Elvish Resolutions

So 2014 is here.
And I'm glad
2013 has had too much of the "13," in it for my liking.
To welcome in the new year, we spent yesterday celebrating in true Sri Lankan style, making  " short eats," to share with our friends and neighbours

pol sambol- spicey coconut 

vadai- spicey, fried doughballs

kiribath- diamond- shaped , coconut rice

 For the day our house was full of chatter, laughter, the smell of spices  and the vague sense of hope that always comes with the dawning of a new year.
Teenagers lounged on the sofa, recovering from their New Year's Eve partying, little children fought over who should sit on the beanbag and grown ups chatted idly about nothing in particular.
 But somehow, somewhere in the conversation, someone mentioned New Years resolutions.
" I'm going to start running," said one of our friend's confidently. 
" I'm definitely going to start worrying less," said another.
" I'm going to stop drinking in January," said one of our newest friends, waving around her glass of mulled wine.
"But today is the 1st of January,"  someone pointed out. 
Our new friend paused, drink half way to her mouth, " yes, but today's a bank holiday,so it doesn't count ," she explained, draining the glass.
" We're going to have more friends round for dinner in 2014," chimed in some others. 
" I'm going to finish my website," said out free-lance graphic designer friend.
" I'm going to eat less," said one of our neighbours, reaching for another vadai.
I sat listening, eating kiri-bath with my fingers, dreaming I was sitting on a sun drenched, silver-white beach in Sri Lanka.
Outside it started to get dark and rain pattered on the window.
" How about you Becky?" someone asked, calling me out of my day dream. " Have you made any New Years resolutions?"
I glanced at the kids. They were lying, staring glassy eyed at the TV, surrounded by biscuits and crisp packets.
" I'm going to get the children to tidy up more often," I said.
" I think the idea of New Year's resolutions is that they are meant to be possible," said one of my friends, " that one's impossible. Choose a realistic one."
" You're right," I said, passing around a plate of fish cutlets, " since seeing the Hobbit, my real resolution for 2014 is to become an elf."
" But your ears aren't pointy, your hair isn't long and you can't speak elvish," pointed out one of our guests. 
" True," I said, " but those are all obstacles that can be easily overcome. I think the hardest about being an elf will be believing that I can always thwart my enemies at the speed of lightening while spending  the rest of my very long life drifting around writing songs and poems and being aesthetically pleasing. That part will definitely be a challenge."
" No point in making resolutions that are too easy though is there?" said someone supportively, " What's in this coconut stuff? It's really nice."
And so the conversation turned to recipes and dinners and the most delicious meals people had eaten in 2013.
And slowly people began to drift home, leaving a trail of paper plates, empty glasses, hopes for a happy 2014 and the warmth of friendship behind them.
" Your ears are a little bit pointy," said one of my friends, hugging me goodbye.
" Thanks, " I said, hugging her back.
But chances are I won't become an elf in 2014. 
Most likely I won't even get the kids to tidy up more.
Still, I can keep hoping.
Because the best thing about the beginning of a new year, is that there is always the chance it will be better the old one.
And that's worth celebrating.

So here's to hoping that 2014 is full of dreams and happiness... and just a little bit of elvish magic.

Happy New Year!