According to the calendar in my kitchen, a new year starts in two days. Like many Americans, I’m tempted to create a New Year’s Resolutions list and fill it with at least a dozen lofty ambitions to make the new year creative and productive.

Not this year.

That sheet of paper makes me feel guilty, overworked and a slave to a grandiose list. Granted, they’re promises that are good for me — lose weight, keep a cleaner desk, exercise more and generally improve my life.

But because I lose the list by Valentine’s Day, have gained weight by April Fool’s Day, piled a mountain of papers on my desk by July 4, hidden my tennis shoes under a mound of dirty clothes by Halloween and gained even more weight by Thanksgiving, I realized my list serves no useful purpose.

So instead of resolutions, I decided to spend my energy in a different direction — reflection, not empty promises.

Family. I’ve got a great family, both at work and personally. There are a few crazies in both places, but that’s what makes life so special. Who wants a world where we all fit into that same cookie-cutter mold? The crazies remind us to take a look inside and see if we’re the nutty ones, not the other way around.

Electronics. Although I don’t understand how they work, nor can I figure out how to save a phone number in my cell phone, electronics are pretty fascinating, especially the Internet. I’d love to learn how to navigate and explore the online world and I’m thrilled so much knowledge is available with the click of a mouse button.

Escape. Although I try and stay productive, there are times I simply want to escape for an hour or two. Reading inane posts on Facebook and simply wandering around the Internet are interesting ways to pretend I have amnesia about the pile of work on my desk.

Reading. I’m not sure who introduced me to books, but whoever did, thank you. All my life, I’ve surrounded myself with everything from fiction to non-fiction, and now I’m entering the world of electronic reading. The written word has comforted me, kept me company and illuminated my life.

Klutziness. Not just an occasional trip or bumping my elbow against a corner. I’m talking trip-over-my-own-two-feet clumsy, the kind where people quietly move fragile objects away from me. But because I’m clumsy, I appreciate seeing grace in action — my granddaughter perfecting her ballerina moves, a leaf slowly falling from a tree and a heron taking flight over the lake.

My car. I’ve driven cars where the brakes failed, wouldn’t start on cold mornings and barely passed the state inspection test, but my car represents freedom. That sedan in the driveway allows me to explore back roads with my camera, visit family and friends and have a safe place to sing at the top of my lungs.

Forgiveness. I’m lucky I’m surrounded by wonderfully kind people who forgive my thoughtlessness, listen to my “did I ever tell you” stories over and over again and pretend to have amnesia when I do something really stupid, which is every single day.

Reflection. When I look back instead of forward, I realize I’ve got a lot to be thankful for and that, not a list of lofty resolutions I’ll never fulfill, is what fuels my optimism for the coming year.

Here’s hoping your 2011 is a year of appreciation for the mundane minutes, not just the memorable ones.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

This article was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.

To put myself in a holly, jolly holiday spirit, I attended a live Christmas concert. The singing was fabulous, and the choir sang all my favorites from yesteryear and today.

Many years ago, the only way to hear holiday songs was to go to church or a live concert. Then came home record players, and we could hear Johnny Mathis or Perry Como singing any time we wanted. A few years later, eight-tracks, cassette tapes and CD’s allowed us to have our own playlists in our vehicles.

Now we can type “Christmas music” into our computer’s search engine, save them as MP3’s and listen to Christmas music in July if we want.

No matter the month, the holiday classics remain my favorites, especially one of the most beautiful voices ever recorded, Nat King Cole, singing “The Christmas Song.” Karen Carpenter’s “Merry Christmas, Darling” makes me tear up every time I hear it, just as Josh Groban’s soothing voice gives me chills on “O Holy Night.”

Like it or not, rock, country music and rap stars are notorious for changing the melody on Christmas songs. Kurtis Blow’s classic Christmas rap is quite catchy, Eartha Kitt purrs on “Santa, Baby” and Christmas just isn’t complete without hearing Elvis whoo-hooing “Blue Christmas.”

Hearing all these holiday songs, and the way artists put their own spin on these timeless tunes, motivated me to massage some of the words to “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” So to all you tired and frazzled moms out there, here’s a parody for us:

On the first day of Christmas, my mommy duties called to me: A to-do list as long as my arm.

On the second day of Christmas, my granddaughter asked of me: Two impossible-to-find Little Tykes toys.

On the third day of Christmas, the crowded mall frustrated me: Three open cashiers and no change in the register.

On the fourth day of Christmas, the Post Office offered me: Long lines for the four packages I had to mail.

On the fifth day of Christmas, the newspaper promised me: Five early-bird, 80 percent-off coupons.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my tired feet whined to me: Only six parking spaces left in the entire mall parking lot.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my trash can called to me: Seven, oops no eight, ornaments broken while decorating the tree.

On the eighth day of Christmas, I slapped myself in the head: Eight inches of Scotch tape left on the dispenser at 11 p.m.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my mail carrier glared at me: Nine catalogs stuffed in my mailbox.

On the 10th day of Christmas, my answering machine blared at me: Ten telephone messages from holiday telemarketers.

On the 11th day of Christmas, my pantry reminded me: Eleven half-filled bottles of sprinkles on the top shelf.

On the 12th Day of Christmas, my exhausted inner voice sighed to me: Twelve minutes to actually sit and enjoy the decorated tree, 11 people in front of me in the grocery store, 10 burnt-out Christmas lights, nine missing gift receipts, eight more boxes to wrap, seven children fighting, six pounds of fudge, five stockings to stuff, four light plugs in one extension cord, three a.m. and a bike to assemble, two exhausted parents and a mommy looking forward to December 26.

Come on, Nat, throw some chestnuts on that fire for me. Christmas is here, the Savior is born and, despite all the hustle and bustle of the season, my blessings overflow.

Merry Christmas.

This article was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.

I am such an Andy and Barney fan! I always think of my sisters, Diane and Donna, when I watch an episode. And whenever I’m giving out rules, I think of Barney’s two rules here at “the rock!”

When we were young mothers, my sisters and I often discussed discipline. We debated the pros and cons of spanking, time out and other methods of teaching our children right from wrong.
One of us usually ended the long discussion with two words that perfectly summed up what we were trying to accomplish: “Nip it.”

That phrase comes from our favorite television program, “The Andy Griffith Show.” My sisters and I are huge fans of the show, so much that we have DVD’s of all the seasons and coffee mugs from Weaver’s Department Store, the online site where fans of the show can order merchandise.

This year marks the 50th anniversary of TAGS. The show debuted in 1960 and ran for eight seasons, winning six Emmys along the way. It currently accounts for more than half of the viewers on Hulu, an on-line film and TV show site, and reruns on TV-Land are some of its most popular programming.

For those who’ve never seen the program, Andy Taylor is the likeable sheriff serving his small community in Mayberry, North Carolina. He’s also a widow and the father of red-headed Opie. Faithful Aunt Bee takes care of Opie, just as she did Andy when he was a young boy.

Andy’s aided in his official duties by his deputy, the inept Barney Fife, who’s also his cousin and best friend. Other townspeople include Floyd the barber, Gomer and Goober, two not-so-bright cousins who work at Wally’s Filling Station and many others.

Although the characters on TAGS are the ones we hold dear, it’s the stories on the show that continue to resonate with strong messages about life, families and what’s important in life.

I especially love the black-and-white era of the show, and those early episodes could be used for parenting and life classes.

One of the best episodes about life is “Opie and the Bully.” When Andy discovers Opie is asking all the adults in his life for a nickel for milk, Andy realizes something’s not right.

Barney finds out a bully is taking Opie’s money on the way to school, and the deputy wants to straighten things out for Opie, much as our “helicopter parents” do today. But Andy holds his ground and finds a way for Opie to take care of the bully himself.

Lesson learned: Parents, we sometimes have to step back and let our children handle their own lives, no matter how tough it may be to watch them cross that turbulent stream.

In Season 3, Opie keeps talking about Mr. McBeevee, a man he met in the woods who walks in the trees. Because Opie has a wild imagination, nobody believes he sees a man with a silver hat that jingles.

Andy finally has to make a choice to either believe Opie or not. Andy decides he doesn’t believe in Mr. McBeevee, but he does believe in his son.

Lesson learned: Sometimes, we have to take a leap in faith and believe, even when it doesn’t seem possible to accept the unseen and unproven.

That lesson is especially important during this holiday season. Common sense tells us there’s no such thing as a jolly old elf that lives in the North Pole, but we can believe in the spirit of Christmas, especially when we see the generosity of people as they collect food for the hungry, donate gifts, toys and clothing for those in need and open their hearts to people who need a bit of extra love and compassion during the holidays.

And for those times when we feel our spirits sinking and start thinking the world is filled only with grinches and meanies, remember the wise words of Deputy Barney Fife — Nip it. Just nip it in the bud.

This article was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.

When I was 19, I bought my first grown-up camera. I remember driving around, snapping pictures of flowers and buildings. My blurry Pentax photos far outweighed the ones in focus, but each photo reminded me of something I enjoyed seeing at the time.

Many years later, I still enjoy taking pictures, and digital photography makes the hobby a lot more affordable. Looking at some of my favorite pictures years later always brings a smile to my face, even if they’re not the best quality.

After days of gray, cold weather, I’d had enough of staying cooped up, so my husband and I headed out to Brazos Bend State Park. I had my camera in hand, and my husband laced up his hiking shoes.

I’ve visited the park many times over the years, the scariest as a Cub Scout leader leading 10 boys on a hike and coming across a hefty 10-foot alligator sunning himself on the trail.

Our first stop was 40-Acre Lake, and there were quite a few visitors enjoying the day. Children were laughing and romping on the playground, and their parents were sitting at nearby picnic tables, talking and watching the kids play.

We headed out on the trail and found peace and quiet. There’s the natural sounds of ducks quacking and tree frogs croaking, but those are reassuring sounds and, I realized, quite a change from the city noise I’ve almost grown immune to hearing.

We walked out on the pier, and I marveled at how huge the Texas sky seemed overhead and how alive the lake seemed, teeming with plants, butterflies, birds and dragonflies.

As far as the eye could see, an almost neon-green carpet of duck weed floated on the top of the water, creating gentle circles around the mottled lily pads, a Monet painting unfolding right in front of our eyes.

Returning to the trail, we strolled quietly, pausing to watch a snowy white egret standing in the blue-black waters and chuckling as we passed noisy ducks rambling around in the reeds. We rounded another corner, and a huge alligator was slumbering on the path.

We took a wide berth around that fellow, tiptoeing past a few summer daisies hanging on to the last bits of warm weather. Half way around the lake, we sat underneath a shade tree for a long time, quietly taking in the view.

There’s a serenity and calm about the outdoors, and Brazos Bend is an outstanding place to re-energize your soul and connect with nature, something easily overlooked in a society where we’re constantly bombarded with noise.

On the way out, we spotted a sign for the park’s “A Simple Christmas” celebration this coming Saturday. Park Ranger Sharon Hanzik said the event starts at noon Saturday and park guests can escape the rush and roar of city life and relax.

There’ll be hay rides, Dutch oven cooking demonstrations and people dressed as early Texas pioneers, spinning a Texas tall tale or two. Take a turn at roasting some marshmallows over an open fire and making gooey s’mores.

Youngsters will enjoy spreading peanut butter on pine cones and sprinkling them with bird seed to create back-yard bird feeders.

Then from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m., the Brazos River Pickers will entertain the guests, and these guitarists and strummers are fabulous. Admission to the park is $5 a person ages 13 and older, and children ages 12 and younger are admitted for free. Seniors can receive a discount.

Browsing through my photos that night, I felt relaxed and refreshed, and the pictures reminded me that sometimes simple is better than complicated. At least on an overcast Sunday afternoon taking a quiet and uncomplicated stroll around the lake.

This article, and some photos, were previously published in The Fort Bend Herald. To see more photos, visit my Facebook page.