By Bob Wagner, AAP Columnist

The recent cold snap has me trapped inside, huddled near the warm radiator, bored out of my mind with bad TV shows. Over 1,200 channels and it’s getting worse every year. I’m rereading old columns I wrote years ago, looking for some inspiration for the New Year.

I once wrote, in a eulogy about a great friend, that we were aware that we had more adventures behind us than we had time for ahead, but that we were okay. What poppycock! I want more adventures! But not as much running, jumping up and down adventures. Some kind of adventure with a lot of sitting, preferably in the warm sunshine, would be good. It could involve a bit of adult beverage at the conclusion, but no tobacco, or too much sugar, or extra salt.

All of this rushes through my head, as I sit and sand a small wooden bench. I started a large wooden bench last week, but it turned cold again, and chased me back to my seat on the big soft chair near the radiator. What a wuss I have become.

I blame some of this winter malaise on stopping smoking. The rest is my wife’s fault. Her cookies and Christmas candy still overflow in my kitchen. I’m too lazy to even plan a winter getaway to Florida. The fishing gear is all down in the garage, and it’s too cold to clean out my truck and repack. If I was a dog, someone would be talking about sending me to “the farm.”

So, as I sit here pouring out my heart, looking for sympathy, I hear my wife’s voice, mumbling something about long unfinished household projects. I hear some mumbles with the word “plumbing,” and then “plaster.” Alarms go off in my slow, chilly, old brain. Then I think I hear the words “basement” and maybe “mess.” Before any more serious damage occurs in my brain, I leap into boots, coat, mittens, and race to my truck. Driving quickly cross town to Jones’ house, I pick up my cohort in crime and drive over to the Palmyra nature preserve to see the deer. After a bit of leisurely sightseeing, a cup of hot tea at the diner, and some loose talk about planning an adventure in the spring, I’ll return home to the bride. Hopefully she’ll have her hands full taking care of her critters on the iPhone farm, and will have forgotten her wish to see me perform home remodeling tasks.

I sit in my warm truck, looking at my humble castle from street side. The Christmas lights and candy canes are listing to one side, dusted lightly with snow. Half of the holly in the window box is missing, blown out by the winter’s gale force winds. A good citizen would haul out the ladder, brave the elements, and take down Christmas! Instead, I slink into the dining room, grab a cup of coffee, and look about for those travel brochures from last year’s drive south. I need sunshine, orange juice, and flip flops in my life. Wish me luck!