Planning Without the Panic

I sat down last week to plan the month ahead, calendar app open, herbal tea in hand, feeling almost productive. Then I actually looked at the upcoming schedule: two back-to-back travel weekends, a harvest service sandwiched between them, two large community events to plan, and of course, a handful of appointments that always seem to multiply the moment I schedule just one.

My first honest thought wasn't "Lord, what an opportunity." It was "Lord, I am going to be wrecked. This month is going to kill me!"

Here's the thing: That thought wasn't wrong. I know my body. I know that travel weekends cost me days of recovery that healthy people don't have to budget for. I know my pain will spike, my energy will crater, and I'll probably need a nap disguised as "quiet time" more than once. All of that is true. I know it from experience.

Dana Rongione 31/08/2026 Dana Rongione 31/08/2026

Who Knew Walking Would Require a Manual?

I once thought myself quite adept at walking. Two feet, alternating steps, arms swinging for balance. It seemed the perfect exercise, a system I had mastered. Then age crept in, my chronic illness worsened, and I quickly learned that walking is far more complicated than my toddler self ever imagined. Wah!

For instance, not long ago, I was strolling along, admiring the trees like a nature documentary narrator. Sadly, I failed to notice the road ahead was no longer flat. My ankle twisted one way, my body the other. Down I went, while my dog looked on with what I can only describe as mild disappointment and perhaps a hint of amusement in her eyes.

Another time, I got so distracted watching our dog, Tess, chase a squirrel that I walked straight into a low-hanging branch, nearly knocking myself senseless.

And sometimes, there's simply no excuse.

Dana Rongione 19/08/2026 Dana Rongione 19/08/2026

Still Standing: What Wildfires Taught Me About Surviving Hard Seasons

If you've been watching the news, you've probably heard that Wales has had its driest, hottest summer since records began. July was the driest in nearly 200 years, and by mid-August, some parts of the country had received a meager six percent of the expected rainfall. Six percent! My garden looks less like a garden and more like a crunchy doormat. Even Henrhyd Falls (known as Batman Falls from The Dark Knight Rises) has run completely dry for the first time in recorded history. When Batman's waterfall stops falling, you know things are serious.

Naturally, all this heat and drought have turned Wales into kindling. Firefighters across England and Wales have battled nearly a thousand wildfires already this year, with fires occurring frequently through the first weeks of August alone. The large, dramatic blazes have mostly hit the south, but even here in mid-Wales, smaller fires have popped up along our hillsides.

Dana Rongione 07/08/2026 Dana Rongione 07/08/2026

Are You Just Watching Jesus, or Are You Reaching for Him?

Picture the scene: a dusty road just outside Capernaum, packed shoulder-to-shoulder with people who had dropped everything because word got out that Jesus was in town. A synagogue ruler named Jairus had thrown himself at Jesus' feet, begging Him to come heal his dying daughter, and now the whole neighborhood was tagging along to see what would happen. Front-row seats to a miracle? Nobody was missing that.

So, there they were, pressing in from every side, so tightly packed that Jesus could barely move. And in the middle of all that shoving and jostling was a woman nobody wanted to stand next to. She'd been bleeding for twelve straight years. Twelve! She'd spent every coin she had on doctors who only made things worse, and under Jewish law, her condition made her ceremonially unclean, which meant she wasn't even supposed to be in that crowd, touching people, brushing up against their clothes.

Dana Rongione 27/07/2026 Dana Rongione 27/07/2026

Why the Small Stuff Keeps Stealing Your Joy (and How to Stop It)

Y'all, I have officially entered my Egyptian plague era. Between the summer heat and the freshly fertilized field behind us, our house has become Fly Central. I'm not talking about the occasional buzzer that sneaks in when someone leaves the door open too long. I'm talking about dozens, maybe more. Scores of flies, staging what I can only assume is an aerial invasion with zero regard for personal space or human dignity.

Last night, as I lay in bed trying to fall asleep, I stared up at my white ceiling, and it looked exactly like the night sky in reverse, with black dots scattered across a pale backdrop instead of white stars twinkling in the dark. Except stars are peaceful. These little dots buzzed, dive-bombed my face, and had the nerve to land on my poor dog Tess while she was just trying to nap. There is no escaping them. None. I've swatted, sprayed, and vacuumed, and still they persist, multiplying like there's no tomorrow.

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Planning Without the Panic

Who Knew Walking Would Require a Manual?

Still Standing: What Wildfires Taught Me About Surviving Hard Seasons

Are You Just Watching Jesus, or Are You Reaching for Him?

Why the Small Stuff Keeps Stealing Your Joy (and How to Stop It)

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Dana Rongione