I was just thinking. This time last year I wasn't very well. I had already had one visit to hospital, but was still feeling not right. My very good Chef friend made us some delightful New Year's food, all carefully designed to be easily eaten and digested. And it was delicious, as well as being easily digested. Not long after that however I was taken rather more ill and had to be admitted. The rest you may know.
Just a year later, I am surprisingly fit and well. Except for this bloody cold thing. Yes, it's now 2 months and, not only can I not shake it off, but I seem to have had a relapse.
Anyway, I would like to be writing that the experiences of the last year have been life-changing. How wonderful to say that I have peered over the edge or into the abyss, or been given the chance of a peek into the future or some such! Or how about describing my new perception of the preciousness and vibrancy of life, of the greater vividness of the greens of the grass and the trees, or the new deeper meaning of the spectacular sunsets I now enjoy, or the added piquancy of my breakfast sausage? I could write a book or a film script or . . . a blog. It might have been a sort of road to Damascus moment, such that I will never stay in bed beyond 8 o'clock again and waste all those precious daylight hours, or that I will stop and close my eyes in luxurious appreciation as I drink my first cup of tea of the day, instead of drinking it as I have my morning scratch and read the paper, or that I will throw the windows open every morning and drink in the sights, sounds and smells of the world and smile at next door's cat crapping in my flowerbed before I start my day. Or maybe I should be saying that I have at last been encouraged to join the local abseiling club, or in gratitude spend every morning volunteering at Haslemere Hospital, or in contrition give up my packet of shortbread biscuits a day?
But the truth is that nothing very much seems to have changed.
Somehow, at the start of a new year, we are conditioned to compose resolutions, to promise to do something, or not do something, over the months ahead. I can't even say in all honesty that I have done that. This is perhaps the first New Year when I haven't approached the future with a sense of renewal or renewed sense of promise. In short, life just goes on.
Initially, when I sat down to write this, I thought I'd be expanding on my vision of my life over the next year, that I'd think up some noble course of action, or some impressive project to complete, or a glorious act with which to dazzle you all. But it turns out I have written a confession of ignoble sloth or insouciance. I'm just getting up, eating, reading the paper, undertaking some chores, eating some more, watching some television and going back to bed. And, yes, I confess I should be doing more. Maybe it's the weather, or the season, or just me. Maybe I've now done everything in my life? Maybe that's why I can't think of anything to resolve to do. Or perhaps it's because we didn't move to a new area last year, as we usually have done as soon as we've settled in, and I thus have nothing different to do here?
Still, at least I do look in my diary before I start my day to make sure there isn't something I should be doing. OK, that's my New Year resolution - definitely look in my diary every day. Even if I then don't do anything.