Scottish Field’s online columnist Brash McKelvie thinks New Year’s resolutions are a waste of time.
Here are the cast of characters that share the vicissitudes of life:
Scragend – a Rhode Island Red of indeterminate age and foul nature.
Shitting Cat – does exactly what it says on the tin.
The Beloved – a paragon of virtue and a self-appointed critic of most of my thoughts and actions.
Snr and Jnr Orifice – our fledged offspring.
I’m doing my downward dog – are you?
After this I’m going back into the house to finish my new Spanish guitar piece that I am currently learning. After that I shall probably juice some Kale and Dental Floss, apple, mint and floor mop and down the resulting concoction rejoicing in the sure and certain knowledge that my innards are being flooded by life enhancing electrolytes and my breath will smell like pine scented Toilet Duck.
Lastly I think a spot of fly tying is in order whilst as the same time learning conversational Mandarin on my Rosetta Stone ‘Learn a language in 30 minutes flat’ cyber wallah disc set.
You see? This is what another new year does to you. A ‘new you’ and a new chance to fulfil all the cobwebbed ambitions that are put into cold storage as soon as January is passed. So this New Year, this 2020, leaves us bombarded with thoughts of what we should do, what we could do, and of course DEFINITELY WILL DO, and in the end we become like rabbits in the spotlights … sitting bolt still, brains racing with all the options available, whilst not one limb takes action.
So here is a thought. If you, like me, somewhat balk at partaking in a ‘salutation to the sun’ (in case it ends up in a quick visit to the local infirmary ) or cannot thole the hysterical laughter of your offspring as they catch you doing a few badly judged squats and lunges in what you thought was the privacy of your own shed/study, or worse yet wince at the sneering cynicism of the Beloved response when you mention all the task that are definitely going to be completed this year, this new 2020, then take heart.
I have the solution. Do none of it.
What was so wrong with the old you? The old you that managed to get through last year?
You have not been sent to the colonies for preaching sedition – even with the temptation of living in such ludicrous times – no, you have done well. You managed to hide the rising resentment as your offspring tore into yet another Christmas present when you were sure you had stated to the Beloved that there were only to be two gifts each this year.
You have not found yourself outside British Broadcasting House demonstrating at the crass unsuitability of some of their countryside presenters (and if you have, well done you). No, you are all right.
Scragend has made it quite clear that any attempts to change her fiery nature are not to be countenanced – as was witnessed when that most hopeful, but stupid, of birds – our lusty cockerel sallied up to her, and ‘glad-eyed’ her. She gave him such a hammering that he has not dared to come out of the hen house for days now.
I know how he feels.
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