The first-foot is supposed to set the luck for the rest of the year, so it is important that a suitable person does the job. A tall, handsome, and dark-haired man bearing a gift is strongly preferred. According to popular folklore, a man with dark hair was welcomed because he was assumed to be a fellow Scotsman; a blond or red-haired stranger was assumed to be an unwelcome Norseman.
So, I'm looking for a tall, dark, handsome stranger. A man from my acquaintance would, of course, qualify, but there aren't any such in my circles (which is a crying shame, actually). If you know any potential good-luck candidates, let me know. I'll bake cookies. If he is fond of shoveling snow, I'll wash your dishes for a year.
But I had adamantly determined that there were to be no New Year's Resolutions this year (that saving-lists concept that I mentioned in an earlier post? it lasted about three days, until the desk was cleaned and the piles of lists consigned to the recycling bin), excepting the decision to finally get a pedicure.
Demonstrating my stunning ability to both make decisions and change my mind, I now have a formal list of 2008 resolutions. If they are submitted to the General Public (that would be you), there is a chance -- a slight chance -- that they will be successful beyond measure, as opposed to my now ten-year-old resolution (some people's children are younger) to learn how to sail.
Ambitions, long term, formalize
Artist's books, produce
Ceaseless whining, cease
Savings account, accrue
Writing group, continue
reading The Economist end-o-year double-issue (thanks for the renewal!)
weather eight inches of snow -- eight!