Here are my answers from 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, and 2024. These are my answers from 2025:
Day 1:
Describe a significant experience that has happened in the past year. How did it affect you? Are you grateful? Relieved? Resentful? Inspired?My answer:
A few things come to mind. I had a health issue earlier this year. It was causing me discomfort. I discussed it with Fran and checked some of my symptoms on the NHS website. After calling 111, we decided the best thing to do was to go to A&E to get it checked out. We were very lucky: not having to wait that long to be seen. I was examined and then given a course of antibiotics, which cleared up the problem in a few days. At the time, thinking about the worst-case scenario made me queasy and uncomfortable. Thinking about it now, I'm relieved and grateful that it wasn't more serious.We had a similar scare with our cat, Milly, this weekend. On Thursday evening, I accidentally kicked her in the head with my shin when she was following me around on the landing at bedtime. She has a habit of getting underfoot and in the way. I've kicked both cats accidentally quite a few times, but this one felt a bit more significant. She didn't show any immediate signs, but I noticed the next morning that her head was drooping low. She couldn't look up. I called the Oxford Cat Clinic and they recommended bringing her in. Again, we were lucky that they had an appointment straight away. I took her in for examination. They gave her an anti-inflammatory injection and some more anti-inflammatory painkillers to add to her food every morning. She rested a lot on Friday to Sunday. Her head was low and she seemed unsteady on her feet. She hid away and slept. By Monday, she seemed mostly back to normal. When I took her back to Oxford Cat Clinic this afternoon, they thought she was fine. They recommended continuing with the anti-inflammatory painkillers unti they run out. It turns out this is also the stuff they'd use for arthritis. Although she looked very sweet with a droopy head, I'm so relieved and thankful that she's recovered from it. These little scares make me very grateful for my health and the health of those I love.
I've also learned in the last week or so that although my father-in-law Tom's cancer continues to grow, it isn't growing quickly. He has been "discharged" from hospital, which means they he won't be having regular scans and blood tests every three months. He also won't be having any more treatment. I'm really pleased that this should give him and Ros a better quality of life - however long is left. It is apparently "months", but this could be 18 months. I hope he doesn't suffer too much from the "So you're still here, then?" brigade. I suppose this was the best news we could hope for, and I'm thankful for his sake that he will no longer be medicalized.
I've also had some lovely holidays with Fran: a short break in Paris in March to watch France vs Scotland in the Six Nations; a return to Wales in May; and a lovely holiday in Pescara and Numana on the Italian Adriatic coast. I feel like we've adjusted quite well to each other after we had a conversation about some issues during our holiday in Ireland last year. I certainly feel we've avoided some of the stresses and tensions that can build up when spending so much time together and making collective decisions. I'm really grateful that whatever adjustments we've made to each other seem to be making things easier (at least from my perspective).
Day 2:
Is there something that you wish you had done differently this past year? Alternatively, is there something you're especially proud of from this past year?My answer:
I've been battling with my procrastinatory demons for much of the year. I'm proud that I'm still able to get things done - even if they take me longer than I would like. I finished a big audit for the Salvation Army in July, which had been dragging on since the beginning of the year. I'm quite proud of the quality of that work and its thoroughness.I've learned a thing about perfectionism: it's not that I try to make everything perfect, it's just that I'm very quick to find fault. I think that's partly what makes it difficult for me to get things done: I can always see the shortcomings or how things could be better. It's really tiring.
I do also feel overwhelmed at times with how much is on my plate. I'm grateful that I have all this work; I'm just not always motivated to do it, and the motivation definitely takes a dip when stuff keeps coming in and swamping me. That said, the way to get through this is just to focus on one thing and do it well, then move on to the next thing. I quite often feel like this at this time of year. Lots of my clients are gearing up for their Christmas appeals later in the year. There's a lot of work to do to get tracking in place.
I'm also quite proud that Fran and I spoke Italian on our holiday. We'd spent about 3 months learning on Duolingo every day. I knew it would be necessary to be able to speak a bit of Italian in this more remote region of Italy that is less popular with foreign tourists. It was nice to be amongst Italian holiday-makers and not hear that many non-Italian voices. I always tried to answer in Italian even when our waiters spoke to us in English. I had my usual shyness for the first few days but gradually grew in confidence. We are continuing to learn and have kept up our Duolingo streaks.
I'm also quite proud of finally finishing my List of Books to Read After Finals (with the exception of "Mein Kampf" by Adolf Hitler, which seems less important and less attractive to read than some of the other things on my shelves). I've been really focused on doing this since I got back into reading again in 2021. It feels good to have done it and it was certainly motivating to get closer to the end of the list.
Day 3:
Think about a major milestone that happened with your family this past year. How has this affected you?My answer:
My father-in-law, Tom, was discharged last week after the results of his cancer scan. This means he won't have any further treatment and he doesn't have to have regular blood tests and scans. His cancer is still there and still growing. This was probably the best we could hope for. I'm relieved for his sake that he doesn't have to spend more time in hospital and doesn't have to endure the ongoing "scanxiety" of always having the next scan hanging over him; or the results of the previous scan. I hope this means he can enjoy a relatively normal life in what he has left, which may only be months, but could be 18 months.My dad, Sandy, has also been suffering with cataracts all year. We finally heard today that he will have a pre-op next week, which presumably means it will be fixed soon. I'm hoping he recovers in time for our family gathering on Arran to scatter the last of my brother Gregory's ashes in October.
Arran will also be an opportunity for me to meet Tommy, my sister Laura's boyfriend / partner. But that's a future-looking milestone. I'm supposed to be looking back with this question.
How has Tom's cancer affected me? It's made me want to cherish what time we have left together. It has influenced some of my reading choices: to read books he has recommended while we still have time to discuss them together. It's made me keen to see him regularly: to encourage us to find the odd weekend when we can go down to Zeals for cooling chicken and a few hours of tech support (my love language). I guess I feel a certain sense of anticipatory grief: not just mine, but on behalf of Fran and Ros and the rest of the family. But I feel he's also in a good place. He's been writing his memoirs quite studiously for the past few years. He's spent plenty of time with his grandchildren, Jim and Tilly. He's still able to sing and play the organ in church on Sundays. It's probably been good for him to simplify life, to turn down some social events and visits, to read and spend time at home with Ros. He doesn't complain (at least not in front of us) and he seems to have quite a high tolerance for pain and discomfort. To me, at least, he seems dignified in his old age and declining health. He's still very sharp mentally - with a good memory, the ability to read and write, and good conversation. Is it a better way to go body first, before mind?
There were times when I was concerned that some of the scans he had this year might have brought with them worse news and a shorter prognosis: that we might have to be prepared to drop things and abandon our holiday plans or even come home early. So I'm grateful that that hasn't happened or been necessary. When we booked our holiday in Pescara earlier this year, we were concerned that our travel insurance wouldn't cover us in the event of his death or ill health. But that thankfully never happened. I still think it makes Fran reluctant to commit to going away next year - for the Six Nations in Dublin in March, for example.
My niece, Tilly, was Christened. Fran was, somewhat to her surprise, nominated as one of the godparents. I did a reading during the service. I don't really think this was a particularly big milestone in her life. But I guess it's one of those coming-of-age moments and another excuse for a family gathering.
We also went to Patrick's 90th birthday party (Tom's older brother). The place was teeming with Wheares! It's bewildering how many of them there are and how they are all related to each other. It's quite a complicated family; but in some ways no different from any other family. I think this occasion felt significant because there's unlikely to be that sort of gathering again with all the same people. The implication was that Tom and/or Patrick wouldn't be there for the next one.
I'm writing a lot about Fran's side of the family. What milestones have there been for the Whalens? I've established regular calls with Moira and Sandy. Oh, that's one: my friend, Mellor, from the Warnock Society, encouraged me last year to record conversations with my parents. I've had a handful of recorded Zoom calls with them where I asked them about their early lives together before marriage and children. For some reason (because I haven't prompted, most likely), we haven't done one for a while. There's always present-day stuff to discuss. But I'm really grateful I've started this project. It feeds my instinct as The Archivist. And I've learned things about my parents' lives that I didn't know about.
Day 4:
Describe an event in the world that has impacted you this year. How? Why?My answer:
Since Labour won the general election last year, I've pretty much unplugged from politics and the daily news cycle. I don't know if many events in the world do impact me directly. But I guess one thing is that when Trump cut US funding of the UN, this had a knock-on effect on one of my clients, UNAIDS. My contact there is leaving in March next year and, although we had approval for quite a large budget, I've hardly heard from them at all this year. It's quite sad, but I don't mind that much. I've got plenty of work elsewhere.I listened to Peter Frankopan's "The New Silk Roads: The Present and Future of the World". This helps me put things like the Israel-Gaza situation into context and realize that this sort of shite has been going on for thousands of years and will continue, no matter how much we oh-dear about it. It's made me realize that power (and money) has shifted east. Wars are, sadly, a natural part of the human cycle. They're going to happen. I just wish they didn't happen with weapons that we developed and sold all around the world.
Another thing that springs to mind, and which I think has only happened in the last 12 months, is that the government has introduced a VAT on private school fees, which has had a big impact on Fran's ability to fundraise. It's also causing some fee-paying schools to close down and merge. This doesn't affect me, but it affects Fran. I agree with the principle of the policy: make the rich pay more tax. I just don't think it was fully thought through or consulted before it was implemented. It is also having knock-on effects that might not have been envisaged. Wouldn't it be easier just to increase income tax and spend more time and effort trying to collect taxes from the rich rather than allowed them to dodge and move money around to exploit loopholes?
Day 5:
Have you had any particularly spiritual experiences this past year? How has this experience affected you? "Spiritual" can be broadly defined to include secular spiritual experiences: artistic, cultural, and so forth.My answer:
I think Fran wrote about this, too. We went to see "Operation Mincemeat" this summer, using theatre vouchers that Fran's colleagues gave her when she left her job at Hertford College. We went on Fran's friend Froniga's recommendation. I'd forgotten the premise of the musical and so went in with only a vague sense of what I was going to see. It was quite fun and jolly at the beginning and it won me over with a song about a man wishing he was a tadpole. The plot is based on a true story from World War II. The British plant a dead body in an elaborate plan to trick the Germans into thinking they're going to invade one place when they're really going to invade another. They use the body of a homeless man. They invent a whole identity for the dead man. He's a pilot. The spiritual experience was a song called "Dear Bill", which is an imaginary letter that the man's wife writes to him when he's away at war. It completely blindsided me. Part of the way through the song, there's a line about how his little sister is practising the piano to make him proud of her when (if) he returns from the war. It made me burst into unexpected tears. I could sense the two women in front of me crying (even though I think they'd seen it at least once before), and Fran was, too. Wow. I love feeling that kind of strong emotion, particularly when it takes you by surprise. The narrative of the song was just so captivating. I was also reading Barbara Pym's novel, "Less Than Angels", so the song seemed to share the same suburban London setting as Pym. Amazing stuff and hard to put into words.Another production we went to see was "Evita" at the London Palladium. We had amazing seats at the back of the Royal Circle, right in the centre. Towards the beginning of the show, there's a swell from the orchestra that got me right in the feels. The volume, the brassiness, the sheer spectacle. It was like that time that I stood behind the orchestra pit at the Royal Opera House while they were rehearsing in the afternoon before a performance of a Mozart opera (not sure which one). Just the sound of a full orchestra up close - so visceral. I love it!
I also had a pretty cool sporting experience last season. My team, the Washington Commanders, had a sensational season: their best since my very first following the team in 1991, when they went on to win the Super Bowl. We had so many great victories last season but the most amazing was the Hail Mary touchdown pass on the last play of the game against the Chicago Bears. It was one of those magical sporting moments that just made me squeal with delight (memories of the 13-second Chiefs-Bills playoff game from a few years ago that made me scream into a cushion in the middle of the night). Unbelievable stuff - and it was happening to my team. I also really enjoyed the playoff wins against the Bucs and especially the Lions. Just games where they played brilliantly and lesser players made big plays. I felt utterly spoiled.
Day 6:
Describe one thing you'd like to achieve by this time next year. Why is this important to you?My answer:
I'd like to put my brother Gregory's artwork into the portfolios that Fran bought me for Christmas a couple of years ago. I didn't do it straight away because Moira discouraged me from going through his stuff in the immediate aftermath of his death on 22 August 2023. I then didn't use the portfolios straight away because they were a bit smaller than I had envisaged: I was thinking of those big, suitcase-sized portfolios that painters or architects carry around with them: flat leather zip-up cases with handles. To fit the artwork into these portfolios, I'll have to fold some of them. Many of them are already folded and in a bag for life. By the end of October, we will have scattered the final urn of Gregory's ashes on the isle of Arran. I feel (hope) that will unlock something in me to get on with some of my archiving. I've already gone through the pile once to take some pictures for Zoe, who wanted to use some of Gregory's artwork to print a custom X-Box controller for Richard. But I want to finally do something with Fran's thoughtful gift. I feel guilty that I haven't used them so far, that I didn't really speak up to say it wasn't quite what I had in mind. I'm sure they will be perfectly fine. They may even be better than what I wanted because they are small enough to fit on to a shelf and will therefore probably be easier to store. It would be nice not to have to look at them every time I go to my study.Another death-related task that I want to achieve by this time next year is to complete my living will - my advanced care plan - to say what I want to happen to me in the event that I become ill or incapacitated. There will also be the opportunity to note down some ideas for my funeral. These were things that I asked Moira and Sandy to do in the aftermath of Gregory's death. They eventually did do it, but my intention was that we should all do it: Laura, Richard, and Fran, too. Of course there's always more important stuff to do. It took me a similarly long time to organize my will. Sandy's already asked me if I've done my bit once or twice and I want to be able to say that I have. Finally.
There are always so many fucking jobs to do!
Day 7:
How would you like to improve yourself and your life next year? Is there a piece of advice or counsel you received in the past year that could guide you?My answer:
I started a weight management programme today called Gutless. It's a 10-week course delivered via webinar. I'd like to complete that and learn some behavioural techniques to help me reach my target weight of 80kg (current weight: 91.3kg). I've already lost over 10kg, but I've hit a bit of a plateau and would like to see if there's anything else I could do to reach a healthier weight. My main motivation is to reduce my QRISK, which is the risk of having a heart attack or stroke in the next 10 years. I'd also like to feel better in my own body. So I don't know what the advice is yet. I'll know in 10 weeks' time.I get a bit stuck and overwhelmed at work sometimes. Tom recommended writing down my to-do list with pen and paper. I have a digital to-do list, but that keeps getting longer. I've tried this a few times in the last few weeks and it does help to focus on trying to achieve three things in a day; anything more than that is a bonus. I do feel like a slave to my inbox sometimes: just responding to the active conversation rather than the longer-term piece of work that I agreed to do a while ago.
Day 8:
Is there something (a person, a cause, an idea) that you want to investigate more fully in the coming year?My answer:
I'd like to learn more about Philip Larkin. I've always liked his poetry since studying "Church Going" and "Faith Healing" at school. I also read him at uni. I recently listened to a radio series presented by Simon Armitage that discussed 10 of his poems in detail. I've had on my Kindle for a while a few Larkin books that I'd like to read: the primary one being the biography by Andrew Motion. There are also collections of his prose and his novel, "A Girl in Winter".I got interested in Larkin again because of his letters to Barbara Pym. (Originally, it was the other way around: I heard about Pym at uni through their correspondence.) I'm still in the midst of a Pym-obsession. It has waned somewhat since our holiday in Italy because I switched to reading other authors; and since our return I've been watching more NFL over breakfast and lunch, so haven't had as much time for reading during the day. Pym has definitely been my big interest this year.
I think I might also have finally reached the stage in life where I'm ready to read Jane Austin. She was an influence on Pym and I think my tastes have matured enough that I would actually appreciate her novels now. So, now that I've finished my List of Books to Read After Finals and feel more liberated in my reading choices, I'd like to read Larkin and Austen.
Day 9:
What is a fear that you have and how has it limited you? How do you plan on letting it go or overcoming it in the coming year?My answer:
I'm sometimes afraid to express what I'm thinking and feeling to Fran. I'm worried that it would upset her or she'd take offence or take it the wrong way, or doesn't want the feedback. I'm conflict-averse. It's limited me because sometimes my reticence is a problem in itself: she can tell when something's wrong and it causes a bit of an atmosphere between us. I don't know if I plan on letting it go or overcoming it, but the very act of writing about it here means she is likely to find out about it by this time next year.Take last night, for example: during the day I brought in from the garage our final four jars of Fattoria pasta sauce. I mentioned this to Fran when she got home in the hope that she would use them when making pasta and sauce for dinner. Sometimes, when we have tomatoes to use up, she makes her own sauce with tomatoes, onion, and olives. For my taste, this isn't always as saucy as I would like it - particularly when we're having pasta parcels (ravioli). I also think our homegrown tomatoes are a bit bland and tasteless (particularly compared to the Isle of Wight tomatoes when they're in season), which doesn't help.
She actually asked me yesterday, when I peered into the pan, if I wanted her to use the tomato sauce. Of course I did, but I didn't say so because I didn't want to offend her and make her think that I didn't like her sauce. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I end up hurting my feelings and creating an awkward situation; and also not getting what I want. I should have just said: please use one of the Fattoria sauces and add fresh tomatoes to it. That's what I wanted, but I didn't have the confidence to ask for it; I tried to get there with subtle inference, which didn't work.
I also think that I don't really have the right to criticize or give feedback when she does so much of the cooking. I actually think I'm quite good at pasta and sauce (and cooking generally), but (particularly on a Monday night in NFL season, when I have "Sunday Night Football" to watch and the bins to put out), it doesn't make sense for me to cook.
We have a good share of the domestic labour, I think; but we also have relatively inflexible jobs that I don't like to delegate because a) I like them done a certain way and b) because I always do them, Fran doesn't have the experience and therefore might not do them to my standards or know how to do them properly. I always feel bad when I give negative or constructive feedback. I don't want her to feel she's not good enough. We just have different standards and different ways of doing things. It's a silly catch-22.
How can I overcome this? I've been wondering whether we need to have regular (weekly?) "state of the union" meetings where we can openly discuss issues like this without fear of hurt or reprisal. It needs to be a safe space where we communicate openly. I should probably look up what the agenda should be (I've seen something like this online). I want to feel secure enough to say what I think and feel. I want to feel safe in the knowledge that I can have and share these thoughts. I want them to make our relationship stronger. But I'm afraid that this kind of openness would be damaging. Maybe I'll suggest trying something like this.
Day 10:
When September 2026 rolls around and you receive your answers to your 10Q questions, how do you think you'll feel? What do you think/hope might be different about your life and where you're at as a result of thinking about and answering these questions?My answer:
I don't expect my life will be much different as a result of thinking about and answering these questions. Perhaps Fran and I will have started regular state of the union conversations. I also hope that work will feel less hectic this time next year, but I think that's a seasonal thing rather than anything I've brought upon myself. I will also know if my Gutless weight management programme has helped me lose a bit more weight and change some of my behaviours.I will, as always, feel some gratitude for my past self for persisting with this tradition of self-reflection at a time of year that is quite demanding. It is a natural turning point in the year, a new year (academically) but also seasonally. It's clear why there are religious festivals at this time of year. It's a time to reap the harvest and reflect on how things have grown; a time to start new habits and drop old ones; a time to return to work with renewed focus.
I'll be interested to note if I managed to read Larkin and Austen, as I've said I want to. Will I also have worked my way through all of Barbara Pym's novels? I also hope Tom is still with us and is in good health. What will his life be like without all the hospital appointments?
I don't anticipate any major changes at work. But who knows what will happen?
One thing that I haven't mentioned so far was that a few months ago Fran and I discussed the possibility of moving back to Scotland at some point. We didn't put a date on it, but I imagine it would be in 5-10 years. I got quite excited at the time: thinking of what it would be like to live back home again, closer to my parents and Richard and Zoe; close enough to attend Ayr United and Ayr RFC games. Would we get a lot more for our money when buying a house? What would our lives be like? What would Fran's job be? Would I miss the culture; or would the proximity to Glasgow and Edinburgh be plenty? We could also go to Murrayfield regularly for the Six Nations home matches. Will we be any further down the road with that sort of future planning or will it remain a pipe dream for the time being?
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