IT’S THE last day for me to add the final touches to my New Year Resolutions list.

When I was younger I Šused to spend weeks thinking about them. I would ponder how best I could improve myself as a human being – there was, and still is, a lot of scope.

Every year on New Year's Eve I would compile a large list on a sheet of paper 2ft by 3ft. The poster would be hung in my bedroom or office for me to see every day

In two-inch high red felt pen, I would write down the mantras which would lead me to become my ideal person. The two inch-high capital red letters proclaimed: BE MORE PATIENT, GO TO THE GYM TWICE A WEEK, LOSE WEIGHT, BE KIND TO PEOPLE, EAT HEALTHILY, STOP SMOKING, DRINK LESS……….

ŠOn and on they went, year after year. I usually started off pretty keen, dashing off to the gym regularly, eating loads of apples, counting to 10 before I said anything, etc. But by early March, I had usually all but given up the ghost.

Several decades later, despite my best efforts, I am pretty much as I was before.

I’m neither morbidly obese nor anorexic, I manage the gym once a week if I’m lucky, I eat a mixture of junk and fruit and vegetables, I don’t spend enough time being kind to people and I’m still pretty impatient. I have had one notable success, however.

I did manage to give up smoking many years ago.

This Christmas our family was discussing our New Year resolutions. My sister, Carole, has resolved not to economise on the Christmas tree next year. After being horrified at the cost of non-drop Norway Spruces, she and husband Simon plumped for a cheaper, more traditional one this time.

Their delight at the money they had saved was short lived. At they took the new acquisition out of the now green-carpeted boot of the car, thousands more needles fell on the driveway.

By the time they had gingerly put it upright in a bucket, the hall was ankle-deep in pine needles.

When we all arrived at their Bournemouth home for Christmas the tree was all but bare, the gaudy baubles drooping sadly from the grey, spiky branches.

Their two dogs did, however, enjoy retrieving the baubles which fell on to the carpet with regular plops as the remaining needles dropped off one by one.

One family member who won’t be making any healthy eating New Year resolutions is our dad, Kenneth, who has survived for eight decades on a diet of junk and processed food.

His motto is: “If it’s green it never passes my lips” (unless you count processed peas.)

This year we had high hopes when he bought himself a George Foreman grill.

Carole and I foolishly envisioned him cooking lean steaks and chicken breasts, maybe throwing a few fresh vegetables under for good measure.

How wrong we were. He cooks sausages, processed packs of minute steaks and Cornish pasties in it. His culinary masterpiece consists of taking the Cornish pasty from the microwave to the George Foreman grill to “crisp it up”. Apparently it comes out with black stripes, but “tastes alright”.

This year, I'll be writing all of my resolutions on a Post It note.ŠBe more patient, be kind to people, eat healthily, go the gym......they are the same as before, just smaller writing.