Make Me Good .... But Not Yet by Sheena Wilkinson

 Is anyone out there struggling with broken resolutions? Or are you all having great fun with Dry January, Veganuary, or any other form of abstemiousness? 

Sometimes January is like this...

Or are you, like me, eyeing up the last of the Quality Street and thinking, Well, if I just eat them then they’ll be gone and they can’t tempt me any more…? 

... but also like this

I am actually a great one for resolutions, and promises, and new beginnings. Although I thrive on routine, I also love change and self-improvement – or rather, I like the idea of self-improvement. I will do more yoga! I will eat less chocolate and more salad. 

it's hard to leave the stove

But I am also a realist. You have to do as things do with you, my granny used to say. This time last month I was preparing to go on a retreat, and at that retreat I wrote over 4,000 words a day – because it was easy to be productive; I had nothing else to worry about. Things did with me very well. When I got home, things did with me very differently: though I finished the book, as planned, by the end of the year, it was a struggle to carve out the time, in the middle of the holiday rush. 

a very clear picture of how things do differently with me on retreat and at home

So at the moment, things are doing with me nicely enough for the time of the year, but I’m not averaging thousands of words a day, or taking up a new hobby or reading improving works or learning a new language.  And that’s fine. 

It’s cold, and though the days are on the turn, you don’t always notice that when the countryside has been gripped by freezing fog for days, so everything looks grey. There is good stuff on TV. I have just discovered a Susan Scarlett novel I didn’t realise I hadn’t read, which has immediately bypassed the worthier stuff on my TBR pile and funnily enough seems to go particularly well with a blanket and a few Quality Street. And this morning, though I was meant to go to the gym at 9, I just couldn’t be bothered to spend ten minutes defrosting the car so the dogs and I went back to bed instead. 

beautiful but grey 

When the Romans measured the year in ten months, it started in March, with the days of deepest winter not assigned any particular month. Perhaps that accounts for the fact that January, while possessing only 31 days, always feels as though it lasts for about 67 and people often feel like hibernating. It’s a natural response. It makes sense to see March, the start of spring, as a better time for new beginnings. And even though there are 24 hours in each day, the days feel longer as we respond to more daylight and more sense of possibility. 

Daisy doesn't mind the wintry weather 

Of course I don’t intend to hibernate till March. For one thing, if I don’t get outdoors for a couple of hours every day I get very grumpy. For another, I have a book to submit this week, and then I’m excited about redrafting the one I worked on at the retreat. I have workshops booked into the diary, manuscripts to critique and student essays to mark. I’m actually quite a productive person. But I do intend to be gentle and realistic, at least until the Quality Street are all eaten. 

Stroller doesn't mind a bit of a snuggle by the stove