2008 New Year Resolutions: Feeling Like A King

Today I am feeling like Janus, the mythical king of early Rome who could look back on past events and forward to the future at the same time. As a genealogist and historian, I spend a great deal of time with the first activity– looking back to past events and the people who created them. 

Now comes the tricky part–looking ahead in time, and making a list of resolutions. Thoughts that plague me: what the heck are resolutions anyway? (no one provides a guide book on how to create them); and why might I want to single out one behavior over another for change?

The most frequently selected new year resolutions appear to be: 1) Spend more time with family and friends; 2) Start or restart an exercise program and/or lose some weight, 3) Stop smoking; 4) Enjoy life more; 5) Stop drinking (alcohol); 6) Get out of debt or save money; 7) Take a class or course at a local college, museum or other educational facility; 8) Volunteer to help people or animals; 9) Organize or re-organize ones life, office, home, etc.

Although these resolutions are very noble, some simply don't fit into my lifestyle (as in #9 Organize…) or don't apply (as in #3 stop smoking or #6 get out of debt). Oh I admit to adopting some of these identical resolutions in the past, and mostly was not successful in their implementation.

And so in 2008 it is time to look at resolutions in a new way, and create a list that is practical, interesting, and easily attained. I challenge others to do the same.

**My Top Five 2008 New Year Resolutions**

1. I was impressed by an article that said blogging is having a detrimental effect on us by reducing verbal conversation. I'd like to change that. And so, I resolve to have meaningful conversations–with my computer tech guy, that two hundredth political telephone pollster, and my puppy.

2. Recently I was placed on a list of “Stately Women: Key Primary State Bloggers Worth Reading.”  I am truly honored. However, it made me realize that I've sometimes avoided writing political articles (if you discount my 2006 Halloween poem, and the article about Granny D). I therefore resolve to write more articles in 2008 about famous New Hampshire women in politics–all five of them. (Honestly, NH is still mostly a “Boy's Club”)

3.  I was raised to be a “Goody Two-Shoes.”  My parents, teachers and the other authority figures in my life believed I was a perfect little girl.  Thankfully when I was in my late twenties I participated in an effective assertiveness training course. The techniques I learned even made my mom cry, but made me feel better.  I resolve to say NO more frequently in 2008.

4. Cursing is more popular these days. It is practically impossible to visit a blog or message board without reading the word, um FORK. I blame HBO, primarily the series Deadwood, for making forking fashionable. After watching only a few episodes, my brain became numbed to the point I no longer thought it inappropriate (how did they do that?!?)  As a child I was taught two things about swearing: 1) Intelligent people use more elegant, protracted words to express themselves in difficult times; and 2) repeating specific  words in public would result in my burping soap bubbles for a week. I resolve to curse more in 2008.

5. Why do we ignore our teacher's advice  to avoid cliches?  As a matter of fact, newspapers are riddled with them. Reportedly in Britain (where the only English-speaking people on the planet live) “at the end of the day,” was the #1 most over-used cliche in newspapers and web sites between January and June 2006. I want to do my part to change that.  I resolve to create new, previously-unused sayings that should quickly become cliches.
 
A few that come to mind are:
   “good as gedcoms” instead of “good as gold”   
   “unconsummated marriage intentions” instead of “unrequited love”
   “contemplating non-progenitures” instead of “thinking outside of the box.”

Can you think of any? I'd give a King's ransom for one.

This blog article was written as my entry in the Carnival of Genealogy, 39th Edition, hosted by the ever animated Jasia at Creative Gene.

Janice

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The Season of Hospitality: 1840

CHRISTMAS, that season of hospitality, bluff and hearty honesty, open-heartedness and merriment is close at hand; the old year is preparing, like an ancient philosopher, to call his friends around him, and amidst the sound of feasting and revelry to pass gently and calmly away. Numerous indeed are the hearts to which Christmas brings a brief season of happiness and enjoyment.

How many families whose members have been dispersed and scattered far and wide, in the restless struggles of life, are then re-united, and meet once again in that happy state of companionship and mutual good-will which is a source of such pure and unalloyed delight…

Many of the hearts that then throbbed so gaily have ceased to beat; many of the looks that shown then so brightly, have ceased to glow; the hands we then grasped have grown cold; the eyes we sought have hid their lustre in the grave; and yet the old house, the room, the merry voices and the smiling faces, the jest, the laugh, the most minute and trivial, circumstances connected with those happy meetings, crowd upon our mind at each recurrence of the season, as if the last assemblage had been but yesterday—

Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days, that recall to the old man the pleasures of youth, and transport the sailor and traveler, thousands of miles away, back to his own fireside, and his quiet home.

From: “Dover Gazette & Strafford Advertiser,” (Dover NH) Tuesday, December 22, 1840; Issue 5; column F.

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Poem: "Merry Christmas," by Louisa M. Alcott

In the rush of early morning,
When the red burns through the gray,
And the wintry world lies waiting
For the glory of the day,
Then we hear a fitful rustling
Just without upon the stair
See two small white phantoms coming
Catch the gleam of sunny hair.

Are they Christmas fairies stealing
Rows of little socks to fill?
Are they angels gloating hither
With their message of good-will?
What sweet spell are these elves weaving,
As like larks they chirp and sing?
Are these palms of peace from heaven
That these lovely spirits bring?

Rosy feet upon the threshold,
Eager faces peering through
With the first red ray of sunshine,
Chanting cherubs come in view;
Mistletoe and gleaming holy
Symbols of a blessed day,
In their chubby hands they carry,
Streaming all along the way.

Well we know them, never weary
Of this innocent surprise;
Waiting, watching, listening always
With full hearts and tender eyes.
While our little household angels,
White and golden in the sun,
Greet us with the sweet old welcome,–
“Merry Christmas, every one!”

From: “Independent Statesman,” (Concord, NH) Thursday, December 23, 1875; Issue 13; column  A

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Thoughts On A Christmas Tree

One of the prettiest things that .Charles Dickens. wrote is this:

“I have been looking on, this evening, at a merry company of children assembled around that pretty German toy, a Christmas tree. The tree was planted in the middle of the great round table, and towered high above their heads. It was brilliantly lighted by a multitude of little tapers; and everywhere sparkled and glittered with bright objects.

There were rosy-cheeked dolls, hiding behind the green leaves; there were real watches (with movable hands, at least, and an endless capacity of being wound up) dangling from innumerable twigs; there were French polished tables, chairs, bedsteads, wardrobes, and eight-day clocks, and various other articles of domestic furniture (wonderfully made in tin, at Wolverhampton) perched among the boughs, as if in preparation for some fairy housekeeping; there were jolly, broad-faced little men, much more agreeable in appearance than many real men–and no wonder, for their heads took off, and showed them to be full of sugar-plums; there were fiddles and drums; there were tambourines, books, work-boxes, paint-boxes, sweetmeat-boxes, peep-show boxes, all kinds of boxes; there were trinkets for the elder girls, far brighter than any grown-up gold and jewels; there were baskets and pincushions in all devices; there were guns, swords and banners; there were witches standing in enchanted rings of pasteboard, to tell fortunes; there were tee-totums, humming-tops, needle-cases, pen-wipers, smelling-bottles; conversation cards, bouquet-holders; real fruit, made artificially dazzling with gold leaf; imitation apples, pears, and walnuts, crammed with surprises; in short, as a pretty child before me, delightfully whispered to another pretty child, her bosom friend, “There was everything, and more.”

This motley collection of odd objects, clustering on the tree like magic fruit, and flashing back the bright looks directed towards it from every side–some of the diamond eyes admiring it were hardly on a level with the table, and a few were languishing in timid wonder on the bosoms of pretty mothers, aunts, and nurses–made a lively realization of the fancies of childhood; and set me thinking how all the trees that grow and all the things that come into existence on the earth, have their wild adornments at that well-remembered time.

From ” Independent Statesman,” (Concord, NH) Thursday, December 23, 1875.

Janice

PS: This photograph is of my first Christmas.  I’m on the left, and my sister Kathi is on the right.  I still have the stuffed panda bear, albeit a bit worse for wear.  Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone!

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A German Christmas: 1833

Coleridge, the sweetest of living Poets, in his last interesting and philosophical work, “The Friend,” thus beautifully describes the custom of celebrating Christmas Eve in Germany, which, says he, greatly pleased and interested me.

“The children make little presents to their parents, and to each other, and the parents to their children. For three or four months before Christmas, the girls are all busy, and the boys save up their pocket-money to buy these presents. What the present is to be cautiously kept secret; and the girls have a world of contrivances to conceal it–such as working when they are out on visits, and the others are not with them–getting it up in the morning before day-light &c. Then, on the evening before Christmas-day, one of the parlors is lighted up by the children, into which the parents must not go; a great yew bough is fastened onto the table at a little distance from the wall, a multitude of little tapers are fixed in the bough, but not so as to burn it till they are nearly consumed, and colored paper, &c. hangs and flutters from the twigs. Under this bough the children lay out in great order the presents they mean for their parents, still concealing in their pockets what they intend for each other. Then the parents are introduced and each presents his little gift; they then bring out the remainder one by one, from their pockets, and present them with kisses and embraces.

Where I witnessed this scene there were eight or nine children, and the eldest daughter and mother wept aloud for joy and tenderness; and the tears ran down the face of the father, and he clasped all his children so tight to his breast, it seemed as if he did it to stifle his sob that was rising within. I was very much affected.–  The shadow of the bough and its appendages on the wall, and the arching over on the ceiling, made a pretty picture; and then the raptures of the very little ones, when at last the twigs and their needles began to take fire and snap–O it was a delight to them!  On the next day (Christmas-day) in the great parlor, the parents lay out on the table the presents for the children; a scene of more sober joy succeeds; as on the day, after an old custom, the mother says privately to each of her daughters, and the father to his sons, that which he has observed most praiseworthy and that which was most faulty in their conduct.”

From “New-Hampshire Statesman and State Journal, “(Concord, NH) Saturday, December 28, 1833; Issue 33; col A

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