Every December 31, usually about 11:30 p.m. when hubby is sawing logs in his La-Z-Boy and I’m left alone (or with Dick Clark before his stroke) to usher in the New Year, I start thinking about my new year’s resolutions.

I really despise making resolutions, especially since they’re usually all broken by January 10, but for some reason I find myself making up a new list every year, knowing full well there’s a better chance of Larry Campbell leaving Lincolnton than there is of my keeping any promise of mine in the self-improvement department.

So, for what it’s worth (nothing) and hopefully for your enjoyment I’ll jot down a few pipedreams of mine.

Gain five pounds. Why not start with something I’m certain I can pull off?

Clean out my basement. It’s high time the 8-tracks went, along with my ’65 prom dress and every dried flower I’ve saved since kindergarten.

Care less about what people think of me. I’m way ahead on this one. When I turned 50 I stopped following any rules of etiquette but my own. If you don’t like me, what I say or who I am then as far as I’m concerned you have simply ceased to be.

I promise never to embarrass my husband again by wearing cheap clothes, cologne, or jewelry. I love him way too much for that.

I resolve never to cook again and get hot and sweaty in the kitchen so I can look my best when he comes home. This has worked well for some time now.

Write a book. This could be the year. Need a title though. “I’m Okay. You’re Not, Never Have Been, and Never Will Be” is a possibility.

Get out of debt. In reality, this means to help hubby get out of debt. I have done my part in getting us in so it’s high time I chipped in a little on getting out.

Get a job. See above resolution.

Learn something new. Tap dancing comes to mind, or maybe roller blading. Start drinking. Water. Lots of water. I hate the stuff so pray for me on this one.

To get more sleep. Or at the very least, to stay in the bed all night without jumping up and down every thirty minutes. And this is without drinking water.

To stop worrying about my children. I’ll start with one-minute increments and go from there.

Exercise. I’ll start with oneminute increments and go from there.

Eat more vegetables. Peanuts are vegetables, right?

Balance my checkbook. On my nose.

I will assume full responsibility for my actions. Except the ones that are someone else’s fault.

I will no longer waste my time reliving the past. I will spend it worrying about the future.

Don’t start smoking. Again, way ahead on this one since I don’t nor ever have smoked.

Watch more TV. I enjoy it and I’m not so snobbish that I’m ashamed to admit it.

Read my Bible more. Will benefit me greatly, and thus all those around me, too.

Use my good china. It will not sit another day in the cabinet collecting dust. We will eat hamburgers off the plates and drink diet cokes from the crystal.

Go to bed with my makeup on. At this stage in my life all my wrinkles have homesteaded anyway, hubby has seen me at my worst, and I’m too tired at night for facial rituals.

Spend more time with family. This may call for out-of-town visits so; relatives beware…and leave the light on for me.

Be more open in showing affection to others. So in lieu of a couple of hundred hugs let me say, dear hearts, I love you all; even those who don’t love me back.

Have a fantastic new year and just do the best you can with your resolutions. If you don’t master them all, carry some over until next year. Shoot, I’ve been toting some since 1962!