anyone.
That saved a lot of money. Of course, it still cost me time: I spent about three solid days on this project. Picking a theme alone took hours because, well, I was being fussy. Once the theme was installed, I had to make various tweaks and adjustments.
I could do it all behind the scenes on a staging site, without affecting my existing website. That meant no pressure to get everything perfect on the first try.
So, yes, it cost me my time and gave me sore eyes—but it saved me a significant amount of money while giving me complete control over how my site looks and functions.
Step 1: Staging the Site
My hosting provider is SiteGround, and I'm very pleased with them. AI first informed me that I could create a staging site with SiteGround—a temporary clone of my website—so I could work on the redesign behind the scenes without affecting the live site. Once everything was perfect, AI guided me on how to push the staging site live.
AI walked me through every step of creating this staging site, including where to navigate within SiteGround and the specific steps to follow.
Step 2: Picking and Adjusting a New Theme
I chose a new theme for Drageda.com. It has some limitations—for example, the colors in the dropdown menus that I wanted to tweak. Instead of guessing or experimenting endlessly, I explained the problem to AI:
"I want the dropdown to be a different color, and the hover effect to be more readable. How do I do that?"
AI provided me with the CSS code I needed and instructed me exactly where to insert it in the design settings.
I asked follow-up questions, such as "Will this conflict with anything else?" and received clear, reassuring guidance. I double-checked, and everything worked beautifully.
Step 3: Quick Problem-Solving Along the Way
Whenever I ran into a hiccup—technical or design-related—I asked AI out loud. It provided step-by-step solutions that were easy to implement. No digging through forums, no guessing—just straightforward answers.
Tips for Using AI For Your Technical Issues
One thing I've learned is that you can't just assume AI automatically understands your question or knows the correct answer based on how you asked it.
Sometimes I think I'm explaining a problem clearly, but AI misinterprets it—not because it's not smart, but because I haven't asked the question in the right way. That's why the back-and-forth is so essential. I'll explain, clarify, and even backtrack steps until AI fully understands the issue.
For example, when I needed additional CSS code for other tweaks, the AI guided me to inspect elements on my site, copy the correct code, and bring it back to our AI conversation. It was then able to provide me with the correct code.
For anyone doing projects like this on their own: be very specific, and don't trust that AI understands precisely what you mean. You are only getting back what you specifically ask.
Always think it through, double-check, and ask more questions if needed.
For CSS, AI is particularly convenient when your theme doesn't offer options for specific changes. But I always follow up with questions like: Is there any potential conflict? Can I leave the existing code? Should I delete old CSS code if it's no longer needed? CSS is relatively safe according to AI, but I double-check anyway. It's simple, but these steps save a lot of headaches.
The future is here, yikes - very handy, but still freaky.
You can check out the new look of my site here, at Drageda.com!
Note: The author may receive a commission from purchases made using links found in this article. “As an Amazon Associate, Ebay (EPN), Esty (Awin), and/or Zazzle Affiliate, I (we) earn from qualifying purchases.”
I often wonder what my mom would have told her 60-year-old self when she was 80.
Mom passed at 82, and although we had many conversations, I don't remember us having this one - but I'd venture that we did, and I've simply forgotten.
Now that I'm in my mid-60s, I often think about that. What would I tell my 40 or 30-year-old self?
Because even at this age, I certainly haven't learned nearly all there is to know. I imagine my mom at 80 had realizations and wisdom that didn't resonate when she was my current age.
It makes me think that no matter how old we are — 20, 40, 60, or 80 — we're always able to look back and see what we didn't know then versus what we know now.
So, this piece is about being in my mid-60s and reflecting on how every decade carries its own lessons. I'm sure if I'm blessed enough to reach my mid-80s, I'll see life through an even more seasoned lens — maybe not entirely different, but definitely deeper. That's how I tend to live: tracking the markers, assessing the growth, and asking myself what stuck, what didn't, and what I still need to learn.
What I'd Tell My 30-Year-Old Self - I'd Have to Laugh Mid-Conversation!
If I could go back and whisper something to my 30-year-old self, I think the first thing I'd do is laugh — because she would've never believed we'd make it through half of what was coming!
There was a time when I used to say, "If I could go back, I'd change schools, or take a different major, or move to a different city." And while that sounds practical, it's also impossible — because those kinds of changes would have altered everything. I wouldn't have the kids I have, the family I have, or even the same path that shaped me.
So I've grown past that kind of thinking. That was the younger me talking. The version that thought life was supposed to go according to plan.
Today, I understand that my life unfolded the way it was meant to — not easily, but meaningfully. I accept that I chose this life for a reason. My spirit wanted growth, and, well, it got it!
Sometimes I joke that before we’re born — if that’s how it works — maybe we’re up there somewhere making our life plans like a bunch of overachievers. And there I was, hand in the air, saying, “Give me all the lessons. I can handle it. I’ll do a thousand lifetimes in one. Let’s go!” Honestly, that's my character, so I can legitimately believe I would do this!
And then somewhere around my 50s, I did yell back, "Okay, that's enough now — who approved this plan?!" Because honestly, I think I signed up for a little too much growth.
Still, I can laugh about it now, and that's a kind of wisdom all on its own. Laugh, cry, feel it all.
What 65-Year-Old Me Would Tell Me 30-Year-Old Me:
If I could actually sit across from my 30-year-old self, I'd say this:
“It feels insurmountable right now, but you’ve chosen this path for a reason. Keep moving forward. Speak up more often. You’re going to discover strength beyond your wildest imagination. You think you know what strength is now — just wait. You’re about to master it, my Queen. Hold onto love, and you'll survive it all.”
I wrote the song lyrics in the above video in my late 30s, possibly early 40s. I was struggling then, deeply. And that struggle, as hard as it was, gave me this creative voice that I've used before and ever since.
Most of those poems mirror the ups and downs, the lessons, and the love I've found along the way. I originally published that book for my children, so when my time here is done, they'll still have a piece of me to hold onto, if they need it.
What Would You Tell Your 30-Year-Old Self?
Now, what about you? Have you ever asked yourself that question?
Would you tell your 30-year-old self to make this turn instead of that turn? To choose a different path, or avoid certain detours? Or would you simply congratulate yourself for surviving it all — for learning what you needed to learn, even if it came the hard way?
We all have our own version of that conversation. Maybe that's what life really is — a series of quiet talks between who we were and who we're becoming.
Closing Thought
So, here's to every version of us: the 30-year-old who was trying to figure it out, the 60-year-old who's still learning, and the future self who will someday look back and smile, realizing that somehow, through it all, we did okay.
Note: The author may receive a commission from purchases made using links found in this article. “As an Amazon Associate, Ebay (EPN), Esty (Awin), and/or Zazzle Affiliate, I (we) earn from qualifying purchases.”
We all have those stretches when we're not posting, not sharing, not updating—and I've realized that the silence can say as much as the noise.
Sometimes it means someone is going through something they can't quite name yet. Other times, it simply means they're living quietly, peacefully, in their own space.
For me, that quietness feels right most of the time. I primarily use social media to share the things I create—songs, poems, articles, riddles, and the work of other writers I admire.
Occasionally, I'll post family pictures or something lighthearted, but I keep my personal life private. I don't need to put everything out there. I know many of you share those feelings as well.
There's a lot of emotion attached to what we see online—the perfect families, the perfect homes, the picture-perfect moments that can make life look effortless.
I don't judge posting, because I post too; in fact, many people find joy and pride in sharing what they love. It's also nice to stay up-to-date.
However, I sometimes worry that I might make someone feel left out, or, on the other hand, that they might be tired of me. So, I keep things simple. Because everyone has a battle, and not knowing what their struggle may be, I err on the side of caution.
Part of it is the world my older generation grew up in.
Our generation went from dial phones to having the world in our pockets.
I still remember when a 25-foot phone cord was considered high-tech—it gave you enough freedom to walk into another room and talk privately! What a handy item that was. Lol.
That was our "social media." Now, everyone's connected all the time. But I do admire how naturally younger people navigate that.
It's their world. But for me, the quieter lane feels more comfortable.
When Silence Speaks
I've learned that sometimes what we don't post reveals just as much as what we do.
The silence might mean someone is overwhelmed, reflecting, busy, resting, or simply choosing peace over noise.
There's a kind of wisdom that comes with knowing not everything needs to be shared, explained, or responded to. Some moments are meant to be felt, not displayed.
Choosing not to post isn't the same as withdrawing—it's simply deciding that certain experiences belong to the heart more than the timeline.
There's a quiet beauty in holding certain aspects of our lives close, letting them unfold without announcement or commentary.
When Grief Has No Words
When my dad passed away, I couldn't bring myself to post about it—not for a while. It wasn't that I didn't want support; I just couldn't find the words. The shift inside me was too big, too raw. It felt like an internal earthquake—like a part of me had been quietly rearranged.
Eventually, I was able to talk about it, write about it, and even share it—but not at first. That silence wasn't avoidance; it was reverence. It was me trying to make sense of a life that suddenly felt different.
And that experience taught me something about others as well. We don't always know what's behind someone's stillness online or in life.
Sometimes, the quiet is protecting something sacred. Sometimes, it's where healing lives.
The Gift of Quiet
These days, I've come to appreciate quiet as a kind of luxury. Even when the TV's loud or music's playing, there's still a peaceful undercurrent I can feel—a sort of calm I didn't always recognize when I was younger.
I see quiet as space. Space to breathe, think, and just be.
Silence doesn't mean absence. It's not a lack of connection or care. Its presence, in another form. It's reflection. It's peace.
So, when I scroll past the stream of updates and realize I haven't posted in a while, I don't feel behind. I feel grounded, and I enjoy catching up with family and friends who are sharing.
The moments I don't post about are often the ones that shape me the most—quietly, deeply, and without an audience.
And maybe that's what makes them so meaningful.
They remind me that not every beautiful thing has to be witnessed to be real.
Some of life's most authentic moments happen in the spaces no one sees—where there are no captions, no commentary, and no need to explain.
Note: The author may receive a commission from purchases made using links found in this article. “As an Amazon Associate, Ebay (EPN), Esty (Awin), and/or Zazzle Affiliate, I (we) earn from qualifying purchases.”
