I’ve always been a frustrated artist. Inside me somewhere is an artistic genius trying to get out. In my dreams I sit poised at an easel, the canvas before me alive with colour, my hand moving fluidly across the surface, blending shades into a harmonious pastoral scene. But alas though the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak and I can barely draw a square.
My art teacher Mrs McNamara, whose name still haunts me after almost half a century, repeatedly accused me of taking the piss, declaring that nobody could be as inept at drawing as I was. But never one to let a small thing like ineptitude deter her I have drawn in my inimitable fashion my goals for the coming year.
The illustrations are self-explanatory but for the visually impaired I have added a short explanation.
I have been anticipating food shortages for many a long year but I’m absolutely certain that next year I’ll be right. And I’m ready! With extra greenhouse space and a few more chucks to inhabit my 520 ft² foot coop, which currently houses only one chuck per 52 ft², (Yes, I'm more of a mathematician than an artist) I’ll have carrots and eggs for every man woman and child in the county.
A man can live on a carrot and an egg a day you know and besides, most of you could do with shedding a few pounds.
My second goal for 2025 is to perfect the art of saying no. Since this is not a word I’ve practiced much, I intend to clearly indicate and emphasise my refusal by holding up my hand in a stop gesture in response to any and every request.
If this doesn’t work maybe I’ll just perfect the art of running away.
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