Home Alone

That's me! Home alone. Whee!

Handy Husband is working, Ernest is at zoo camp, Frank broke a guitar string and has taken off to the big town to replace it. No guitar strings available in this small town, since the local music store closed a year ago.

And what am I doing?

Puttering. I have no other word for it. I drift from thing to thing. I washed the dishes. Then I remembered the mud on Ernest's shoes, so I cleaned them. When I put the shoes away, I was reminded to put my own shoes away. When I went into my closet, I found the stack of unread books had fallen over, so I sorted and restacked them. Now there is a pile to take to the used book store. While in the closet, I found things to throw away. As I was walking to the trash can, the elderly pumpkin outside caught my eye. Better throw that away too. Oh, and take out the recycling. While tying up the bag of paper, the vacuum stared at me. So I pulled it out...but I still haven't used it yet!

And all the while, trotting back to the computer to put in another CD, in my quest to copy all our CDs to an external hard drive. Why? I don't know. It seemed like a useful thing to do.

And so it goes. If you give a mouse a cookie....