Like some of my fellow Fiction Friday writers I don't go in for New Year resolutions, so here are some anti-resolutions... things I promise not to do.

I will not mourn over Wales defeat to New Zealand in the Rugby World Cup final by going on a singing spree around every pub in the town. I'll do the singing spree the night before. And please note, I said singing not drinking. For Welshmen the two are incompatible. First we sing, afterwards we pursue other less important pleasures.

I will not sacrifice any roast beef and Yorkshire pudding dishes to Eyjafjallajökull in a bid to appease him and try and prevent a repeat performance of last year's breakout in 2011. The resulting digestion would almost certainly prove to be counterproductive and bring about the cancellation of our holiday in Spain to visit our son who's studying there for one year.

I will most certainly not start living up to my old fogey age by refusing to make a fool of myself at folk dances, sing songs etc.

I will not back away from the annual "sing our anthem before the game" competition before the Wales v France game at our local pub just because my son will not be singing along beside me. Even if the French doubled the 19 people they put out last time, that still won't be a match for me alone. Besides, if the wind is right, we might even hear my son singing his head off in Spain.

I will not give way to pressure to write a trashy, political novel filled with violence, sex and corruption. My imagination just could never do justice to what's actually happening.

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