Discussing feelings in part one (not a thing easily done by a middle-aged, centrist dad), it felt trite to finish with a big ole list of the year's media. I've hived it off into a second post instead.
- Get back into the wholesome reading. Which means 35+ books and less Twitter.
- Better note taking. They're good to capture my thoughts as they are, rather than as I choose to remember them. So no more than 6 missed weeknotes and toning down the false positivity. If I'm sad, I'm writing that I'm sad.
- Nothing bigger than a B-Cup. This probably means correcting my levels of exercise, water and alcohol. This is the resolution I'm going to be least strict with.
- Keep up with the analogue to-do lists. My work contributions are better. My work-life balance is better. My sleep is better without the hamster wheel of unfinished tasks.
- I considered adding meditation. But get enough in the nursery while settling and while watching In the Night Garden. And I want to get angry enough this year.
- Give Piglet the vocabulary to understand her feelings. Be honest with her when I'm annoyed. No-one wins with unexplained stoicism. And we'll sprinkle it with kindness.
- A stitch in time saves nine. And I tend toward ignoring needing nine and throwing the garment out. So single stitches done promptly this year.
- The absence of holiday—or even planning for one—hurt last year. Travel is still going to be difficult, so maybe something like the North Coast 500?
In September 2017 I resolved to read 52 books a year. I managed 71 books in 2018. Piglet interfered with that pace, but I still managed 42 in 2019. This year a measly 25.
I managed to choose a lot of books that weren't for me. Coupled with the pandemic I abandoned more books than normal. Unable to focus on long-reads, as per Tom Stuart, I'm also comfortable doing nothing.
My top books for the year were:
- Fiction: Girl, Woman, Other by Bernadine Evaristo
- Non-fiction: Wilding by Isabella Tree
- Short story: Bloodchild by Octavia Butler
- Comic: Paper Girls by Bryan Vaughn and Cliff Chiang
- Poetry: Brand New Ancients by Kae Tempest
And I write my review up here.
Films and TV were close to non-existent. I watched half my year's allocation of movies on a single transatlantic flight a week before lockdown. My top 3 (from 14) were:
- Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse
- If Beale Street Could Talk
I was luckier with the films than the books though, and I gave nothing less than a 3/5 star rating.
Lockdown meant I went to zero gigs this year. And I don't have a great list of my year in music. Spotify's wrap up has been Piglet-ified and tells me I've listened to Baby Sleep Shh over 22,000 times. At least I'm inculcating her with poor taste from the off.
Lockdown also eliminated my commute so I've had to trim the fat from my podcast subscriptions. Mostly sport and politics. And what's left is mostly sport and politics. My top-of-the-queue series are:
- New Statesman. Mainly for Stephen Bush, who has a critical and elucidatory way of thinking and talking about politics. But also to listen to nice people talk about politics, rather than a collection of pricks.
- Talking Politics. David Runciman's honeyed tones. Helen Thompson's insight. Regular cast of compelling guests and interviewees.
- The Poet Laureate has gone to his Shed. I love Simon Armitage. I love this.
- Bookshambles. I've decorated two houses to the sound of Robin Ince and Josie Long talking to people about books they love (plus whatever else is on Robin's mind that day). I see no reason to stop now
- Desert Island Discworld. Neither Robin or Josie like the Discworld books, so this a lovely addition to the roster to fill that gap.