Resolute (2013 Edition)

Percy is clearly apprehensive about the New Year

...or the fact that I'm smothering him. Hard to say.

Yes, I am aware that we are now racing through March and spring is well on its way, but nevertheless I wanted to write down my New Year's resolutions. I mentally formed these a while ago, around New Year's, in fact! (Fancy that.) Last year I found it infinitely helpful to refer back to my resolutions post as a means of checking progress and motivating myself to continue toward set goals when I felt in a rut, and I'm keen to continue that in 2013.

In true nerd fashion, I adore making goals, any excuse to write up a list, etc. That extends to New Year's resolutions. I liked what Claire from The Captive Reader had to say about this increasingly controversial practice, that she saw no need to form resolutions since she's already perfectly happy. And to some extent, I agree. I am happy! Still, I am an individual excited and motivated by the idea of improvement, especially self-improvement. Setting out to make changes for the better thrills me to no end. 

Really, I truly believe they can be great for the majority of us. They gear us up for new experiences at a time when most of us are feeling like we could use a boost. (For the record, I blame holiday treat overload for this effect.) Provided an individual steers clear of resolutions one loathes yet feels inexplicably compelled to make -- this is when many a gym membership is compulsively purchased then just as swiftly forgotten -- I wholly endorse the practice. Hurrah for resolutions! 

First up are my reading resolutions...

Read 45 texts. Last year I fell just short of my goal to read 40 texts, so I'm being slightly optimistic here. I'm perfectly aware I might not achieve this at all. And that's okay. Having my goal in mind last year often served as a gentle reminder to put down the remote control and pick up a book. It spurred me on or kept me going when suffering through a reading drought or in the middle of a dud. I'm setting this resolution with the view that it will provide much needed encouragement whether I meet the ultimate goal or not.

Get back to the classics! Last year I wanted to spread my wings by veering into twentieth-century and contemporary literature, experience the literary world outside my little box. I did, and it was great!

Come December though, I wanted to go back to my roots. I missed my crazy Victorians! (They still accounted for nearly 25% of my 2012 reading, so the fact that I felt their absence says something quite worrying about my psyche, I think.) The eighteenth-century was virtually abandoned, and I want to incorporate those writers back into my reading habits as well. It was great moving away from my comfort zone, but this year I'd like to refocus on my chief interests -- and make some major progress on my Classics Club list while I'm at it. 

Poetry and drama. In 2012 I pinpointed several new genres I wanted to explore and had great success in some of these, especially nonfiction. While I did read some poetry and drama, these formats weren't delved into with the depth I would have liked, so I'm reiterating this goal for 2013. After receiving some gift cards for my October birthday, I picked up some new titles under these categories: The School for Scandal and the major works of John Keats among them. I have no excuse to neglect poetry and drama this year.

Children's classics. When I worked at a bookstore I took advantage of the employee discount by accumulating as many items as my meagre paycheck would allow, and I collected some great children's classics during this time. 

I haven't read any of them. 

It's time to stop making excuses and finally finish The Secret Garden despite any distractions. Time to open The Jungle Book. Treasure Island. Peter Pan. Multiple novels by Jules Verne. Simply typing out these titles whets my literary appetite. Why haven't I done this before?

Literary nonfiction. While I made great headway in this genre last year, there's still room for improvement. I have multiple author biographies sitting forlornly on my shelves, accounts of my beloved eras or their monarchs, etc. that call for my attention. I'm especially looking forward to Claire Tomalin's recent biography on Charles Dickens, another recent addition to my library.

And now for my general resolutions...

Take a photography class. I've gleefully been snap happy lately, and I'd like to learn how to use the fabulous camera I received for Christmas. I mean, I kinda, sorta know how to use it...but not really.

Get published. I set this goal last year and failed, but I'll keep plugging away at it. To be fair, I have spoken at three conferences in the past four months and was accepted to present at another this summer. Progress, slow but steady progress. 

Fill up my personal journal. Blogging is a fantastic way to document life and its experiences, but I still need to make time to express those private thoughts and feelings.

Make time for cultural activities that make me happy. I simply adore museums, theatre, and traveling. The stimulation they provide adds significantly to my happiness. Basically, if I'm mentally bored, I'm miserable. Yet I often make excuses about why I can never make time for these things: I'm too busy with work, I don't have the money right now, there's nothing good around at the moment, etc., etc., etc. 

Enough with the excuses! I need to make it a priority. Progress has already been made in this arena, particularly with my recent visits to the ballet. I'm looking forward to more of these experiences throughout the year. 

Organization/Stress Management. Guys, I'm posting my New Year's resolutions in mid-March which speaks volumes. Organization seems to be my Achilles' Heel. Despite my best efforts, I always seem to be frazzled, stressed, feeling like I'm eight tasks behind. If I can conjure up an organizational system that works for me and focus on remaining calm when under pressure, I'll be more at ease in every aspect of my life.

Be Kinder. This is a lifelong goal. While I consider myself to be a fairly nice person as it is, I think it's useful to always be mindful of how I treat others and aim to speak and act with kindness to everybody, especially those I love.

I'm sure you're all much more organized than I am and posted resolutions in January. How are they going so far?

Wordless Wednesday: A Percy Post

It's hard work being a chubby, cuddly dog of the manor

(especially when people rather rudely interrupt nap time)

but someone's gotta do it!

A Percy Post: Epistolary Musings

Dearest Friends,

My mother's absence had been going on for some time and, truth be told, I was growing accustomed to it.  Then lo and behold...she returneth!  I was idly lounging a matter of days ago, when she suddenly came through the door.  I was so overcome with excitement I could scarcely contain myself, and I daresay my tail wagged a great deal.  I felt it best to overlook her abandonment and welcome her back with open paws.

Since she has been restored to the estate, I find that we have once again fallen into our old routine.

I am back to my place on her lap.

I am cruelly forced to subsist on unsavoury kibble.

And I am still housed with the beagle.  I simply cannot comprehend it. 

Fortunately for her I am a forgiving chap, though I growl when displeased.

Sincerely Yours,

Sir Perceval P. Pup

A Percy Post: The Green-Eyed Monster

I have a firm conviction that this is the image Shakespeare had in his mind when he wrote of the green-eyed monster:

How could Iago have been thinking of anything but this Percy Beast when he said:

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;

It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock

The meat it feeds on.

I know I am most envious of those who have a puppy to curl up with tonight; monster or not. 

A Percy Post: Sunbathing

Percy says, 'A little sunbathing would set me up forever.' 

On this grey and gloomy day, during which I perform hard labour in the library, a little puppy sunshine perks me right up! 

Photos by Chelsea

P.S.  Percy stole Mrs. Bennet's line from Pride and Prejudice and then adapted it for his own purposes.  Or maybe I did that.  I'm so confused....

A Percy Post

As of late, my humans have made mention of a phenomenon they refer to as Skype.  Now and again, I find myself hauled up to the study where all the humans in my family gather round a moving screen. The most astonishing thing then occurs: I suddenly hear the voice of my mother emanating from its general direction.  She calls to me in her most pathetic tones and inquires if I am 'being a good boy'.  Humph!  Am I ever less than a gentleman?  However, if she believes I will condescend to respond to her exclamations after heartlessly forsaking me, she is sorely mistaken.  Am I wrong, dear reader, in feeling slighted by this abandonment?  I cannot believe that I am.  Therefore, I shall continue to toss my head from side to side and feign deafness.  

 Attacking his beloved toy: The Cuz

Photo by Chelsea

A note from the puppy parent:

I am currently reading Virginia Woolf's semi-fictional, semi-biographical narrative of Elizabeth Barrett Browning and her dog for my dissertation.  Flush: A Biography (1933) is proving to be an enchanting tale as Woolf imaginatively conjures up the spaniel's perspective.  The following scene in which Elizabeth and Flush meet each other for the first time was, for me, particularly poignant:

     
'Oh, Flush!' said Miss Barrett.  For the first time she look him in the face.  For the first time Flush looked at the lady lying on the sofa.

     Each was surprised.  Heavy curls hung down on either side of Miss Barrett's face; large bright eyes shone out; a large mouth smiled.  Heavy ears hung down on either side of Flush's face; his eyes, too, were large and bright: his mouth was wide.  There was a likeness between them.  As they gazed at each other each felt: Here am I -- and then each felt: But how different!  Hers was the pale worn face of an invalid, cut off from air, light, freedom.  His was the warm ruddy face of a young animal; instinct with health and energy.  Broken asunder, yet made in the same mould, could it be that each completed what was dormant in the other?  She might have been -- all that; and he -- But no.  Between them lay the widest gulf that can separate one being from another.  She spoke.  He was dumb.  She was woman; he was dog.  Thus closely united, thus immensely divided, they gazed at each other.  Then with one bound Flush sprang on to the sofa and laid himself where he was to lie for ever after -- on the rug at Miss Barrett's feet. 

Barrett Browning and Flush

Image via Google

I blubbered like a baby when I read this passage in the library.  I, too, was an invalid when Percy entered my life as a wee pup; and his company was medicinal.  Like Elizabeth and Flush, my mum maintains that he and I look alike.  One thing that astounds me about animals is the way in which, despite the communication barrier of which Woolf writes, they manage to make themselves heard.  Percy and I have certainly found a way to understand one another -- even if I speak, and he is dumb.  Except...Percy is not dumb.  He barks and growls to high heaven!  I feel quite lucky to know that he is being pampered and well cared for by my parents while I work towards my graduate degree.  But I sure do miss him. 

'She was woman; he was dog.'

Another great photo by Chelsea

Meet Percy

Most of you know that I dote on my dog Percy to the point of ridiculousness and, if my conversation is any indication, doggy anecdotes will no doubt litter this blog before I can say, 'Sit!'  I thought a short introduction would be the order of the day, but Percy had other ideas and insisted on introducing himself.  So, I will leave him to it....

Dearest Friends,

It has come to my attention that the evidently insane lady who relentlessly insists upon referring to me as her ‘baby boy’ (such an impertinence) has resolved to incorporate narratives concerning me into her little writings.  As such, I feel it only right I should be first be presented to you by own paw.  What can I say of myself?  I consider myself to be an active fellow.  Vigorous exercise in the form of long romps and games of cuz, the details of this extraordinary invention shall be related at a future date, are wholly invigorating and enjoyable.  I wish I could say that such practices occupy much of my day, but this would be a falsehood.  For I often find that following these corporeal efforts, I am much fatigued.  The only practice I have thus far discovered as a means of establishing restoration is the undertaking of multiple slumbers, they need only be brief, throughout the day.  

I consider it my sworn duty to protect the property and livelihood of my family.  Much of my time is dedicated to this endeavour.  I must confess I often quickly retract from interrogating interlopers upon their entering the estate, but I assure you that this action is entirely due to my quickly comprehending that these persons impose no threat.  Nor is it a sign of cowardice, as many have supposed, that I quickly scamper under the furniture at these entrances.  Rather, I feel it necessary to have an improvised weapon at my disposal in the event that I should abruptly be called upon to defend my residence.  As I am not a sporting lad, I own no traditional weaponry and would of necessity be compelled to make use of such items as chairs should an unfortunate incident occur.  Yes, quite.

My lone grievance is that my family often show to me the same deference given to the canine in our household: Scavenger, a rotund and indolent beagle.  As a well-bred gentleman of considerable rank descending from a fine lineage of toy fox terrier blood, I find this treatment appalling.  While I have repeatedly expressed my displeasure at the inedible kibble served to us twice daily, I have yet to witness any enduring alterations in the menu.  Perhaps it is time to engage new servants.  My sleeping quarters are equally disagreeable.  At times I succeed in acquiring the comfort of the best beds in the manor, more often than not I am left to repose in the kitchen with the animals.  It is a hardship not easily borne.  

Despite all this, I possess an implacable fondness for my family. My mother especially is, indeed, rather too effusive in her affections, but I tolerate them the best I can.  She is, nevertheless, devoted and benevolent.  During this prolonged absence, I miss her greatly.  I remain

Yours, etc.

Sir Perceval P. Pup

It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

 Defending the drawing room, 

in this case, from the wily schemes of the cat.

 En garde!