This year I threw out the idea of writing my yearly resolution(s). While declarations and promises are fine and dandy and have even served me well in the past, I simply didn't have the energy for it this year. I could blame it on the flu that plagued me, but more honestly my heart just wasn't in it. Normally I savor my yearly reflection on past and projection into future, so this was definitely new. Partly I suppose the word "resolution" has almost become a dirty word for me around this time of year. Media hypes New Year resolutions so much that dieting and exercise almost become the assumption. In retaliation, I used to make my goals anything besides health and fitness. Still, my

I'm pet-sitting over the holidays, which means I am in a house with a lot more tv channels than I'm accustomed to. While flipping through the endless options this weekend I came across a program talking about the origins of varied holiday traditions that abound. While I've pondered the meaning behind some of my own automatic traditions before, this show offered history and reasoning I'd never heard before. One of my favorite traditions is decorating an evergreen tree and making a holiday wreath for the front door. The historical interpretation I find most connection to is that of hope for spring and a new year, shown by the tree's green life surviving through winter. We also burn