The Minnesota Farm Woman

I’ve been thinking all week about the inspirational story I was going to write to end a year of wins or losses (or a combination of the two) for many of us. Politics, disaster, and rock ‘n’ roll heaven are a few of the topics that came to my mind.  I should have known better. Any time I have a plan on what to write, it never quite works out that way. So as usual, it is what it is.  I have had few, if any, resolutions in the last couple of years, so I am going to make a couple of pathetic attempts to inspire others while at the same time improving myself:  I hereby resolve to put away the dishes every morning before I leave for work. This will be perhaps an inspiration or more like a hint for HIM to wash more dishes or to install a dishwasher in our tiny kitchen. I would certainly break this resolution by January 2 if I were to resolve to put them away every evening, because I tend to get distracted by the computer and TV and  then doze off like an old woman. Admittedly,  I AM an old woman, but it doesn’t help that  Barney the Chihuahua wakes me up every morning at four bells. I would like to work less, spend less, and save more. Maybe I will inspire the members of our Congress with that resolution, since they already have the first part down pat. I think that they are probably too busy counting their followers on Facebook or Twitter to keep up with the adventures of a Farm Woman from Minnesota, however.  I resolve to drink more water and less coffee. That one will hurt. I will spend more time on yoga and less time lying around with a Chihuahua in my lap. That one will hurt even more, and Barney agrees. I will spend more time gardening in less space. With HIM doing 99.9% of the work, my gigantic garden was dismantled in the fall and will be reborn in the spring as a small area of raised beds, allowing me to pull more weeds with less effort.  With all the work HE did, I should probably keep my mouth shut about the dishes. I will write more and watch less television, perhaps even changing the genre of my column and blog to one of political commentary and government affairs. Did you just snort? I was kidding. Really, I was. I like politics even less than I like cleaning out the chicken coop during a heat wave in August.  I hope that 2017 brings all of us many more smiles and a lot less tension. I resolve to do my best to help with that once my caffeine headache goes away and I figure out how to do yoga without looking like a twisted up sourdough pretzel. Happy New Year!