Resolutions, for me, are typically broken by the middle of January. If I try really hard, I might be able to stretch it until the first of February and only if I fib to myself.
This year is going to be different. Instead of setting the usual 'ole boring resolutions like eating healthy, exercising and having a better attitude, I came up with a list of things that I'm pretty sure I won't be doing. That is, unless, my personality drastically changes due to menopausal mental madness.
Being the first shopper in a store will never be important enough for me to trample on another person. We can only hope these crazed shoppers will show up again next year, be first in line, and trip over their shoestrings.
If ever I find myself not wanting to write personal notes in Christmas cards or can't afford stamps, I will not resort to e-mailing an E-card. If I become that complacent about holiday greetings, I will consider myself a turkey.
I will never eat fruitcake or eggnog. Their names alone are reason enough not to try these holiday mishaps -- and what the heck is figgy pudding?
Making dietary pumpkin pie will not happen again in my lifetime. Not only did it taste like mush, it looked like mush and the low fat graham cracker pie crust turned into rubber.
When my guy says I don't know how to do something, I will try to stop saying I do, even when I don't. Wrecking his new remote controlled helicopter into the fireplace wasn't worth pretending to be an expert.
I'm done with real Christmas trees. They are called pine needles for a reason, especially when they're sticking out of the bottom of your foot.
Last year I resolved to lose weight. When they say it's a lifestyle change they're not kidding. Mostly I miss chocolate, my comfort food. I can't kid myself with sugar-free chocolate, as it doesn't melt in your mouth like the real thing. I’m now at a standstill. So it has to be exercise this year. If I could work out in the garden year-round I'd be OK but since that isn't possible I'm going to have to find a way to exercise without getting bored. I don't mind sweating, but I prefer to be able to see what I've accomplished afterwards and sitting on an exercise bike isn't getting it for me.
I offered to chop wood for exercise, although he didn't think swinging an ax was a good idea with my track record of accidents. Instead he suggested I fix the fence I mowed over with the tractor. I told him I would except I was worried the barbed wire might tear my overalls or worse yet – I might break a nail. How can he say I’m fickle?
This year my resolution is going to be to not have any resolutions.
-- Sandy Turner lives in Independence. Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org