In lieu of a retrospective
I choose not to do a retrospective analysis of the past 365 days. Too fresh in my mind. Instead, I think I’ll look at some of the last things I am doing, this year. People in Australia watched the ball drop, or the fireworks erupt or whatever it is they do to salute the incoming year. Here, the routine is different.
There’s a new calendar on the refrigerator. Early enough that I can note my schedule for next weekend, so that’s a positive thing. And on a first glance, it appears to have the 7 days a week/365 days/52 weeks/12 months correctly covered. My elementary arithmetic skills reveal that this will not be leap year, so I won’t check February.
Some needs aren’t predicated by the calendar; I’ve just returned from the supermarket, where I was able to find more dog food AND a pizza with pineapple. Despite the festivities, some products don’t sell out. Mustard pickles, sadly, do. If ever I make one of those resolutions, learning to pickle garden produce will be high on the page.
Also, meals are independent of any change in the accounting of sunrises. We might go for a community spag-supper, although there are a few hours remaining before I have to commit. What if I prepare a batch of KD, and call my pasta requirement for the remainder of this year as fulfilled? Will anyone notice my absence?
The car has a full tank of gas, ($1.01 per litre) and the lane is cleared (until the next storm starts, in a matter of hours). What if I take off and leave the area; an unplanned road trip? No, because then I’d miss the bland television shows dealing with mainstream humour and musical performance.
