Today was one of those days where life and business tangled together in ways only a small business owner will fully get.
It started quietly enough… well, as quiet as it gets in my house. I noticed a subtle shift in tone from Jay this morning. You know that thing where someone’s looping on ideas, stuck in their head, talking about the same topic again and again? That was him, doorway half-blocked, garden plans swirling for half an hour instead of heading to the shower. It’s the kind of moment most people would just shrug off — but for me, it’s a marker. I document these little things because they’re rarely “just” little things. They’re often the start of a pattern.
And I was right — it built. Later there was the steroids conversation, which somehow got twisted into an accusation that I must be oogling people on steroids. I stayed calm, even when I felt the tears prick. In the past, that could’ve been a shouting match. Now? I’m in what I call my gangster era — cool under pressure, refusing to hand over my regulation to someone else’s bait.
That confidence is new, but hard-won. I’m dressing how I want, walking taller, not automatically deferring in conversations. I’m taking the kids out separately, building my own bonds with them, growing into a version of me that’s not shrinking to keep the peace. And yes, that shift rattles some people — but their reaction is theirs to own.
In the middle of all that, the business side of my day didn’t slow down. Denise’s monthly order was packed in an attic that felt like it was trying to outdo the Sahara. I could’ve put it off. I didn’t. Because GGT isn’t just a business — it’s proof that I can keep growing something beautiful even when the rest of life tries to throw me off balance.
While I worked, I thought about the details — the apple sticks and leaves in our mixes, hornbeam branches for healthy teeth, the little touches that make our forage blends more than “just plants in a bag.” They’re intentional. Thought-through. Documented. Exactly like the way I’ve learned to handle my days.
Because here’s the truth: whether it’s blending the perfect forage or navigating a tricky conversation, it’s the small, consistent choices that make the big difference. The details matter.
So I’ll keep logging them.
I’ll keep showing up in the attic on the hottest days.
I’ll keep dressing how I want, walking with my head up, and running my business with the same quiet confidence I’m building in the rest of my life.
And if you’ve been thinking about trying a mix for your pets — maybe one with those apple sticks and leaves for enrichment and nutrition — have a browse. Every bag that goes out isn’t just healthy forage… it’s a little piece of resilience, packaged up and ready to be enjoyed.
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