To anyone reading this blog entry, I wish you a happy, healthy and prosperous New Year. I hope for you that you live well and that your hopes and dreams for 2009 are realized.
My resolution this year is to start my 2009 Christmas knitting in February. That way I can post it, hope no one in my family sees it (or does, and forgets by Christmas time). Starting my holiday knitting in February will allow me to get stuff done on time and I can keep my knitting groove on.
But it's not my only resolution.
Instead of making resloutions I won't keep, or even try to keep, and instead of denying myself some things I really want, I'm going to base this year's resolutions on past experiences. Things that were said to me (out of love, I'm sure) or things about myself that I know need changing.
My darling son, who loves me more than life itself I'm sure (who says he's never moving out, but ONLY because he doesn't want me to be alone and thereby ruining my senior citizenry to the grave), has given me one suggestion about how to improve myself.
My (then 13 year old) son told me that he HAS to have a mustache by the time he's in 9th grade, he was in 8th grade at the time. He said: "Mom, I just have to have a mustache by the time I get to 9th grade." To this I asked, "It doesn't matter. What's up with that?" His response was, as he enumerated his friends: "Lionel has one. Jordan has one. You have one ....". Zoiks! From that time to this there have been a few mutterings about a "fu manchu" and a "goatee like yours".
I resolve to keep my upper lip waxed.
I was on the train headed to work one day and I managed to get a seat, so I pulled out the sock I was working on. Somehow my one stitch marker went flying and landed on the floor about 3 feet away. I tried to will the stitch marker back to me with my eyes, come back, come baaaack to me! Ohhhh nooooo! Instead, it got stepped on and kicked farther away. I was distraught (and probably whimpering audibly), but not enough to get out of my seat. It ruined my day.
I resolve to buy (or make) more stitch markers.
My cat, Little Miss Kitty (who doubles as a Princess Diva hit woman assasin), has made mince meat out of more than one skein of yarn. Her trick is to use stealth to steal my yarn, then get as far away from me as she possibly can leaving a string trail so she can then eat said skein. How I usually find her is by the gaspy, raspy noise she makes when she's chewing yarn (and she chews faster when she sees me).
Believe it or not, I can live with that. What I can't live with is when (if) I catch her she's willing to fight me to the death for it, standing on her hind legs with claws bared an all.
I resolve not to kill the cat.
These resolutions are much better than swearing off chocolate (honestly, have you ever eaten a SKOR bar? Then I rest my case.)
Wish me luck.