In Which I Resolve to Not Make Resolutions … But Make Resolutions

Now, generally, my reaction to New Year can be summed up thusly:

Courtesy of Natalie Dee

Courtesy of Natalie Dee

(And, yes, I’m British – I get to say things like “thusly” without it sounding odd.)

Last night’s New Year’s Eve celebrations in our household consisted of eating food whilst sat watching World War Z (in this instance it was some kind of Tuscan chickpea dip type thing and some grilled buttermilk chicken – there was also Viennetta but, alas, it didn’t make it out of the freezer). Then 20 minutes or Red Riding Hood before changing to something else god-awful. I was all set to go to bed at this point, but ended up watching an hour of some “let’s look back at 2013″ programme. Finally it came to 23:55 and had the TV on mute (no, Gary Barlow, you are not part of my festivities) before watching the fireworks (unmuted) and going to bed. Half an hour of reading M R James and I was ready for sleeps. Happy New Year. Woot. And all that.

As for resolutions, I’m not that big on those either. If I can’t motivate myself to go to the gym or eat healthily at any other point in the year, why would January 01 be any different? And it has proved to be ever thus (see?). Looking back over past journals (yes, I used to journal actively throughout my late teens and early twenties – at some point they’ll make hilarious reading – possibly at my funeral) nothing ever really changed: get fit, get a ‘proper’ job, get a boyfriend … Occasionally some new ones would pop up: learn to drive, get something published, that kind of thing.

Some of them happened. Not necessarily in the year in which they were written down, but you can’t have everything. It doesn’t look like my 32” waist is going to be resurfacing any time soon, for example. But no matter what I resolve or don’t resolve to happen a few inalienable facts remain. The first being that I do have a congenital heart defect called Tetralogy of Fallot (or TOF if you want to get abbreviated).

Thank you, Google suggestions.

Thank you, Google suggestions.

Feel free to Googleor Wikipedia – it yourself (and Google may or may not suggest other fascinating things like tetralysal or tetrahedrons for you, too), but the point I’m getting to is that I have a heart … issue so possibly have a greater reason to keep my body from expanding ever outwards. This is not a new realisation of mine. It is just one that I consistently fail to put into practice on a daily basis. Growing up I was a member of my then-local swimming club – and enjoyed it right up until the point that I had to make an effort and so stopped.

I guess I didn’t do too badly out of it …

… and so the photos end in 2006. Well, the ones that I’m currently happy to share anyway. Ergo wanting to get back to some semblance of slimness. Not easy when you also have a foodie type blog and love cheese as much as I do …

So the old “lose weight/get fit/be healthy” chestnut is right up there on the list of resolutions (not that I’m making any, you understand). As is “get a job”. Not a good job. Not the job-to-end-all-jobs. Just a job-to-pay-my-rent.

Then there are things that I’d like to do – but are really dependent on the goal I sort of just snuck in there (I’ll give you a clue – get a job).

  • Travel the world (or at least some of it)
  • Meet my family/friends in America/Canada
  • Buy some (anatomically correct) dinosaur cufflinks
  • Embark on some kind of ‘adult education’ course – probably though the Open University
  • Start writing up my family history research
  • Get a One-Name study underway
  • Read more books by more authors

And … I think that’s about it.

Well … there’s another one.

Apart from cooking, genealogy, gardening and photography I have another …. interest (I’m loath to call it a ‘hobby’), which is writing fiction. (I’ve tried poetry and although I enjoyed the experience, its not one that comes as naturally to me as prose writing.) This is a tricky one for me to talk about. Not that I keep it a secret – far from it – but it is something that used to come very easily to me, but has become more fragmentary and elusive as I have got older. I have ideas and muses and inspirations but … the execution leaves me underwhelmed, apprehensive, procrastinating.

Which leads me to the “other one”. I don’t necessarily want to finish anything, I’d just like to find my way back to that creative part of myself and make peace with whatever it is in there to enable me to face that blank page again.

That’s what I’d like for 2014.

Not much to ask, is it?

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