New Year Resolutions
January 9, 2013 § 1 Comment
I am a tad skeptical about New Year resolutions. Largely because, at least from personal experience, they are quickly forgotten and failed.
However, that reality is not stopping me from making a few resolutions this year.
I like to call the following my Book Resolutions of 2013.
Or, the Make-me-smarter Resolutions.
Or, For-goodness-sake-read-something-other-than-children’s-literature Resolutions.
Like I’m ever going to stop reading children’s books.
Okay, here they are:
- A poem a day: I have never really liked poetry, but I want to start. I am starting the year out with Dorothy Parker (love her), Robert Frost, G.K. Chesterton, and…I’d love your advice for more. Help a girl out!
- One classic. Only one? Well, I have a baby, a husband, a dog, and a typically long list of current children and young adult books to read. I figure if I have a goal to read one classic this year it will probably get done. Right? I am thinking Les Miserables because of the movie (I need/want to see it!), and I already own it. But, I am open to suggestions here as well. If you have a classic you think I MUST read, tell me!
Every once in awhile I’ll post the poem of the day so you can benefit from this resolution as well. In fact, I’m going to do that right now.
For your reading pleasure, here is Dorothy Parker in all her glory…
The bird that feeds from off my palm
Is sleek, affectionate, and calm,
But double, to me, is worth the thrush
A-flickering in the elder-bush.
That one was for Forrest. :)
Here is another:
for a New Mother
The things she knew, let her forget again –
The voices in the sky, the fear, the cold,
The gaping shepherds, and the queer old men
Piling their clumsy gifts of foreign gold.
Let her have laughter with her little one;
Teach her the endless, tuneless songs to sing,
Grant her her right to whisper to her son
The foolish names one dare not call a king.
Keep from her dreams the rumble of a crowd,
The smell of rough-cut wood, the trail of red,
The thick and chilly whiteness of the shroud
That wraps the strange new body of the dead.
Ah, let her go, kind Lord, where mothers go
And boast his pretty words and ways, and plan
The proud and happy years that they shall know
Together, when her son is grown a man.
When I read that poem the first time I read it as a new mother myself, but when I read it a second time I realized who it is really written for/about. Wow.
PS: What are your resolutions?