Garage Banned

Linda was out of town Wednesday, so that is when I planned to clean out the garage. We use the garage for storage and in the past year it has become a magnet for anything that didn't have a more logical home. As oblivious as I can be to such things, I knew it was getting out of hand.

I keep my wine in a couple of wine fridges out there, and I could only get to one of them - and then only if I moved half a dozen items ranging from suitcases to Matt's punching bag.

Being essentially a lazy person, I decided limited access was OK. I would just take from the one fridge until it was empty and then figure out what to do to get to the second later on.

Then the other day our kids scraped some paint from the wall moving a TV we don't use any more. I knew the paint to touch it up was on the far side of a jungle of cardboard boxes and toys Lily had grown out of. I thought to myself, it's just a little gouge and it's upstairs where few will see it. I decided I could wait longer.

Then the clincher. Linda decorated the Christmas tree and couldn't find the carton with the little rug thing you throw around the base and the star that goes on top. As she told me this, she also mentioned that she has storage cartons with summer clothes that she can't get to anymore. Too many omens. The Year of Living Messily was coming to a close.

I tackled the project when Linda was out of town as a surprise gift to her. OK, that's what I told her, but of course it also meant that she and I wouldn't do the project together and end up having those inevitable disagreements about where to move something or other and whether this or that is worth saving. So in that sense it was a gift to both of us.

I started by throwing out all the empty cartons that used to have wine in them. That actually cleared a fair portion of the place. Then I tackled the Museum of Ancient Luggage. For some reason we have difficulty throwing away suitcases, even when they are broken. We have about 9 suitcases with handles off, wheels broken, zippers jammed - you know, the kind that put the "lug" back in luggage.

These have all been replaced with newer suitcases so there is no earthly reason to keep them, but we have. One or both of us was always thinking we can get this repaired or replaced. Knowing that we haven't done such a thing in sixty years didn't matter. We may change our lifestyle any day now. No matter - on Sunday night the broken suitcases are going on the curb for trash pick-up.

Anyhow, I discovered that most of what was in the garage is junk and should be thrown out. Some of it - like Lily's old toys - will make good donations to a charity. What remains will be easy to get to.

I finished around 6, quite tired and dirty but ready for the praise, admiration and thankfulness LK would inevitably show me. However, soon after I finished with my shower, she rang to tell me that she had had a rotten day and to top things off her flight had been canceled and she would be moved to a much later flight.

When she finally arrived home, she was exhausted and her mood was sour. When I showed her the garage, I think she knew she should praise me. But she was too tired, and even though she tried her best about all she could muster was the equivalent of "That's nice, dear".

The next day she was much more appreciative, but by then I had slept and awakened with what seemed an extreme number of aches and pains in my shoulders, arms, back and legs. A day-late attaboy wasn't going to do much to fix my mood. On the other hand, that 15-year-old shiraz in the second fridge might go a long way toward helping.