The fag end of the year. It’s the time when some of us sit down and have a think about what we might do in the coming twelve months. Perhaps trips away, getting things done round the house, getting more exercise or losing weight.

Yes, I’ve thought about all of those. They’re most unlikely to come to pass.

My next door neighbour does need some mild exercise, according to her doctor, so I suggested we start a daily walking club. The post box at the end of the estate and back for starters. It might be fun to walk with someone else instead of just the voices in my head for company. I expect it’ll last until the first day when rain/sleet/snow is heaving down, and then we’ll forget to start again.

I know someone contemplating a daily photography challenge. 2024 is a leap year, so that would be 366 photos. I did a 366 in 2012 – wow! A dozen years ago! It doesn’t seem so long. It was a slog, and in order for me to keep going and even have a chance at taking a daily photo I chose a subject I could guarantee to occur almost every day – my breakfast! I’m still pleased with the result, but I don’t think I can do another.

At the start of 2020 I decided I’d like to do a sort of weekly audio diary. It wouldn’t contain speech, but just representative ambient sounds of the things I did during each week. I was doing quite well – link to the YouTube playlist – until a medical issue knocked me sideways, and a pandemic meant we were all stuck indoors. That killed the project stone dead. Perhaps I could try that again? I don’t know.

The truth is I don’t know what to expect from the coming year. Best Beloved is poorly, and his health issues are effectively making any prospect of travelling impossible. Like the early part of 2020, I find my world contracting, and distant horizons are getting further away. 

Whatever you do, or have planned for, the coming year, I wish you the best of luck.