Christmas is over and as far as I can tell, the goose never got fat. Well, who knows, we had meat and potatoes at my family’s (hello, Irish roots), so maybe the goose is living it up somewhere out there all plump.
I did a lot of lounging, reading about 2 years’ worth of magazines, and ripping out pages and pages of new recipes to try (lemon orzo soup, chocolate with pepitas), shopping for a toasty coat and snow boots, watching old Northern Exposure episodes, and packing up pounds of baked goods my mom made me to take home (my great-grandmother’s fudge, chocolate chip cookies, and English muffin loaf). I read a couple of books (reviews to come), watched football, and shoveled. A lot.
With the turning of the calendar, the biggest question is whether we’ll be calling it two thousand and ten or the snappy twenty ten. I prefer the latter. Either way, a new year means new resolutions. Last year, for the first time in ages, I didn’t make any, and I was left with nothing to review and to check off. Satisfaction denied. This year, I’m back in the game.
1. Eat more salads.
I’m scouting out the best salad cookbook and plan to experiment with vinaigrettes to spice things up.
2. Read books outside my comfort zone.
I’ll be picking up books I normally wouldn’t go for: those that challenge me, those with plots that sound un-me like, and maybe even one (gasp!) with an unattractive cover.
3. Have more experiences.
That’s a recurring one for me, but I like to keep it on the list to remind me say “yes” to lots of things.
And then there are those resolutions you keep to yourself but work on in hopes of being a better person. We’ll see how it goes.
How about you?