Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

Working from home means I spend every day with Mr. Ginley. While this is mostly a good thing, it is nice to have "me" time. 

So when our son whisked Mr. off to help work a sporting event, I was tickled. A day to myself. Whatever would I do?

As it turned out, work, mostly. I took on all the tasks that I'd been putting off because I was persuaded they could wait.

First off, I put the storm window in the basement. Next, I tackled yard work. Three bags of yard waste and a sore back later, I called it a day. (After I put the grill in the basement. No more cookouts this year, alas.)

To reward myself for my labors, I watched a Hallmark holiday movie. My sister, Diane, observed there are a few different types. One is the travelogue, as we experienced last week, watching A Heidelberg Holiday. The title character was Heidi Heidelberg. (I shit you not.) The scenery was breathtaking, and it was surprisingly well done. The one I watched yesterday was based in Colorado, called, appropriately enough, Christmas in Colorado. The acting was pretty bad, but I like horses, so there was that. 

Moving along...the next thing to tackle was the budget. I balanced the checkbook (yes, I still do that religiously) and paid some bills. That's when I remembered I was supposed to bake a pumpkin pie. The one I failed to make on Thanksgiving because, honestly, it was a bridge too far that day. I started with a frozen crust (my sister, Denise, is the crustmaster in our family), so it was in the oven pretty quickly. 

Then I took on the dishes. Thanksgiving dishes. To make the task palatable, I pulled out some vinyl – specifically, the Beatles' White Album – and listened to it from start to finish. (Skipping over Revolution No. 9, which I will never listen to when home alone because it just creeps me out.) The double album serenaded me through Christmas tree decorating. I cranked up the volume and sang right along, thankful no one had to suffer through my caterwauling. (I mean, it doesn't bother me, I'm used to it.) I figure I'll know when I'm losing it when I forget Beatles' lyrics – and we're talking about ALL the lyrics, not just those to Wild Honey Pie and Why Don't We Do it in the Road. 

It all worked out quiet nicely, as the boys pulled up in the driveway just as the strains of 
Good Night were weaving their way through the airwaves. (It's the last song on the White Album.)

Sure, and you're probably thinking it doesn't sound like a great day spent alone, but I was content. I got a lot accomplished and fed my spirit to boot.

Special thanks to John, Paul, George & Ringo.  I hope we passed the audition.

Photo attribution: Marjory Collins, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons