I am not writing today. I cleaned out the garage instead. Several months ago, on March 17th, I told you I cleaned out the basement. What I didn’t tell you was I just moved the stuff from the basement to the garage. The boxes have been in my garage for 64 days laughing at me when I toss the empty milk jugs into the recycle bin. The boxes taunt me when I take out the lawn mower. “You will never park your car in the garage again. You can not clean up this mess. You will always be messy. Who are you trying to fool. You are burdened by me, but I won’t leave. ”
I was too embarrassed to photograph both sides of the garage. I didn’t want you to see how totally messy I was. The after picture shows both sides.
Memorial Day our neighbors had a yard sale. I climbed the mountain of dread and moved all the boxes from the garage onto the driveway early Monday, and had a yard sale as well. Everything that didn’t sell, was bagged and taken to a thrift store that afternoon. Okay, not everything, the dog kennel I will put on Craigslist next weekend. I don’t want to pretend to be perfect. This morning, I didn’t write. I taped up the flattened boxes and placed them by the curb. Swept the garage, and hung the bikes.
I tried to sell the crib ends and the wheel from the wheel chair I told you I didn’t want anymore . I never did get rid of them on March 17th, I just put them in the garage with the boxes. I was hoping someone would fall in love with them and buy them at the yard sale yesterday. No one bought them. I tried to place them in the garbage pile today for tomorrows pick up. They looked so forlorn and lost in the garbage pile. They are back in the basement. Who knows when I might need the wood from the crib ends, or need a wheel from a wheelchair. I have decided it is okay to have a few odd things in my life.
I can not hear the boxes anymore. The boxes are empty, flattened and waiting by the curb to be recycled in tomorrow’s garbage. It is raining and I can not hear them in the rain.
The car is parked in the garage. I will write tomorrow, but not today.
My husband just said to me, as I was about to post this story about not writing today. “If you had told me Saturday night I would be parking my car in the garage Tuesday night I would have openly mocked you. I would have said, “You are full of baloney.”
I was about to flatten him and put him out in the rain with the cardboard, when he said, ‘That is so cool Pamela. I really appreciate what you did.”
He can stay.