a view from the laundry pile…

…it's all about perspective.

The Picky Pickersons

on April 29, 2012

We’re not sure how this happens. We clean out the garage and, within a matter of months, the piles are back. Short of dumpster diving in our sleep, we’ve no idea how it gets so full, so fast. We also keep finding things that neither of us remember having, wanting, needing, or even liking; furniture, empty boxes, bottles, lamps, a potty chair (we have no kids…unless you count the dogs, and they’re potty trained already). The only other logical explanation for this clutter conundrum is that someone is using our garage for a storage unit and hasn’t paid us yet.

Because of our schedules, we don’t always have time to get everything done that we’d like to (you know how this goes). So, after weeks of “shifting” things in the garage – right and left, up and down – in order to find and get to what we need, we finally had time to sort through it all. The “really important” things (ie: Fred’s “precious” tools…heaven help me if he ever found out I used his hammer and screwdriver to make a pretty star design in the tin can luminaries last Christmas) were moved up against the walls and the rest was tackled with gloves and garbage bags. We did manage to get rid of and/or recycle a nice chunk of it, which included a couple of boxes of “free” items. These were things that were still okay and could be used by someone – and not really worth saving for a yard sale.  So, out the boxes went to the curb. The vultures cleared out most of it within the hour, leaving a few things – enough to consolidate into one box – behind.  It sat there, untouched, for a few days when I noticed a young couple had stopped to take peek. They were picking through it, looking at each and every item, discussing them quietly and at length. There were about a half-dozen assorted Christmas craft kits, in their original bags, that were still sealed. As they started opening them, rummaging through them, and tossing them back in the box, I poked my head out the door.

“Those are all the same thing per bag. The label on the front shows you what’s inside so you don’t have to open them” I said, trying to be nice about it and smile. She looked up at me, smiled back, and nodded as if she understood what I was saying…then proceeded to open another bag. Okay, I know this was just ‘give away’ stuff but if you go and mess it up, what good would it be to anyone else?  This annoyed me. And, though I really wanted to say something, using colorful, descriptive words involving her family members and farm animals, I realized it really wasn’t worth the effort and decided just to walk away.

As I was turning to leave, I saw her hold up one of the bags…”do you have this in another color?” she asked. I had to think about this for a minute. Did she just ask me if I had a garage sale reject, put out in a free box at the edge of the lawn, in another color??  Really? 

“Let me go check” I responded. I went inside, shut the door, and started the laundry…


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