I never make New Year's resolutions- never. I despise the idea that we must wait for a set time to resolve and commit to a new something or other. Totally meaningless in my book. I resolve and commit all the time. I don't need a special day for it. For instance, I resolved to save money by making my own cleaning products rather than buy them. I did this in June, and I haven't looked back. I resolve to put in an irrigation system before the next drought hits. I resolve to get the chicken run fixed before the next raccoon dinner party arrives. Enough ranting.
In December, my son Sean told me that he missed the fuss over holidays that we once had. And he is right. Before I took a public job I spent a great amount of effort on preparing the house and our meals for the next upcoming holiday celebration. The truth is that I just didn't have a great deal of time or the energy to bring forth the "holiday experience" that my children had grown accustomed to while they were growing up. Now that they are all grown or nearly so, and I no longer work outside the home. I feel that the time is ripe for returning to our traditional roots.
I prepared a traditional Southern New Year's Day meal, which consisted of fried ham, black eye peas, greens, and corn bread. As we sat around the table, we discussed the lore surrounding the meal and why we eat these particular foods on the first day of the new year. According to our family's tradition the fried ham represents wealth and abundance, for history tells us that ham wasn't always easy to come by and usually only the wealthier families could afford a nice smoked ham. We eat the greens because they represent green back dollars, the black eye peas represent coins, and the corn bread represents gold. All in all, the wish for the new year was that a family would have all that they desired and not have to worry about money issues.
While sitting together, all of us around that small table, we chatted about the olden days, about our grandparents, about what we wanted to see in the coming year, but no one resolved to do anything other than what we had to do in the course of living. There was no talk of treadmills or gym memberships; no one planning to solve the world's problems or look for a new job. Our chatter was about the future of the homestead. We were quite content to talk about the upcoming garden that we will plant in the springtime, the gift certificate that we gave my mom for chicks, and the new ewe we would soon be buying for Christopher's father. We sat full and comfortable, sharing and laughing together around a finely set table of simple foods. (A new beginning of our family's traditions.)
As for the tradition of making New Year's resolutions, we have an unspoken understanding that the world can be a disappointing place on its own without the extra baggage of lofty goals that are oftentimes unfulfilled. Who needs to add insult to injury. It is far more enjoyable knowing that somethings must be done, and then doing them. We don't need any pretense or ceremony surrounding homestead goals. We know that we must finish our house before we can move into it. We are moving steadily in that direction and doing this as we can afford to. Where is the joy in falling short if we can't meet a goal of doing it this year? I feel that we will finish that project when time and money allows. It may be this year or it may be the next. I don't want to suck the fun out of the process by trying to meet an unrealistic plan set forth by a resolution at the beginning of the year. It will happen when it happens. We will not rush the process, nor break the bank trying to meet an unrealistic goal. We will not sink up to our chest in debt to make it happen. We will take each day as it comes and deal with whatever that day should bring. We resolve daily to enjoy our home, our family, and our future plans for the homestead. As for New Year's resolutions, we resolve to have none of it.
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| Traveling at the speed of life. |
