Publish a novel.
Publish poems.
Go back to New Zealand.
Make a cushion cover or wall hanging based on Wallace Stephens' "A High-Toned Old Christian Woman".
Make a luscious gothy top out of burgundy velvet and black silk.
Visit Peru.
Make bookshelves for the living room.
See the Aurora Borealis.
Grow strawberries.
Sing in an opera chorus.
Make a pair of trousers that fits perfectly.
Perform a sponsored feat (e.g. fast, marathon) for charity.
Take art classes (drawing, painting, sculpture, pottery...).
Make baklava.
Learn to scuba dive.
Meet Diana Wynne Jones.
Give creative writing classes.
Have a child.
See the sun rise on the Winter Solstice from inside the chamber of a suitably aligned prehistoric structure (e.g. Newgrange).
Do a skydive.
Give blood.
Spend time in a writer's retreat.
Plant a deciduous wood on my own land.
Go on a cookery course.
Learn to sail.
Perform a speaking part in a play.
Read À la recherche du temps perdu.
Finish, the fuck, Ulysses.
Leave employment and earn a living doing work I love.
Compete in a tennis tournament.