OK, so here we are: three days in.
The old year has gone to wherever old years go — a calendar recycling depot, presumably — and a new one has shown up in its place. It’s still a baby, so hard to say what it will look like.
Three days in and I suppose I ought to, well, do something of note to welcome it. I’m not one for resolutions. I have no intention of giving up chocolate or signing up for a marathon clinic.
But still. I’m thinking I might try my hand at something new this year. You might say I’m casting about for a hobby.
I am not talking flamenco dancing. I am not talking cake decorating. I am talking, oh, competitive ironing. Seriously. I can press a darn-fine dress shirt, and would happily challenge anyone to do me one better.
Then there’s bed-making. Where that’s concerned, I’m a pro. I can plump the pillows better than anyone out there. I can smooth the bumps out of the duvet big-time. And hospital corners? Heck, I could teach a course on how to master them. Bed-making has hobby written all over it.
I’m not going to take up stamp collecting this year, and I’m not going to collect seashells or vintage tins either. But hey, it might be kind of fun to collect something out of the ordinary. Like erasers, say. Or chopsticks. Or Band-Aids. What’s not to love about collecting Band-Aids? Talk about combining the fun with the practical.
The husband has a hobby — it’s called g-o-l-f — so he isn’t likely to search out anything new in 2019.
But in 2019, it’ll be my turn to find something to get passionate about. Tried sewing once, but found that rather dull. Tried oil painting, but I wasn’t very good.
I tried gardening, but couldn’t coax anything to survive for more than a week or two, possibly because watering was not included on my hobby list.
Let’s see now. We’re three days in and I really ought to nail this down. It may be that I’ll end up plumping my pillows while ironing my blouses and sorting my Band-Aids.
A fit? Probably not. I think I’ll just go for a nap instead.
