Don't forget to clean out the garage. At my house, the garage is a place where things go to prepare to die. It’s like the stopping ground before a final death. The weigh station before the graveyard. The hospice, like Denver International Airport. It’s for things we aren’t quite ready to part with, things that we might have some use for down the road and would be devastated, I imagine, if we could not find it in the garage when this immediate and urgent need arose. Of course, I can’t ever recall going out to the garage to find a stored item that I really, really needed to use at that very moment but if I needed it, it would be there.
Like a kitchen chair that came with a table and 5 other chairs but doesn’t fit in our kitchen space. It’s been living in the garage for 7 years. My husband pleaded with me, as I ferociously marched this kitchen chair to the curb, to return the chair to its rightful spot in the garage. His rationale was someday in the future we might want to give away our kitchen table, along with its 5 remaining chairs, and our lucky recipient would be horrified to discover the set did not come with 6 chairs. Oh, contraire, sugar bear. Our lucky recipient would be thrilled with the set of 4 chairs and one bonus chair that she can store in the garage.
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