So far this year I have been making plans. Making plans and organising myself an awful lot.
January is at best a bit dreary and at worst downright depressing. This year it has mostly been dreary and wet, lots of missed afternoon dog walks, muddy boots and water. But it's also been quite exciting because I've been organised for the first time in ages. In an attempt to lift my spirits away from wet January and towards sunshine, I've been planning stuff. So far, a summer holiday, a (proper) garden plan and personal goals for every month. January's goal was to complete all plans - see what I did there, totally achieved that one already huh?
Now I'm a big fan of planning, I like the good energy it fosters and the good stuff it makes happen but I try not to go too overboard because I know the old saying to be true, "man makes plans and God laughs". The times I have had cause to recollect these words of wisdom are too many to count.
Let me see, the plan was to be married at 28 (church, giant dress, the works), first baby at 30, second baby at 32 and living in suburban bliss with Mr Emma in a house almost entirely decorated in beige for ever and ever, till death do us part! Yeah. Want to know how all that youthful planning turned out? Well I was undateably single at 28, speedily divorced at 34 and blissfully pregnant at 40. Life has its own plans doesn't it? I think the trick is to go with the flow but have in mind a direction to go in and be relaxed about getting there. Because you do get there in the end, well I certainly did, only thing is our house doesn't seem to have anything beige in it.
Last year was entirely 'off-plan' and consequently much drifting and fannying around did occur; we didn't get a holiday, we didn't do anything amazing with the house or garden, we didn't even have any days out. We did however raise a pretty awesome baby and enjoyed every minute of it so don't get the violins out just yet, I'm just saying that some plans are good.
Just the act of writing something down (preferably in a very dreamy notebook) seems to make it happen and so this week will be spent perusing the South of France, looking for places to stay, writing itineraries, dreaming of sunshine, beaches and Carcassonne and trying to decide if 42 is too old for a hot pink bikini!