Hard to believe another new year is already upon us. Naturally, this is the time when one should be resolute and therefore make resolutions.
Since I kept none of mine from last year, which just happened to be the same ones I've been making for the last 37 years, I think I'll save myself the trouble and just accept the fact that I am a creature of habit. . .bad habits, I might add.
Television presented many "year in review" shows last week. Time goes by so quickly, and at my age, the years start to just meld together, so I'm taking the time now to look at my own year in review before I forget what 2013 was like.
I believe 2013 was a relatively good year. I cruised down the Danube River and didn't get seasick. I spent a weekend on a houseboat. . .and did.
It was the year that I lost 35 pounds for my daughter's wedding. It was also the year that I then promptly gained 37 back within a matter of days, thanks to a hardcore diet of Entenmanns Variety pack doughnuts and a few gallons of milk.
It was the year that we made progress on cataloging and collecting new photos and items at our Whiting-Robertsdale Historical Society museum.
It was the year we painstakingly repainted all the gingerbread on our front porch and questioned why we didn't just go plastic.
In 2013, I actually found all the Christmas presents that I had bought throughout the year in time to give them. I also learned how to make those wonderful photo books online, just like a pro.
I learned that not everyone shares my bizarre sense of humor displayed in this column, but I also received many wonderful emails from people who took time out of their busy lives to share with me their own personal stories about their trees, their favorite chairs and their own family histories.
The year 2013 was when I sang with the 119th Street Carolers again and realized that singing for four hours straight takes an incredible amount of stamina. It was also the year I realized I don't have that stamina anymore, so luckily it's my year to sign up for Medicare.
In 2013, I rediscovered my coconut halves on a string from the Chicago premiere of "Spamalot" that have been missing since 2004. Clapping them together makes the sound of horse hooves. Their discovery must have been a gift from St. Genesius, because I found them just in time for the Marian Theatre Guild's production of the show.
This was the year I cleaned out the front closet and put bars of soap under the sheets to avoid leg cramps. It was the year I discovered that my cell phone still does me little good when it's in the bathroom at home and I'm stranded on the road .
I made a few new friends in 2013, but unfortunately saw the passing of many that I loved and admired.
There are 8,736 hours in 2014. May we discover this time next year that we made each one of them memorable. Happy New Year!