A new year.

Time for making resolutions. Or is it?

Some friends consider drafting resolutions to be an outdated activity that results in unnecessary guilt when the person doesn’t achieve the hoped-for goals.

Other friends relish compiling long lists of goals they resolve to achieve, and they break them down into categories: weight loss, healthy eating habits, physical activity, moral improvement, computer skills, etc.

Some like to come up with ideas on their own such as “Reward positive behavior,” with the target of their resolving to be children and puppies.

Others would prefer to have some printed guidelines to choose from. “Resolve to read more.” An author suggestion list then provided — choose one. 1. Zane Grey, 2. Jane Austen, 3. Scriptures, 4. Shakespeare, 5. Dr. Seuss.

Sometimes resolution goals needed to be updated/revised partway through the year.

A few years ago, my initial resolution: Learn to bake bread.

That year, my revised resolution: Learn to bake edible bread.

During the frigid winter the family spent in the Midwest, I resolved to take advantage of the cold. My resolution: Learn to ice skate.

Watching Olympic figure skaters and ice hockey pros on the TV as they zipped around on their skating rinks looked challenging but exciting. Periodically, the ice conditioning machine, the Zamboni (named after the inventor), chugged across the skating rink leaving a polished, fresh look to the ice.

I strapped on an old pair of ice skates I found in the barn and cleared the snow off a bumpy frozen pond with the barn broom. To stay upright, I skated doubles-style with the broom as my partner. After spending more time getting up from falls than actually skating, I hobbled back to the farmhouse with an impressive collection of bruises.

Reaching for the stars, so to speak, in my ice-skating quest, I didn’t feel like a failure. Instead, I gained a greater appreciation for the skaters’ abilities and the sacrifices and practice time they spent honing their skills.

I love watercolors. I purchased a watercolor set complete with tubes of paint, brushes, a palette for mixing colors. I did what I do best with art supplies. I set the box out so I can enjoy the many colors of paint tubes, admire the flowers in the how-to manual. I like to keep art supplies all tidy and colorful. I’ve never opened the paint tubes.

A few years ago, a watercolor art class for adults opened in a nearby town. Since I was late registering, the instructor let me pay for each class I attended and supplied materials. My first class assignment — paint a tulip. The teacher walked me through the steps, one step at a time. The petals took shape in shades of peach and pink. “Next step,” the teacher said, “you can finish off your tulip with a stem yourself.”

No problem. A couple strokes in green shades. The stem looked too puny to hold a blooming tulip. I added a few more stokes, then more. My painting ended up with a tulip blossom perched on a stem that looked like a Sequoia tree trunk.

The quandary for the New Year — resolutions or no resolutions. Perhaps a short list with one or two resolutions. Maybe a long list adding new resolutions and including old ones never completed. Or skip the whole affair and settle down with popcorn and a classic movie.