Leave it to my wife to give me a suggestion I needed this Tuesday morning. I am too prone to jabbering to believe in writer’s block, but being in a weather-related funk doesn’t lead to a wellspring of ideas, either. Spring can be a heartbreaker for those of us more itching to hike to one of the Cascade Lakes for a dip. When snow is falling in April, activities of that sort seem heartbreakingly far off.

But it wasn’t just the snowy skies that had me under a dark cloud. I’ve also been in the throes of a post-spring break malaise since two of my three daughters returned to school after a spring break they partially spent at home. Even my normally buoying career feels weighed down by new workflows and a new CMS, or computer management system as I learned when I Googled the acronym everyone was using. I do a lot of Googling of acronyms these days.

And all of these things — stress, icky weather, acronym soup — conspire to make your friendly neighborhood Dropping In columnist cranky, which leads to thoughts of cannabis. I gave up that shortcut to feeling good over a year ago, as constant readers of this column may recall, but unfortunately, it remains a pesky presence in a corner of my consciousness, waving hi to me and waiting for me wander over.

So when Catherine suggested I lean the opposite way and think about gratitude, it was, as always, a wake-up slap across the face, instantly reminding me what an ungrateful slob I can be.

Because there is a lot to feel grateful for, isn’t there? And wouldn’t you know it, even as I tried to reject the idea that I should be feeling gratitude, things I felt grateful for kept percolating into consciousness. Here are a few:

As things have worked out, all three of our daughters are set to graduate from their respective colleges in June. I am so proud of them. I’m also proud of my wife and I. We’ve always been thrifty, but for several years now, we have cut back our spending, taken staycations and eaten humble meals at home. I’m sure friends and acquaintances are tired of hearing me say the words — but not as tired as I am of saying them — “We’re supporting three kids in college.” And I know doing that makes us fools in some people’s eyes in these anti-intellectual days, but our parents did the same for us, so there was never any question of whether we would support their continuing education.

• The darling buds of April. I may have jumped the gun putting our wicker patio furniture out last week, but our backyard is making that slow transformation to the grandeur of green to come. Even hidden behind clouds, the sun is up there with a stronger presence than we get in winter. The grass needs mowing in spots, the forsythia is full of yellow flowers, those weird caterpillar-like things are falling from our aspens and the lilac is pushing out all kinds of new growth.

• Leaves. Speaking of buds: Leaves is a well-named subreddit for people who are on a journey to quit cannabis. I discovered it a few weeks back, and I’m glad I did. Some people posting there are years in, some a single day. Advice and empathy are in plentiful supply. It is – for me, who’s always gone it alone when quitting bad habits – just reading the occasional post is a surprisingly effective deterrent. Last year was not the first time I’d attempted to quit, and reading about other people’s struggles, successes, hiccups and relapses is like a refresh button on my own reasons for wanting to stay the sober path. And honestly, it’s heartening to find other people who, just like me, roll their eyes at the notion that weed is non-addictive, in case you’re thinking of messaging me about such a notion.

• Running. Truth be told, I do more walking than running when I go on a run these days. And let’s call it by it’s unfashionable, truer name: jogging. But lately those old running/jogging shoes sitting by the front door have been there for me like a good friend. Years ago, a colleague back in Florida named Joe was waxing rhapsodic about the sit-on-top kayak he was going to buy to get in shape when Anthony, an advertising guy with a gift for words, piped up skeptically about how Joe didn’t need any expensive gear: “Just throw open the front door and go for a run!” Sage advice I still heed now and then.

• Speaking of old friends. My longtime colleague and skateboarding pal Andy Tullis has been after me for literally years to get back on the snowboard gathering dust in my garage. “It’s dumping,” he said when he called me Tuesday, and he started talking about how I should write a piece about getting back on my board after a decade away. I snowboarded for about 15 years, the trips up the hill winnowing down to a complete stop maybe 9 years ago after a bluebird weekend day where my friend and I got what at that moment was the very last parking place at the West Lodge. I was done with that noise, although even I’m surprised by the fact I’ve not gone back up at all. Tuesday, Andy could sense my lack of enthusiasm. I told him, “Sorry, I’m in a funk,” and he said how maybe going snowboarding would be the thing that helps, that sometimes you do something and it just leads you from one place to another. An understanding friend trying to motivate me to do something helps.

That’s just a few of the sunnier thoughts that occurred to me after my wife’s challenge this morning. Sometimes trying is the best thing you can do.

At the moment, the sun is trying to emerge. Whether it does or not, I’m going to enjoy watching the snow melt.