Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Where the bodies are buried

As some of you know we live in the family home due to His father being disabled. Some think we got the short straw, the other two siblings fled as far away as they could, but to be honest one loves living in a family home... especially as we have self contained living and entertainment areas. There is always the thing you need between two pantries and someone to take washing off the line if the weather changes... and things in His mother's biscuit tins... and grandma does scones every Sunday... Bliss!

This state of perfection does not extend to the garage.

The garage is one of the few things we share other than a fence... and it is a large garage. Large enough an area that He is currently setting it up as a more permanent photographic studio... rather than the temporary seasonal one it has always been. So in between running around like mad things getting lights, one of which turned out to be faulty and had to be returned today, and a couple of extra backdrops and poles, and waiting on things that haven't turned up yet, one small slave has been tasked with the garage.

Now most people who have lived in any place for any length of time have stuff that accumulates in the garage. This garage has two families who moved their collective shit from other houses into the aforementioned facility. For fourteen years now we have parked cars and scuttled out of there as fast as possible... preferably before something falls down and we have to actually tackle any of it in a meaningful way. Of course none of this process has been aided by the fact that He and his family have a shared squirrel gene... honestly they come out of the womb crying it might come in handy.

So let us examine some of the little finds that have been unearthed so far... and the reasons for their continued existence shall we?

One pair of ornamental garden lamps that belonged to the ex...
Well His sister wants them, but I don't think she should have them with a small child... they use candles and honestly I don't trust him (the son in law) to keep a close enough eye on her (the grandchild) that she doesn't end up burning the place down.
So we can get rid of them?
Well no, His sister wants them...
Head/ desk

Two generations of Playboy magazines...
Oh someone might want them.
Yes and how are we going to get in touch with these mysterious people?
I don't know, but they are perfectly good magazines.
Head/ desk

A collection of pillows wrapped in plastic...
She (the daughter in law) left those when they went to America.
Um... the only one using them is the cat.
Yes, but the cat needs something to sleep on.
Yeah not any more... small vindictive smile.

This is why the vile beast is currently curled up asleep on His photographic equipment L
Hate that cat!
None too fond of the garage neither...

4 comments:

littlemonkey said...

I have my little ten by five foot domain right outside the kitchen door, for the washer, dryer,and a shelving unit. Outside of that tiny realm, the garage does not exist for me. I studiously ignore it. If I pretend it isn't there, it can't get me. It does tend to exhibit the characteristics of a black hole. Things go in, and they never come out.

pepper said...

Having grown up with a hoarder for a Mom, i've gone completely to the other end of the spectrum. i throw things away left and right, willy-nilly one might say....and then two weeks later i'm scratching my head wondering where the damn thing is...good thing indeed that Master is a minimalist!

At least that's what i tell myself.

Master's piece said...

@littlemonkey You know what we may have is not a black hole, but a worm hole. Our garages could be linked :(

Vixen4770 said...

I don't touch the garage. Ever... Not my place, not my stuff, not my problem. But then again, it's a battle of epic proportions if I ever want to store stuff out there :(