Staying home affords numerous luxuries, however infrequently I convince myself to partake in them. Laundry and folding and Studio 360 podcasts. Yarn crafts and Desert Island Discs or On Being podcasts. Baking. Movies screened on a window shade draped over our wooden clothes dryer, via the fancy hi-tech projector. Hand quilting and talking dreams and desires with my partner. Dancing alone to many fabulous vinyl albums, played scritch-scratch free on a stereo I’ve had since age eleven.
Staying home is also fairly cheap. Being out means dinners out and, for my partner, gas usage as his car eats up the miles between work, band practice, and game nights. Me, I’m more likely to fall victim to some gift item I NEED to purchase for friend or family. Similar, the compulsion to purchase things to be creative with, instead of using what I have, which is plenty.
It’s hard. The world beckons and I itch to follow the whistle.
Lovely are the moments when I can ignore the piper. (Bet you wondered where that analogy was going.)