The garage was and remains a one-car affair with my wife having the privilege of parking in it. She started work earlier in the day than me so it was the right thing to do. I was granted “tool rights” however and that was really not in anyone’s best interest though we didn’t realize it until too late.
I put in a workbench and proceeded to litter that and the shelves beneath with stuff. You know what “stuff” is, don’t you? It’s what you buy, use once then put on a wall or a shelf and forget you own it. It’s something bought but never used for it was acquired irrationally at a hardware store that was having a sale. It’s something given to you by a well-meaning friend or relative and the garage seems the best place for it since the attic is already crowded.
Anyway, the “stuff” began to build up layer after layer. Inches of wall unused by anyone for anything became fair game for stacking whatever. No square inch was too sacred to remain de-cluttered.
So, Dear Viewer, my garage has become a resting place for “stuff” and things are getting out of hand. My wife can still get in and out of the car but I need to inhale deeply. Just the other day I had to hoof a half-empty bag of cement down to the backyard shed so I could get the snow thrower out.
A kindly neighbor has offered to help clean it out. Come spring he’ll buy some GARAGE SALE signs.