When I was a kid, my dad was incredibly cautious of all things his children deemed to be fun and adventurous. Then again, his job put him in a position to see the after effects that were suffered by many of those who leaped before they looked. (Did you know it isn't smart to leap off the top of a ditch in the desert until you are sure there isn't a cactus where your posterior is likely to fall? That's another story.)
As a result, I have spent a lot of time looking, evaluating, contemplating, and letting a lot of experiences just pass me by.
I have tended to wade into the pool to make sure I can cope with the temperature instead of doing a cannon ball and dealing with the shock. (So in the desert in August, the water isn't that cold, but you get my meaning.)
Anyway as I digress, for some reason, the idea of the 29 days of giving has more than caught hold of me. Blowing my own horn (yes, I played trumpet as a girl so I know how to blow a real horn, not that it makes a nice noise now), I have decided to make the leap and see if I can actually do 29 days of something and be consistent about it.
My first gift (and there may be more than one today) was to joyfully give the dog his peanut butter, animal crackers, and meds. He is always excited by the ritual. He associates the experience with tasting good and feeling better. I associate it with a pre-dawn activity and getting my fingers nipped.
After his meds, we played with his musty old bear, his favorite, until he realized how boring I am.
I only leaped into the shallow end, but the day is young.