Our little family at the Ocean. . . a little trip to Manzanita last Saturday


So, it’s the New Year. Is your list of resolutions as long as mine? I figure I’ll wittle it down a bit and then maybe talk about it. This is a big year for me: turning 44 and that seems like a magical number. Worthy of big intentions and endeavoring.

But for now, I’m just hanging out with my little family, watching murder mysteries, and avoiding all the chores I should be doing.

Should is such an ugly word, anyhow.

But this much I will give you, I’m easily charmed. And I think, if I can remember that this year — or even be motivated by it, there is hope.

What I am not, at nearly 44, is a risk taker. Little things make me happy and change is not my friend. Not for the reasons you might think: I’m happy for things to be different. I’m just essentially lazy.  If you want to make it different, I’m down with that. If you want ME to make it different, I can’t hear you.

Example A: Any suggestion of moving, I immediately shudder and sputter: “I’m going to die in this house. In fact, I hate moving so much, they’ll bury me in the back-yard because it’s too much effort otherwise.”

This is not true, of course. I suspect a move is closer than even I can imagine. But, oh, how I hate the idea of packing. And that’s just one example.

My in-laws are in their late 70’s early 80’s and they are the epitome of change resistant. They’ve earned it. It’s not a criticism, but an observation. And a realization, that in my  mid-40’s I’m well on the road to saying, “Oh, that’s too much of a bother.”   Over the holidays, IZ and his sister were chatting via FaceTime and my FIL just waved his hand… it’s not for him.  I can identify, I feel the same way about cell phones. I practice that hand-wave, often.


So, I don’t know how I’ll cut down my list of to-do’s, must change, resolve to endeavor: but one thing is very clear to me. It’s time to face my fears and embrace this notion of change. This crazy idea of being connected to the outside world . 2014 may indeed be the year Wende gets a cell phone. (you should know I’m breaking out in a cold sweat just typing that sentence. Let’s just move, OK?!)

And no, I will not give you my phone number. I said I was easily charmed. Not stupid.