A Life Less Resolute

“2011 will be the year in which I ….”

Can you complete that sentence yet?  Chances are, you can neatly slot in an answer inspired by your New Year’s resolutions.

Not me.  It’s not that I don’t have ideas for resolutions.  I’m certainly eligible for all the usual suspects:  eat less, drink less alcohol, go to bed earlier, exercise more.  But last year I didn’t actively make any resolutions, yet 2010 turned out to be one of the best years of my life.  It’s a formula I’m happy to repeat.

How did it happen?  Well, a radical resolution actually came at me from out of the blue, several days into the new year.   It was as sudden and unplanned as Newton’s apple falling on his head and, in my small sphere, about as revolutionary. I was in the first meeting of the year with my boss when I suddenly heard myself calmly tendering my resignation. It was unprovoked by her: we hadn’t had a row or a punch-up.   But in a light-bulb moment, I suddenly realised what I really wanted the new year to bring:  a better and less stressful work-life balance.  Amidst the sturm and drang of the Christmas break, spent caring for a very poorly daughter, this idea must have been churning away in my subconscious, but I simply hadn’t noticed.   I’m not sure which of us was the most surprised at my resignation – me or my boss.  But both of us recognised, several months down the line, that I was a happier, healthier person for this impulsive decision, and I’ve not had a single regret since.

So this year, I’m going to take the same approach.   Though I love the new beginnings and the promise that a new calendar brings, I don’t think New Year’s Day is the best time to make resolutions.   In any case, for most people in the UK, the word “RESOLVE” is inextricably associated with the commercial hangover cure of the same name – and probably quite a lot of them have consumed it today.   This doesn’t exactly create the most positive vibes.  Far better to let the freshness of the new year permeate the subconscious and see what surfaces at its leisure.

So watch this space.  Anything could happen in the next 365 days…

Happy New Year!

The Tyranny of the Christmas Card

Image via Wikipedia

Well, that’s it, I’m finally ready Christmas.  It’s just a pity that Christmas  couldn’t wait a little longer for me.

On December 1st, the inescapable countdown begins, and my heart sinks a little lower with every passing day.  No, not the countdown to Christmas Day – opening presents and eating too much I can cope with.  What I dread is the arrival of the last posting date for Christmas cards.

Always, I buy my cards in plenty of time for that deadline, picking up tany that strike my fancy as and when I see them.  I’m very particular, avoiding anything fluffily sentimental or inappropriately commercial.  Favourite designs are those depicting snowy postboxes (ironic, considering my aversion) because I live in an old post office, wintry Cotswold scenes reminiscent of my own village, and anything  at all in support of my favourite charity, the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF).

I spend a great deal of time thinking about the friends and relations I’ll be sending them to, fondly recalling their last year’s Christmas message, wondering how this year has treated them,  and selecting snippets of my news to tell them.  But my inspiration always falls at inappropriate times when I don’t have a Christmas card to hand – driving in the car, pushing a trolley round the supermarket, submerged in the bath.

Meanwhile the blur that is Advent begins, with a rush of Christmas shopping, nativity plays, carol concerts, and parties at home, school and work.  In such a social whirlwind, it’s all I can do to keep the household running smoothly, with quick pit-stops between events.  And I like to get the house extra clean and tidy so that it’s a more pleasant place in which to spend the extended holiday. The house doesn’t dust itself, you know (contrary to my husband’s apparent belief).

Around 5th December, I make a start on the cards, transferring my stockpile from my Christmas cupboard (well, it gives me the illusion of being prepared) to my desk.  Then I amass my various address books, paper and electronic, and the writing process begins.

The people who are only due a simple greeting message get priority treatment.  Those meriting a letter are set aside to be picked off one at a time later, in reverse order of the likely length of the letter.  Thus the friends to whom I plan to send the longest letters receive theirs last of all.  They may appear to suffer from the greatest neglect, but my intentions for them are of the very best.

This year, they’ve had to wait a very long time indeed.  I know myself better these days than to stock up on Christmas second-class stamps.  I accept that the second class posting deadline will have come and gone long before my cards are ready to send.  First class it will have to be.  But what I really need this year is some sort of uber-first-class, a time-travelling stamp that can make a card posted after Christmas Day arrive a few days beforehand.  Only today have I finally finished and posted the final card, slinking furtively up to the pillarbox, slipping them  through the slot as guiltily as if despatching a signed confession.

This year, I’m thankful that any friends who don’t read my blog may just blame the snow for the delay in receiving a card from me.  When my missive  finally arrives, they may be glad to have belated proof that I’m not dead.  But my honest nature compels me to confess my inadequacy.

By chance, one of the cards I chose this year  had a 12 Days of Christmas theme.  I’m hoping that recipients will pick up the subliminal message that the festive season doesn’t officially end till January 6th.  That would left me off the hook.

However, sufficient is my chagrin to make me resolve to do better next year. Some people I know start their Christmas shopping in the January sales.  Maybe I should resolve to start writing my 2011 Christmas cards the moment the new year dawns.

Happy New Year, everyone.  No, actually, make that Merry Christmas!