Dennis and I could do a polka in our garages this evening. Naw . . . that’s not going to happen. We wouldn’t be able to pick our feet up high enough. It started out looking for a plier. It ended up having the entire surface of the workbench in the car garage being cleared. A wastebasket was close at hand. We touched, we looked, we sorted, we sifted and we pitched. That methodology continued on all four walls. We took a break for lunch. Not much for quick choices, so we decided on oatmeal. It worked.
Cleaning the floor was a challenge as the north wind was very strong. We closed everything up and I swept and brushed debris into a shovel and then into a bin. When we knew there was nothing left large enough to clog up the vacuum hose, we vacuumed. The ole cowboy gets very annoyed when I pick up leaves and they don’t cooperate and get sucked up and down into the canister. Yuck for silt that was as fine as powder once it was aggravated.
When the car garage was done, I was ready to shower so I could run some errands that needed to be done TODAY! Dennis was parked in his rocking chair totally enjoying the view through clean windows. I came back out and suggested one more item as long as we were grubby . . . cleaning the floor of the pickup garage. Coming in off of a gravel surface, it was thick. A mixture of gravel, clay, snow that had melted off of the pickup that had salt included in the snow melt . . . big time mess. Again closing everything up, it was shovel first, vacuum second and garden hose third.
Dennis’ comment as squeaky clean me was heading for the errands, “I can’t figure out how people our age complain about being bored.” My thought, “Honey, they aren’t married to Raymond and Lena’s child.”