Resolve

 

I sort of make new year's resolutions, but not exactly. (Maybe this year I'll begin to consider using slightly more definitive language.)

I'm not going to resolve to do anything I don't want to do, even if it would make me a better person. I wouldn't, for example, resolve to learn how to cook (why would I do that? I don't enjoy cooking) or run a marathon (tried that last year and ended up in physical therapy).

Better for me to lose a bad habit, or do more of something I've been wanting to do. 

So: 

quit worrying

garden more (the condition of the yard is getting to me)

exercise more

You?

New Year's Resolutions

Riverland Terrace, James Island, S.C.

Ugggh. I've picked up the nasty cold virus that is going around  and was relieved I didn't have to do much today. I sound awful. Cough, sniff.

I did drag myself out of my favorite couch corner this afternoon to walk through Riverland Terrace. It's a lovely neighborhood of reasonably sized cottages, oak lined streets, close to the water and my favorite theater.

I had just started my walk when I was waved over by a gentleman who lifted a drape covering this vintage Harley like a magician revealing a treasure. He'd brought her down in boxes from Ohio and reassembled her lovingly. He was a widower of three years. He was the "Top Dawg" painted on the side and his wife's name "Cheech" was still on the back. Cheech used to enjoy riding behind him.

I had surely walked right into a New Year's resolution in action.  Get the bike ready to ride. Talk to women. Life goes on.

Happy New Year, Top Dawg. I think you are going to be okay.