It was a still, scorching hot 39 degree New Year’s Eve yesterday. We sat in the blessed dark coolness of Diggers Cafe in Heronswood with our tongues hanging out like puppies, watching the heirloom vegetables outside sizzle in the sun, and made our New Years Resolutions lists.
My favourites from the kids’ lists – from Dylan: “I will take better care of myself” and “I will spend more time outside” , and from Finn, the slightly contradictory “to meditate everyday” and “more multitasking”.
I am a sucker for lists, I probably have 20 To Do list productivity apps on my phone (which I never use, I always end up using Notes for everything). It’s just the idea of ticking things off that appeals to me, because I am so disorganised in some areas of my life and in other areas, I have military grade precision systems in place.
Some of the things on my list for 2016:
– Play more board games with the family
– Spend more time on the farm
– Camping or sailing with the kids (this is part of their usual camping tribe below)
– Make more time for friends. I can be very anti-social when I’m busy because I’m surrounded by a huge team all day at work and people dashing in and out of my office, and then when I get home, the kids take over with their poking, prodding, pestering, pleading. A hot bath with sage bath oil and a cold sheet mask is my prescription for sanity. So I realised I haven’t really been all that great a friend for the past 6 months.
– And getting back to writing again. Last year I was all tapped out after the constant proposal and paper writing at work and writing just felt like more work. My book agent called to tell me that a publisher was interested in my memoir, but I didn’t even have the time to do an edit or look at contract terms.
But over the past weeks I have been getting that itch again. There are stories inside that have been bubbling on the back burner and I need to get them out before they evaporate and turn into a burnt stain of a memory. It could be my blog, it could be another book, but I know I need to write, it’s part of who I am.
So 2016, here’s to you, you beautiful, unknown, feral animal. As we say in our family when we talk about our hopes, may it be so.