Lenten abstinences always tend to peter out for me. Part of the problem is that my birthday is on one of only ten or so days in the year that cannot fall before Ash Wednesday or after Easter Day, and it would be monstrously unfair to have to deny myself on my birthday every single year. Wouldn't it? At least this year we're well into Holy Week before the question arises.
So I have been buying books, and having books bought for me, and will be buying more books (my colleagues gave me book tokens, I have no choice in the matter). No yarn has yet come home, but I devoted a birthday cheque to signing up for the Yarn Yard Sock Club Plus, because I love Natalie's colours so much. I couldn't deny myself cake any longer, because what is a birthday without cake? About the only thing I haven't buckled on is alcohol. I had two glasses of wine on Refreshment Sunday, and that was it. I don't feel as if I've particularly achieved anything with that, though, because I haven't felt remotely tempted.
There are new resolutions concerning books and yarn. I am acquiring relatively freely until the end of March, but after that I am trying to make a new, permanent, resolution not to buy either unless I plan to read or knit them immediately. Or they're stupendously reduced, of course. I might even manage it, if yesterday's trip to Foyles is anything to go by. I found myself walking round the fiction section, knowing I could spend (relatively) freely, and bought just three books, only one of which I hadn't been specifically looking for.
I am planning to celebrate my birthday by staying in. Outside it is cold and hailing, and Chris just came back from getting the paper singing "I'm dreaming of a White Easter". Spring has retreated again. Saturday at Penshurst Place in Kent was lovely, though.