Well, guys, last week’s wish came true. Under our tree, along with the usual small mountain of gifts for my wonderful, brilliant, beautiful daughter, who deserved every one of them and the whole world besides, was a little heap of books with my name on them. My to-read shelves are now burgeoning again, and I haven’t even started on books for review for 2016. If I made resolutions, which I don’t any more, not really – been there, done that, felt the February guilt – it wouldn’t involve reading more, because who needs resolutions about that?
I suppose I ought to think about the usual ones: losing weight, being better about keeping in touch with distant friends, losing weight, doing something positive about at least one of the unpublished novels in my metaphorical attic, losing weight, keeping the exercise regime going. Oh, and losing weight... But I think about them every year, and either the February guilt sets in or they become absorbed into my routine. I did join a gym one year, and was still an active member seven years later, but active is a relative term, and when the management changed so did the whole atmosphere of the place, so I quit. Never did get the hang of enjoying it, so how it lasted seven years is a total mystery.
I’m wittering on a bit, aren’t I? Sorry about that. Probably because aside from that little heap of books, a handful of other gifts from thoughtful people who know me too well for comfort, and the discovery of a method of cooking a turkey which actually works, nothing has really happened since I last posted. It happens, or rather doesn’t, at this time of year. Watched some TV, ate far too much chocolate, drank a little more alcohol than usual, read a book or two... It was pleasant, relaxing, convivial, but hardly headline news.
So maybe my resolution should be to make 2016 as interesting as possible, though preferably not in the Chinese proverb sense. There’s been far too much of that in 2015, including a pretty rough Christmas season for a lot of people a hundred or so miles north of here, whose homes and lives have been devastated by floods ever since December 26th. Are you listening, global warming deniers?
OK, if not a resolution, then a wish: for me, 2015 has been quite a good year, so here’s hoping 2016 is better in every way, especially for anyone whose 2015 has been less than good.
My old year began its departure on a good laugh this morning, but I won’t bore anyone with the details because you had to be there. Suffice to say it involved two cars, a box of food shopping and a feisty elderly lady I’m proud to call a friend.
And if a year ends on a laugh, doesn’t that augur well for the beginning of the next one? I hope so.