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The Last Windrow: The year ahead

2019 opened with a hush at our house. The recent snowstorm put a heavy coating of white on everything in sight. The only noise you could hear during daylight hours on January 2 was the hum of snowblowers and snowplows shoving the white stuff from the middle of the highway. It was a comforting quiet time and midnight came and went with nary a whistle to be heard in our home.

This is the time of year that resolutions are made and one will see columnists submitting columns about how they intend to change their misspent lives and tread a higher path. Research has proven that most of these resolutions last about two hours after being made. That dessert that sits in the refrigerator calls to those with weak wills who have resolved to lose weight. The exercise bike sits in the basement collecting dust after a promise was made to build some human's inner core. Empty promises have been made.

I tried the resolution thing many times and I've basically determined that all that exercise did was depress me. I know what I should do, but most of the time I don't do it. It's just too easy to fall back into the ruts of my sordid past. A feeling of guilt usually follows and I've found that avoiding making a resolution actually improves my overall disposition. After resolving to eat less many times, my wife actually suggested that I might want to forfeit that notion as a way to improve my sulking mood. She does try to steer me to eat healthier meals and her gentle guidance sometimes works. Sometimes not.

There are things that I do intend to work on in the coming year. Notice I didn't say "resolve". That word seems to put more of a bit in my mouth than I care to have. "Things to work on" sounds better.

There will be less potato beetles in my potato field this year. I'm going to work on that. I have a plan to eradicate them and they will not chew my plants into the ground this year. The plan is so secret I can't divulge it at this time. Check back with me next September.

I will work on actually organizing my work bench so that I can find a tool without tearing apart half of the garage. My dad had no patience when it came to trying to locate a wrench or screwdriver that somehow I'd forgotten to place back where I found it. I must have plowed under a dozen high grade wrenches because I forgot to take the wrench off the tractor tire before I started plowing again and plowed the tool under. The tool was usually plowed up several years later, rusted and crusted . I've carried that misplacing trait to my own tool room and I'm going to work on that this year.

My fishing tackle box will become a model of organization. Instead of pulling petrified minnows and nightcrawlers out of the drawers, I will instead have all my tackle in it's proper place. There will be no tangled lines and my fishing lures will be sorted according to size and color. My reels will be oiled and greased to eliminate the sound of a fingernails on a chalkboard when I cast. The knots will be taken out of the anchor rope and my fillet knives will be honed to a fine edge. I will be working on these things as winter slugs on.

And so, I have things to work on. New Year's Eve came and went without a whimper at our house. We had a small lobster and a small piece of steak for our supper and a slice of my wife's succulent "baklava" for dessert. The ball fell in Times Square and people hugged, kissed and made resolutions. I miss Dick Clark. I drifted off to sleep before midnight just thinking of things I plan on working on this year.

At two in the morning I awoke and wondered if there was anymore "baklava" in the 'fridge? I'm working on that.

See you next time. Okay?