We're more than a week into the new year now and if you made resolutions (I don't), you might have already broken them. You might, also, have stuck them out so far. There is, of course, the usual weight loss resolution that sees gyms fill up beyond capacity these first few weeks of the year. And while I want to lose weight (again), I never make it a resolution. Bookish people like me like to set forth the idea that they will read more in the coming year or wider diversity or, or, or. Again, I don't. This isn't to say that I am complacent or unaffected by the change of date. Because I am. I think there must be something in our very souls that thrills to specific, outside of ourselves, starting points. And I am not immune to that thrill at all. But rather than resolutions, I tend to find strange little projects that pique my interest and embark on those. So far this year, I have turned all of the hangers in my closet backwards so that I can figure out which clothes I actually wear during the year and donate the rest. It's a delayed closet purge. I've organized all of the recipes I've torn out of magazine to try over the years. I grabbed folders that were still in decent shape after my children finished with them for school, labeled them with categories that work for me, and filed all untried recipes accordingly. I took a toothpick and ran it under the rim of my stove where all sorts of tiny crumby cooking detritus manages to fester throughout the year. (I don't necessarily recommend this gross option, by the way.). I have other mini projects like this that I'd love to accomplish before the motivation of the first leaves me (and it will). One of those is to finish rearranging my bookshelves so that all of the books I've bought over the past year will fit in. I'm not holding out much hope though. That's okay though. In the meantime, I'll just read.
This week my reading journey took me to Haiti with a kidnapped woman, to the English Lake District with three women who are struggling with love in their lives, to the guest room in a character's parents house after her husband leaves her, and to Regency London where a meddling next door neighbor and her mangy cat pull a reclusive former soldier out of the self-imposed prison he's created. I'm also visiting Chartres with a woman who cleans the cathedral and becomes indispensable to several of the people around the area and Lowell, Massachusetts with factory girls. Where have your reading journeys taken you this past week?
You don't need resolutions if you still set goals anyway!
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