I am a renowned New Year curmudgeon. Last night, just like most other New Years’ Eves, I shied away from the parties and the public ringings in of the New Year. I object to all that midnight hugging and kissing by people who I don’t want to be hugged or kissed by at any other time of the year. So I like to stay home, curled up warm and snug. Even the prospect of popping twelve grapes into my mouth at each gong of the midnight bell, while wearing red underwear outside the church in Sanlúcar, couldn’t entice me off the boat last night. (The red underwear leaves me with so many unanswered questions. I really must get to the bottom of it). Last night, I saw in the New Year with a good novel and a glass of red wine (Oops! There’s one of last year’s New Year Resolutions that fell by the wayside before the end of the first week of January 2016), Julian sleeping soundly in the aft cabin, the girls doing likewise in the fore cabin.
I’ve woken up on this New Year’s Day ready to face a new year, my resolutions firmly in place. I’ve been up three hours now and haven’t yet broken one of them. I’ve had time last night and this morning to reflect on all the good in my life at this very moment – my precious family, our quirky home, the beautiful place where we currently live, my health and my family’s health, our general well-being. Whatever I might resolve to change or improve or perfect (and there’s a lot), what I have right now requires no changing, improving or perfecting.
So, on this New Year’s Day I wish you all a peaceful, meaningful and reflective 2017. I wish you acceptance of what you have and who you are, acceptance of others, and acceptance that if we all have the power within us to make the world a better place.
Happy 2017, and hello to Jason Isaacs.