New Year Resolutions

Boy my ass is sore. I had an extremely busy first day in Hawaii and some of that time included riding my bike farther than I had intended. Once I figured out the free trolley was no longer free and the schedule had changed, I returned home to ride my bike into town to go shopping, the bank and the farmer’s market. Except I discovered a spoke broke on my front tire and that needed immediate attention, more immediate than the leaky toilet tank, which wasn’t really leaking.

That cylinder thing in the tank was acting more like the two fountains Spic and Spac in Congress Park (Saratoga Springs,New York)spitting water out of the tank. In my attempt to fix the errant water flow, I caused a leak at the shut off valve. Without a car to fetch replacement parts and with a jet lagged head that couldn’t reason where the condo water supply shut off valve was, I enacted plan B. Except the plumber wasn’t available until Monday. Plan C was to put into action: a pan underneath the leak. I went to get my bike fixed.

Bike Works were pretty busy and the guy at the shop couldn’t guarantee he’d get to me, until I told him it was my only mode of transport. During my wait, I constructively used the time to jot a few New Year’s Resolutions.

I resolve not to do a job, unless I have the tools. That ought to make the New Year much simpler. If the job needs to be done I’ll…

1. Buy the tool
2. Hire some one with the tool
3. Leave well enough alone.
   

I like the last option best, but honestly, it isn’t too practical when it comes to plumbing.

I resolve not to go outside unless my face has a thick coating of sun block 15. This resolution was made twenty five years too late, but I figure I have at least thirty more good years ahead of me, so why look like a prune? People say I favor my Dad, but I didn’t inherit his skin. Have you seen a less wrinkled 86 year old man?

I resolve to refurbish the rifle in my Dad’s basement. The gun has been hanging on the wall for years. A couple of weeks ago, something made me reach over the freezer take it off the two inverted deer hooves where it has been collecting dust since dust has been collecting.

I got to pause here and explain those deer hooves. It frankly fits no décor in my father’s house (thank God) except my older brother’s bedroom during those years when he was still young enough to sport a Daniel Boone raccoon cap. Anyway, with gun in hand I was so tempted to pull the trigger. If the cats had not been lurking in the basement, I probably would have.

To the best of my knowledge, there has never been any ammo in the house, but as I stood there with my itchy trigger finger I couldn’t recall where the rifle had came from. Mom hated guns even to the point that she thought toys guns at Christmas should be outlawed. There’s a Democrat for you.

Dad’s M15 from WWII was upstairs in his bedroom and Grandpa’s squirrel rifle was hanging over Robin’s kitchen sink. Where did this one come from?

I completely understood how little kids accidentally shoot other little kids. I was dying to pull the trigger and assuming the gun wasn’t and never had been. That’s when I decided to take it to a gun shop and have them look the thing over. Not just for bullets but, to put it in good working order. Sorry Mom, I think it is time to bear arms, but only if they are lathered with SPF 15.

I resolve to add gold to my portfolio. What portfolio?

I resolve to eat organic at least once a week. No make that once a month. Have you seen the price of organic beets in the supermarket? It's an outrage. You'd think I had money to invest in gold or something.

I’ve been itching to write. All through December, I would not allow myself. I liked the feeling of wanting to get back to the keyboard. I had lots of ideas. But I hung onto the feeling that had not been there all summer and fall. I blamed work for not writing. Truthfully, it has been me. When I applied for a real HR job in Malta, New York I was kind of serious about it. My brother in law asked, “What about your writing?”

“What writing?” I replied.

Well, I didn't get called in for an interview, so I'm back to writing.

I’m pacing myself. When I got back to Hawaii I decided to make sure I put things in order first. This morning I spent three hours cleaning the jungle out of my back yard. I don’t know how it grew because the maintenance guys turned the water off. However, the plants in the pots are just hanging on. I filled two large trash bags with dead leaves. Tomorrow, the aphids die.

Maybe I’ll write about that. My resolution on writing is three fold:

1. Diablo is running away and will Twitter (Southboundcat) about her five month exploits as she makes her way from Saratoga Springs to Kona, Hawaii. That’s one determined cat. Occasionally, she’ll blog at SouthboundCats.blogspot.com.
2. I will reactivate Beyond The Sail, shooting for at least three times a week.
3. Yes, the book. I’m not leaving the island without a book. Even if I have to buy one.
   

There's a resolution worth keeping.

Now about that leak...