Peerie Snurty and the New Year's Resolutions.

3 weeks seems a reasonable run in to some New Year's resolutions. The first of January has never seemed a good time to start anything new. Come the 3rd the only thing my days had had in common were getting up after midday, red wine and chocolate. Retrospective resolutions weren't looking hopeful, though a year of indulgence might not be an entirely bad thing. Anyway, I was still on holiday, who has resolve on holiday? Then I was going back to work, unavoidable by-product of being on holiday, and planning going to a funeral, and being on holiday again, then going back to work again...and then...now. Well now have a wee cold. Or a peerie snurty nose and a cough, which is certainly on its way away, but still serves as a valid excuse. So really, as you can well see, resolutions have not been convenient. I have, however, gone quite beyond all expectations and planned some resolutions.

A good three week cooling off period lets outrageous resolutions be reigned in, levels the excessive and gives an idea of the reasonable. I have gone for some themes, more than specifics.

First off is writing - blog, letters, cards, diary, notes, maybe even some short stories. Possibly about bras, a delight that may grace the blog....grafitti maybe. Maybe not, I'm not very good at breaking rules. Grafitti with wipeable pen. On a whiteboard. Check...

Then running - which will cover all kinds of activity, bit of netball (more on that sometime), bit of running, walking, jumping, leaping...a bit of something most days. I really need to move more. I've bought something bright pink and visible to run in. I've even worn running kit once this year. I drove all the way home in it. It was quite exhausting.

Packed lunches - This has begun in earnest, mostly through a combination of shame and preparation by my dutiful, and unexpectedly domesticated peerie viking. I'd always thought they were all about boat burning (to cries of "It's not a boat, it's a GALLEY! And its not a parade, it's a procession, it's not gay pride day."), raping and pillaging, ransacking and the like - they don't tell you about the soup making, shopping, meal planning and packed lunching in ye olde stories. When "Need anything from the shops?" brings the answer "Maybe just some broccoli, bacon and stilton, I might make soup while you're away." rather than, "Sausages, bacon, black pudding, white pudding, sausermeat, onions, eggs, beans, bread (insert any other breakfast item you can think of, bar hot tomatoes)" you know something has changed. He dutifully makes his lunch every night, though every new things he thinks up for lunch seems to go in combination with everything else. There is no subsitution, only addition. Hungry work, evidently. And if he makes his own, how can I not? Long may it continue. It seems to be working out. I might need him to play at rugged and manly every once in a while. Can't be a broccoli and stilton man everyday.

Being lovely. This one is more difficult, but is mostly about effort, on two fronts - smile and be lovely, and get-out-of-bed-in-time-to-brush-your-hair and be lovely. I think, for the first time in a long time, probably ever (no offence intended in the direction of some of my mother's early years attempts, though offence was almost certainly caused at the time) I have a hairstyle. As opposed to just hair, which is what I had before. Its still the same hair, just chopped a bit differently. And I think I owe it to the poor girl who chops it to try and make it look at least half as nice as she makes it when she cuts it. More on hair will follow...it is an ongoing, ever-growing (har har) saga.

Save some cash. Or stop spending money on things I don't want or need - which really should be straight forward.

A nice round 5 - writing, running, packed lunches, loveliness and money. The essence of life perhaps. Now for bed. Then some more regular updating...I seem to have developed something of a social life this week though, so I'll maybe just need to squeeze a wee blog in somewhere.