It's admittedly not very good, but this piano song I taught myself is the definition of, "Well, I did my best"

Terry bought me a Yamaha keyboard for Christmas, and I just love it.

Well, technically, I bought it for myself and we said it would be from her, but the result is the same.

Here's the thing, though: I can't play the piano. I mean, I can figure out simple tunes with my right hand. But actual two-handed songs with chords and such? It's not happening.

I lack the talent, the patience, and the finger length to do it. Plus, bass clef and I simply don't get along.

I have several Facebook friends who are wonderfully talented piano players. I admire (and envy) them. I will never be able to match them.

I mention all of this as context for the personal triumph that is teaching myself to play Beethoven's "Für Elise," a song that requires the use of both the left and right hands.

Now, when I say "teaching myself to play," you have to understand that my definition of that is getting from the beginning of the song to the end without crashing and burning. It does not imply that I'm going to get everything right, nor indeed that the melody I play will really match the original.

The video above of me playing "Für Elise" is full of issues that would make a piano teacher cringe.

For one thing, I know my finger positioning is incorrect. And several times I hit the left hand keys too hard, giving the bass notes far more oomph than Herr Beethoven would have intended.

Then there's the unfortunate pause in the middle of the song as I temporarily lose my bearings and try to get my fingers on the correct keys.

And of course the left-hand note I completely miss near the end of the song.

I also freely admit that the little right-hand-only breaks in the middle of the tune do not match the original. Those for sure don't align with what Beethoven wrote. I'm pretty much just making those parts up.

In short, it's a mess.

But it's my mess, and I learned to do it all on my own.

I know I sound like an 8-year-old who just figured out how to multiply two-digit numbers, but I'm inordinately proud of this recording for two reasons:

(1) The tune is somewhat recognizable. There was no guarantee I was ever going to get to that point...again, especially when you consider my inability to play the left-hand part of almost any other piano song.

(2) I was satisfied with doing my personal best. Normally I can't stand being anything but perfect with any task to which I set my mind, but in this case I learned to be happy with my wonky version of an iconic classical melody (one that any semi-competent pianist can play with ease). I tried, and this is the result...mistakes and all.

I've been informed that I need to stop biting so deeply into my apples that I strew seeds around the house

I love apples. Gala apples. I've mentioned this fact before.

I love them so much that I often eat right into (and sometimes through) the core.

This is potentially hazardous for a number of reasons, not least of which is that it exposes the seeds and allows them to fall out of the apple and onto our floor.

You can tell I've recently been in any given part of the house simply by counting the number of apple seeds on the floor.

I don't leave them there intentionally, but sometimes (many times) they escape my notice.

They do not, however, escape Terry's notice.

She has told me that (a) I can leave a little apple on the core and throw it away when I'm finished, rather than biting into the very middle, and (b) In any case, I need to stop leaving seeds all over the place.

The latter instruction is perfectly reasonable. I'm trying my best to comply.

But leaving even a few molecules of sweet, tasty, Gala apple goodness on the core and tossing it away? That's blasphemy. I will do no such thing.

Marriage is about compromise. But I will not compromise my adoration for the greatest fruit God put on earth for our collective enjoyment.

At some point you have to draw the line.