New Year Resolution #1. Get back to writing.

I’m getting a head start on my resolutions and looking back over the old 12 months.

January: I didn’t want to start so negatively but I read this poem in early Jan 2019. I won’t mention him again, hopefully.

February: Now that’s over with, I’m moving on to more joyful things. Auckland traffic is hell. Me coming home from work. Love my commute.

March: To heck with the budget. Call me materialistic. Timothy Oulton, you are my main (furniture) man. Hey, it’s now a family heirloom…justify, justify. Now saving for the (small, come on I’m reasonable,) gyro chandelier and maybe the infinity mirror…or not.

April: Happy birthday to me. Will there be enough food? You can’t eat flowers. (Or can you?)

April was also rat catching month.

May: Friday Poem book, edited by Steve Braunias. A great buy. Paula Harris you make me guffaw in an unseemly kind of way.

June: A Little Sortie to Samoa.

July: A spot of winter knitting. Paige has duly arrived now and is entertaining my BFF, a doting new Grandma.

August: Sam secured a Kiwibuild apartment that is supposed to be finished soon…it was all that smashed avocado he cut down on. He didn’t even use the Bank of Mum, so very proud of his frugal ways and savings record.

Also in August was the Women’s Bookshop birthday celebration. A great afternoon of women’s stories. Name drop alert, my friend Fiona Farrell was the best!

September: they finally started on my possible next move…. 15 months late so I’m still deciding. the Shexit survey is underway. Should I remain or should I leave?

October: Poppy season, my number one favourite. I love to watch those furry testicles drop and the papery flowers emerge. Note to friends, these and violets only at my funeral please.

November: an act of kindness. I came home to find that a friend’s husband had water blasted my deck. So delighted and grateful.

December: Scaling down on Christmas decorations.

December was also when family and a friend had a perfect day out to Fleur’s Place in Moeraki. By (blue)cod it was good!

December culminated in a wonderful Christmas at Waipu. Christmas Eve elves were out and about, walking with dinosaurs.

These are of course, mainly the lovely things. Call it fake news I guess. It wasn’t all elves and poppies. My dearest friend is now in a home with Alzheimers, the fires raging in Australia are unimaginably horrible, Whakaari, a nightmare. Every day we hear of another unbelievable rant from a mentally unstable orange man who is now joined by another bad hair day bloke. If only it was just the hair. In the face of mortality, though, onward we go and I am now attempting to fill in the required Christmas card official form.

Wish list: This is purely indulgence on my part, I am not wishing for peace on earth or an end to child poverty and a miraculous miracle for the climate crisis, though I do wish all these things. This is all about me….and I can’t get number 1 to justify. Argh technology! I also can’t resize the pictures so sorry about that.

1. Paris for ten days, a walking or cycling stint of ten to fifteen kms a day on a flat surface with great food breaks at regular intervals and a stay with old friends in the Pyrenees. See what I did there? Got three wishes in under the one wish category.

2. Retire completely, although this may be a bit unrealistic.

3. Transform Jacob Putker’s print into a full-sized wall paper. He has given me permission! I am keeping which one a secret. But here is a sample.

4. To love and be loved. That’s all. I know Leunig’s record is blemished this year and I agree with the women who called him to account but..

5. That those around me; my book club, walking group, other friends and family have lives of meaning and bouts of happiness amidst the chaos of the everyday, oh and eat some really good food and drink some great wine and read some inspiring poetry and some brilliant books and laugh quite a bit after the crying bit and watch the Black Caps win a test (well it is wishful thinking). Oh and flowers, every day.

Lastly, favourite stuff this year

TV series -Fleabag,

Movie Bellbird, who needs dialogue? Brilliant.

Non fiction, The Art of Travel Alain de Botton,

Fiction, Grief is the Thing with Feathers. Don’t know how but somehow, Porter nails grief.

Poetry- The Friday Poem

Finally, take your pick from this year’s crop of quotes:

1. Every New Year is the direct descendant, isn’t it, of a long line of proven criminals? ~Ogden Nash
2. For last year’s words belong to last year’s language/And next year’s words await another voice./And to make an end is to make a beginning. ~T. S. Eliot

With love and hope and a glass of bubbles, happy new year! FGx