With the first of February at hand, I have been asking myself what in the world happened to my determination to plant my feet firmly on the ground in order to get a jump-start on January.

I've never officially made a New Year's resolution simply because statistics show that even the best of good intentions typically last an average of three weeks.

Added to that is the fact that taking the risk of ending up on a guilt trip before Valentine's Day gets here hasn't had any particular appeal to me.

Besides, even if I wanted to, wasn't it too late to make what might amount to a half-hearted attempt at trying to establish a long-range plan for 2012? That, at least, was what I was telling myself when the first cold night of the season settled over the Sandhills.

I had a lot on my mind when the ball dropped on Times Square. And since I was secretly trying to sort through some of the pluses and minuses, I opted not to pick up the book I was currently reading or to turn my computer back on to check for after-5 p.m. email messages.

Instead, I put on my warm, fluffy white robe, turned off a few lamps and leaned back in the comfort of a wingback chair.

Some of you know that I moved from Southern Pines to Pinehurst about three months ago, making this my first full year in a new home that I love. It's perfect for me. The size, location and overall amenities are everything I need. So, how could I ask for more? It was a question I began to ponder.

Several weeks ago, the topic for the Sunday sermon at The Village Chapel was "The Need for More." It was timely and a fitting reminder that all of us are inclined to ask for things we don't really need; but, more important, things that we might not want after we get them.

The old saying "Be careful what you ask for" has numerous interpretations, most of which take the fun out of wishing because they are extremely cautionary. Some even speak of spells, and others, curses.

All of this has been enough to make me reconsider putting together a long-range plan for the remaining months of this infant year. It has nothing to do with profit and loss. And if there is a mission statement, it is implied. Simply put, I'm banking on having the good judgment to recognize the worth of what I currently have - faithful friends, a loving family, an adequate income, surprisingly good health and, for the time being, a sound mind.

Added to that is a strong belief in a Being that is greater than myself. But long-range plans, like resolutions and good intentions, are meant to be reviewed and revised.

So, if I should falter during the coming seasons of yet another year in my life and experience more losses than gains, I can at best only hope that I will be able to reverse the trend by reminding myself not to take any of the above for granted.

I am also counting on a Plan B. What it will take to make that work is my ability to reconstruct the list of countless favors extended to me, the handshakes and the arms placed around my shoulders.

Among the many greetings I have received during the last few months was one featuring a video that was clearly made in celebration of creation. The message was almost spiritual in the depiction of the beautiful animals and landscapes. I thought about it as I sat in that darkened room and resolved to live by the words that scrolled slowly down the screen:

"This new year lies before you like a spotless tract of snow; be careful how you tread upon it for every mark will show."

Surely, we still have time to ask that of one another.

Contact Pinehurst writer Lois Holt at lholt79@nc.rr.com.