I don't much care for resolutions. The very word is off-putting, unless we're talking about screen resolution, and then it's just something that this non-tech-savvy chick doesn't quite understand. I'm talking about the kind of resolutions that people feel compelled to make at the beginning of every new year.
"I have made a resolution to lose 20 pounds."
"I resolve to save $xx.xx and pay off my credit card debt."
"My New Year's resolution is to quit smoking (or drinking, or nagging my husband, etc.)"
How realistic is that really? Maybe if you're a go-getter. I have a sister like that. She sets her sights on what she wants, and doesn't stop until she has it. I admire that kind of motivation but I don't possess whatever it is that makes it happen. I'm the kind of person who doesn't even tell the kids about the trip to the Zoo that I have planned until right before we leave. Just in case something else comes up, like all of them having meltdowns within 5 minutes of each other. In that case, I like to lock myself in the bathroom with some wine, a book, music, and a bath and let my sweet husband take care of it. (Thanks, Dear!) They never knew that something fun was going to happen; therefore they aren't disappointed and I don't have to feel like I failed. Voila!
I like to make goals, but not just any goals. Tentative goals. The kind of goals that are nice to think about, but if they don't happen, it's OK. For example, I'll make the tentative goal to not eat out all week long. A nice homemade, whole food dinner every night of the week. But if I end up asking my husband (he's so awesome) to pick up Chipotle one night when I'm just not feeling it, it's ok. Because my goal was tentative. It almost doesn't count. All right, I do occasionally make goals that I really really mean, but they're still not resolutions. Just maybe firm goals.
The point of all of the preceding verbal dribble is this: I have an exceedingly large yarn stash. Embarrassingly large. So big, that I feel like it is really almost more like furniture than crafting supplies. Sure, I take it out and admire it and think of all of the things I could make with it, but I don't do enough of the making. So I've made the tentative goal of creating two finished objects per week. Should be easy, right? I mean, I could make two dishcloths in just a couple of hours if I wanted to.
Heck, as soon as I put the sleeve on this sweater that I've been working on for two months (and ignoring for 3 weeks) I'll be halfway there.