Why did I say I’d do that? What was I thinking?
Angelkeep resolutions created in 2021 had long been designated to the compost pile. From there they seem to sprout again in 2022 wafting over the earthly smelling pile of humus from rotting vegetation intended to enhance a future flower or veggie bed. The old nourishes the new and often with some spectacular results. That’s the natural, nature’s way of perpetuation.
Humans have the capacity to involve self-intellect. Thought before action, make a plan. That’s the basis for New Year’s resolutions. Of course that should involve some self-intellect well ahead of the New Year’s Eve celebratory bad food over-eating and glass upon glass of sparkling white grape bubbly. But that’s not reality, right? At least not Angelkeep reality.
“I will strictly stick to the diet the first week of 2022 and loose five pounds of the fat gained from the festive food intake from 2021 Halloween candy to 2022 New Year’s Day chip and cheese dip.”
Oh well. It was the number one Angelkeep resolution, so why should it not be the first abandoned and unsuccessful Angelkeep New Year’s resolution? New Year’s Eve resolutions should come with an extended warranty, a jump-ahead sell-by date, or an added incentive period.
It was like the dropped cookie on New Year’s Eve, you know, the five-second rule. Pick it up within five seconds, blow off offending floor lint, and it was good-to-go. Angelkeep was told, although it had not been “fact checked” online, that “2022 incentive regulations” included a change in the five-second rule, jumping it to a thirty-second rule due to COVID-19 continuation.
Time will tell if other Angelkeep resolutions will pan out, or appropriated to the compost shredder. For instance that resolution determination garnered while devouring the third sandwich spread on fresh white bread. That had always been an Angelkeep New Year’s Day standard. Not ham salad, but something like it made from ground bologna, not ham, mixed with relish and spread, not mayonnaise. Sandwich spread was the poor boy’s ham salad made by Mom and placed out for a full New Year’s Day of grazing, back in the day. It was liked and remembered, thus to Angelkeep better than the pricier alternative. Kroger makes it in their deli. Mr. Kroger must have had a mom like an Angelkeep mom.
Oops, I diverged, another New Year’s Day resolution down the drain.
I was pointing out the tomato bed resolution, conversion to extended flowering perennial plants. The past couple of years the tomato crop cost more to plant that what was harvested. The work and the cost do not equal any savings from buying tomatoes from Walmart. Better yet, the best tomatoes eaten last season came from the local farm market. But only time will tell, come spring, if the farm boy of Angelkeep can stick to the plan of growing blooms. It would mean no more plucking a tomato off the vine and immediately taking a big bite right there under God’s sunshine. That would be hard to give up.
Angelkeep made another resolution in late fall when the season advanced more rapidly than the body could keep up with the deforestation labors. Several ash were already showing signs of emerald ash attack, those trees growing near the house, thus a dead ash becoming a threat to house and home. A fast decision was made to top the trees. Cutting twelve feet off the ground was a faster way to stop growth, but left the hard-to-cut trunks to deal with at a future time. The new time was 2022, and a resolve made to finish the task in spring with the air warmer. How many seasons could a resolution be advanced? If the trunks were removed in summer, would that New Year’s resolution be a success, or failure? Reality posed the query, what about an autumn tree removal?
Procrastination is a powerful Angelkeep resolution commodity.
Angelkeep was gifted a fancy power washer. Angelkeep’s abode was due for a good power wash, not having its first full scrub for over two decades. There were places, like behind the ears, that really needed a power wash. That was a 2021 Angelkeep resolution. It repeated in 2022 because the 2020-gifted power washer yet sat on the garage floor in its FedEx delivery box. Or was it UPS?
“Gwen, I just found a new tub of double vanilla ice cream in the freezer under the frozen veggies. I’ll start that New Year’s Day resolution diet plan next week. Yes, next week for sure. I’m greatly resolved on that. We’re gonna have a good diet then, Gwen, we’re gonna have a good diet then.”
The cat’s in the cradle.
Mr. Daugherty is a Wells County resident who, along with his wife Gwen, enjoy their backyard and have named it “Angelkeep.”
