Puzzled All Day, Snowed All Night

Our New Year's tradition is not the stereotypical find a party and drink until next year, since as an introvert that sounds to me more like a punishment than anything enjoyable.

Instead we do as a family what I did as a kid: buy a tasty fancy party spread of our own (insert your favorite buffet foods here), buy a sufficiently-challenging jigsaw puzzle, and stay up as late as we can bear working on it and nibbling.

Our son actually lasted until 11pm until he was just too tired.

New Year's Day is spent finishing the puzzle, however long that takes. This pretty puzzle is from a painting by Josephine Wall, her "Oak Fairy".

So knitting had to wait in line. I think putting a jigsaw puzzle together is a pretty good way to start a year, all built up of small interlocking pieces to make a whole at the end.
I say "snowed all night," but in truth it snowed gently all yesterday and all last night, and it's supposed to snow until afternoon.

Later this week, they are predicting rain showers (!) and a high temperature in the 40's, about 4 degrees C, so I have to enjoy the snow while we have it.

I don't do New Year's resolutions. Grand, sweeping plans to change my life don't seem to work for me.

The best tool I ever discovered for making things happen in my life was an idea called a "presumé" (rhymes with resumé, the kind you send out when you apply for a job) that I read about in a probably out-of-print book called Get It All Done and Still Be Human, by Tony and Robbie Fanning.

A presumé is my fantasy future, a statement of where I would be six months from now, if all of the things I want to happen, that are physically possible for me, came true.

Other people's goals for me don't go on there. If your mother wants you to paint your house purple, and living in a purple house doesn't set your twomblies trembling, "painted the house purple" does not get written down.

It's not all about work, although if you have work goals you can certainly include them. It's kind of like one of those glowing Christmas newsletters some people like to send out: in fact, that would make an excellent model for a presumé.

I like to title the paper "July 2008" (or the month and year six months from now) and then write as if it's already happened. It's amazing to look at old presumés tucked in the back of the book and see how many of those things actually did happen. Just writing it out seems to act as a seed crystal and help events and my actions crystallize around it in the form of my half-forgotten wish.

So in a nutshell (with my usual lack of brevity, that would be a coconut shell), that's why you won't find a list of resolutions here!