The year of the flying pig


I always enjoy looking at the calendar and my diary at this time of the year – all those days with nothing planned, all those weeks with no claims on them, so much time with which I could accomplish so much.


Looking ahead from here before the squares on the calendar are scribbled over and the pages of the diary are filled with things to do, places to go and people to see, almost anything seems possible.


This could the year when I do at least some of those things I have been wanting to do but have not yet done.


This could be the year when I stop doing at least some of the things I ought to stop doing but don’t.


This could be the year when I do what I have to do before I have to do it; when I regard all challenges as opportunities rather than crises; when I keep problems in perspective; when I remember to take a deep breath and think before I react; when I respond with both my head and my heart and when I retain my sense of humour regardless of the provocation to lose it.


This could be the year of the new, improved, better and brighter me – and this could be the year that pigs start flying.

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