Tag Archives: resolutions

Another blessing

Not mine this time but in an email from my godmother, discussing things we remember but don’t see much of these days:

Of course there are matters on the credit size of change. Recently I had a long, angry sore along the side of one foot. After a month I was having tentative thoughts of visiting the doctor, when I suddenly realized that it was the first chilblain I’d seen for half a century! Ye gods, and we used to reckon on having chilblains for not less than five months each year!

Counting blessings

Well, I’ve completely blown my resolution to count my blessings instead of whining, haven’t I?

Good things today:

  • Spent the evening entering the MP3 age, and subscribing to podcasts
  • Productive day at work
  • Prolly having lunch with a girlfriend on Sunday – lots of girlie goss on the cards
  • Had curly-fries for lunch today. (BAD Aphra. Won’t ever be slimline Aphra.)
  • Book arrived from Amazon reseller (appears to be stolen from a University Library, but we won’t tell the Librarians that)
  • Have cleaned cooker
  • Have done washing up

With any luck there’ll be actual thoughts appearing in this space soon.


PS. Yes, I know. I said “a university”. Just point the finger and call me an hypocrite. 😉

Another reason for hating 365.242199 days’ resolutions

I seem to be full of spleen and temper at the moment. In fact I’m not nearly as cross as I seem but the only things I can think of blogging about are the things that make me Ms Angry. Or Mistress Temperful, perhaps.

First day back at work yesterday, and I cracked dawn to get there in time to go swimming before hand. I arrived at about 7.45. I’d got up at 6.00 to leave the house at 7.00. That’s a big shock to a girl’s system after 17 days lolling around having grapes peeled by minions and served on a silver salver. Ish.

So there I am. It’s 07.45 am. It’s dark. It’s cold. It’s Monday. It’s raining. And there’s a queue for the car park at the pool. A queue. For the car park. And if there’s a traffic jam outside the pool, then there’ll be traffic jams inside it. I hate swimming when the lanes are full.

You see? You see why I dislike New Year’s resolutions? If you want to exercise, then do something about it when you realise that the fat in your diet is going to suffocate you, one artery at a time, instead of waiting till New Bloody Year and clogging the place up with your listless wishful thinking.

Snarl.


(I am actually in a reasonably benign mood, but hiding it astonishingly well!)

2007 – New Year’s Resolutions. Sort of.

I’m not very good at New Year’s Resolutions. I don’t really get the whole dividing-time-arbitarily-up-into-years thing anyway. The former Mr Behn once pointed out that I’d forgotten my own wedding anniversary and suggested I check the date on the inside of my wedding ring. I was three days out, though I got the month and the year right. I don’t always manage that though: I recently realised that I am two years younger than I thought I was. I’d simply lost count.

I understand what makes solstices and equinoxes special, but I really don’t understand what is so special about 365 days. It isn’t even a year. 365.242199 days I kinda get but, even so, it is still pretty chance-ridden and – well – local. The planet’s had longer years, it’s had shorter years. It’s all just happenstance, really.

All of this is a pre-amble to say that I don’t get years, I don’t get new years and I really don’t get new years resolutions, but 2007 Resolutions is a hot tag and as a cool web-babe and cyber-chick, I don’t want to miss out, so here goes.

Counting my blessings. It is so easy to concentrate on the back-ache I do have and forget the migraine I don’t; to concentrate on the new coat I cannot afford, not the gas bill I can; on the unmandated acts of war by our government, not the democracy which gives us the chance to vote them out. So my first New 365.242199 days’ Resolution for 2007 is to count my blessings.

Agenda-free time. I plan. I schedule. I am very driven by things that I ought to do. I don’t chill enough. All too often I am a human doing and I forget that I am a human being. The best I can manage with this one is to schedule days when I don’t schedule things. Agenda-free time. It’s crap really, but it’s a start.

Physical well-being. This is the general purpose one: swim more, eat less, sleep more, drink less tea, drink more water, be healthier, live longer, die older. That one. I’ve spent a lot of energy sorting out my job, my home, all sorts of things these past two-three years. Now, as Mike Yarwood used to say at the end of his show, “this is me”.

I think that is all I can manage at the moment. There are lots of other things I could add to the list, but these are the three that will make the most difference, I think.

Why can’t we all live in a world without armageddon brewing in the Middle East, legacy-hunting testosterone-monkeys in the Whitehouse and Downing Street, and climate change looking at the clock, tapping its fingers on the bar, and waiting until it can call “Time, Gentlemen please” on us all?

*breathing in*

*breathing out*

*counting blessings*

In the words of Nina Simone,

Got my hair on my head
Got my brains, Got my ears
Got my eyes, Got my nose
Got my mouth, I got my smile
I got my tongue, Got my chin
Got my neck, Got my boobies
Got my heart, Got my soul
Got my back, I got my sex

Thank the goddess for that. Particularly the boobies.