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Despite the temperature dropping into the 30s, the sun shone brightly on New Year's Day 2009.

Following our usual New Year's tradition, one started many moons ago by friends Bob and Johnsie Hahn, husband Joe and I put on three layers of clothes and headed out for the annual New Year's hike.

Besides the two of us and Bob and Johnsie, Kittie Schlecht joined us, wearing a nifty new pink jacket with several zipped-up pockets. Hermann Trojanowski, protecting his eyes with dark shades, was also there, and Ruth Heybrock drove over from High Point, joining the Greensboro over-60 gang.

John and Diane Lynham arrived just in time. Though we see the Lynhams only a couple of times of year, we always look forward to Diane's perky personality and John's zinger puns.

The plan was simpler this year. We walked through the trail at Hamilton Lake. It's short, but scenic.

As we hiked, we passed several folks and a few dogs. Everyone smiled as if convinced 2009 would be a banner year. Loudly, we formed a chorus, shouting, "Happy New Year," to everyone and, smiling, they echoed our greeting.

Afterward, we stopped by Starbucks in Quaker Village Shopping Center. Latte and expresso scented the shop.

After pushing two tables together, we sat down and began toasting with beverage cups. "Happy New Year," erupted again, and again. We spoke of family, mentioning plans for the day.

Finally warmed by the walk, the good company, as well as the cocoa and coffee we'd imbibed, we hugged, and after declaring more wishes for a "Happy New Year," we set off on separate destinations.

At home, I wrote down my first New Year's resolution on a yellow legal pad. Take a long walk or hike every day, preferably with friends.

After Joe and I sat down to dinner, we filled our plates with traditional Southern fare: black-eyed peas and greasy collard greens. My mother believed collard greens to be symbolic of dollar bills and eating black-eyed peas meant you'd have change in your pocket during the year. If the superstition holds true, we ate enough to become millionaires in 2009.

Finding my yellow legal pad, I wrote down a second resolution: Go on a diet. Immediately.

Later that evening, we looked at recent pictures on Joe's computer. Some were from the music jam thrown by Danny Crump and Lundee Amos during the holidays. What a grand time we had.

As guests feasted on food from a groaning table, they patted their feet to the bluegrass music being played by master musicians downstairs or sang seasonable music played by musicians upstairs.

Another group of photos showed friends -- old and new -- attending the reading Dec. 18 I gave from my just published memoir at Barnes and Noble.

Joe snapped the last photos we viewed during a festive Christmas Day celebration at the home of son Joey and daughter-in-law Janet.

Picking up the yellow legal pad again, I wrote my third resolution: Be grateful, every day, especially to family and friends. Then I underlined the words three times.

Resolutions are slippery.

What did I mean by being grateful? Would simply thinking good thoughts be enough? I wondered, but then I remembered how my friend Ann Deagon had shown me and 364 other people she was grateful.

Several years ago, Ann, a Greensboro writer and musician, decided that each day of the year she would write a letter to a different person. I was elated the day I received the one she sent me. Because I greatly admired her, I felt I'd been anointed.

So, stealing Ann's idea but using current technology to make it easier, I'll e-mail a different person every day of 2009, expressing my gratitude.

The first e-mail, of course, went to my husband, Joe. I would include it for you to read, but it gets a bit mushy.

Contract Sandra Redding at sanredd@earthlink.net