New Year Resolution Number Five

To write more stories: I wonder, will it go to the New Year Resolutions' Bin, along with the others? ...the chocolate, the early rising, daily yoga, neat admin?... Up in smoke already.

But as long as I don't let January trickle away, maybe there's some hope for this one - a weekly blog, that's all. Or shall we say fortnightly? Since I haven't yet figured out what to write, here's what I won't write:

One. I won't write about Copenhagen. The word alone produces that very particular wave of alarm and nausea that slams into your plexus when you realise that, say, you've triggered an avalanche with your carefree yodelling. Oh and you're in its path. Or when you're canoeing along a raging river and you glimpse the fallen tree trunk...

It can only get better, you may quip. Wrong, friends and Romans, it gets much worse, when for example you read comments on Copenhagen issued by that particular political and social abomination bred in the U.S., the Far Right Fellow. “Why” - this creature might at any point muse with moronic intensity - “should we reduce our emissions? Our emissions, our SUVs, our thousand Christmas lights, our MacDonalds, our commuter flights, our chemical fruit and veg and ham and spam – they're all our RIGHTS!” “There's no climate change, it's a conspiracy” - and here it will triumphantly conclude - “in order to increase our taxes!”

Wow. And if that's not blood-boiling, toe-curling, apoplexy-inducing enough, wait: the Far is bound to feel the need to tell us what he thinks about Evolution ('didn't happen, a conspiracy as well', blah. Note to self: can Evolution be turned into a tax issue? Or an election issue?) It has to be said, I have an problem with evolution myself, when such a specimen is allowed to appear and, in some habitats, thrive.

Two. I won't write about Avatar because I haven't seen it and – on purely phonetic grounds – I loathe the word. I made the mistake to share this with Kira, and now she chants A-Va-Tar-A-Va-Tar in the kitchen every time I cook and every time she's not singing THAT Katie Perry song.

Three. I won't write about THAT Katie Perry song.

Four. I won't write about Portugal while it's raining. The way it looks right now, Portugal won't get a mention for a long long time.

Five. I won't write about the dog going on heat TWICE in two months. What's she trying to prove? (note to self: can this have something to do with Evolution?)

Six. I won't write about the fact that it's raining in the children's bedroom, and all the walls are black. I don't care. We've all moved into the living room downstairs, where it's warm and where we can annoy each other much more effectively.

Seven. I won't write about that other little thing.

I know, apart from point seven, I've already written about all that stuff. There's more coming soon. Watch this space.