The first pancake is never pretty. But it still tastes pretty good.

A misshapen oval that’s a bit burnt and slightly doughy in the thickest part, but you gotta start somewhere. The first pancake is a sign of hope. It means there’s more to come and there’s plenty of opportunity to get better. Just keep flipping. Throw on some brown sugar and lemon juice and you’re away.

The older you get, the less you try new things. Funny how you figure out what you like and whether you can be bothered learning something new. You weigh up the risk of failure or embarrassment against pleasure and success.

A year ago, I did something for the first time. I wrote a column for InQld.com.au.

And I’m chuffed that I’ve managed to keep writing for the past twelve months. I wasn’t sure I could. I was scared.

There’s a lot of yelling at the media. People can be mean. Often I don’t feel smart enough or I just look around the world and feel a bit sad.

But I made it to my one year anniversary so hoo-bloody-ray! I hope you’ll indulge me please, as I look back on what I wrote because it’s now a little time capsule for my brain and hopefully yours. Plus I need to update a few things…

I first wrote about words that I say wrong on the radio and I’ve now got some new ones to add – most recently diaspora. I jotted down life lessons I learned in netball and now they’re angling for a spot in the 2032 Olympic Games. They get my vote.

There have been births, deaths and marriages in the past year that I’ve shared with you. Ooh and there’s another bub on the way (not mine) that I hope I can share in the future. It’s a secret right now.

I wrote a letter to Santa asking for a vaccine. He delivered. I worried about America and now I fear for Afghanistan, but there are far better minds writing columns about that country.

I tried to make sense of the numbers handed out by Treasurers and wondered why journalists’ questions aren’t audible during daily press conferences. Still no progress there.

Domestic violence, aged care and misogyny remain in dire need of solutions. So let’s hope everyone keeps writing about them.

I wrote a handy list of Queensland destinations to visit while we’re locked in but not locked down. Might be due for a reprint? Be warned, most of those places are booked out now. COVID-19 was a constant theme but I did my best to talk about the other stuff of life.

Book week, teachers, dogs and the dump all got a shout-out while aliens, toilets and queues had me scratching my head. I tried to keep calm, searched for my mojo and and championed the schnitzel.

You came with me to Japan, the pub, the beach, junior soccer games and Ireland. Even a few celebrity tales made the mix courtesy of the Bee Gees, Tony Jones and Nick Earls.

Many times tapping out this column I cried. I try to write meaningful words. I also say them out loud as I’m writing. Can’t shake the radio habit.

Sometimes I get a surprise note from someone who’s read my words and it’s a thrill to think that someone took the time read and then write. It’s made me send more messages to people when I’ve read something that resonates. Even for the most seasoned and cynical writers, I don’t imagine that feeling ever gets old.

Sometimes you don’t like new things at first. I remember not liking beer and blue cheese. Thank goodness I persisted. I can’t remember the first time I did so many things that I now love, so I want to mark my mini literary milestone.

Maybe it’s because the world has gone a bit bonkers and life feels all the more precious and at times precarious but I’ve decided I’m going to keep trying new things.

Thank you for reading my new thing this past year.