According to reliable sources, Seamus Heaney’s final words just before his death in 2013, texted to his wife, were noli timere – do not fear.
If I should have to try and spell out a new year's resolution, Looking forward to next year, I could do worse than
to bear these words in mind.
Because the more we fear, the more they
win. Right? But then another new year's resolution of mine is to always ask, who are they?
My dream resolutions, the ones I haven't yet properly examined but which the spirits and fairies and pixies of winter have been whispering into my ear: retireretireretire and see someone about that paralyzed right foot (as in get to walk properly again).
And while we're at it, the big one, the resolution of resolutions, is to only buy stuff we need, absolutely need. This is actually not very difficult now with R starting on his meagre pension next month. And seriously, we have everything we need. Stuff wise.
Other than that, I will let shit happen. I am 60 now, no need to get too excited.
New Year's eve was exceptionally mild, a weird spring day. We sat outside with our mugs of tea. We cycled without gloves. Today, it is cold again and that poor Meyer lemon is probably going to react badly to us moving it in and out and in and out. Right now, it's flowering and downstairs smells like Spain.
This was a week ago: