The garage SCARES me
Feb. 23rd, 2003 07:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kyburgAs well it might.
I have a one-car garage as part of my condo, and it has never had a car sit in it. I moved here in 1988, and never parked a car in the garage.
It's full of stuff. And as anyone can tell you, I <3 stuff.
But, March 9th, we move! Likely, everything will move into storage while we complete escrow on another property and we move into something temporary (oh, like Candlewood Suites or something like it).
So I'd better not be storing suckage...dig? Shit is shit, but when it costs money to store, my other self rears her ugly head.
I'm cheap.
Ghaaad, I MUST have been Asian in my last life.
The garage has been where Life has gone when I couldn't paw through it to figure out what parts I needed to keep or to throw away.
It has layers like a stinky-ass onion.
At the bottom, there is the stuff Cliff and I brought when me moved in here. Then the stuff we stored when we went to Switzerland in 1991...then the stuff I moved out there when jobs ended, Cliff's life ended and when Jim came out to live with me.
And the swatches. Oh GHAAAD, how could I leave those *&^%$#@! swatches out of this?
Lessee if I can get this in under 25 words. I worked for a company that made men's neckties for three years. The factory was on the top floor of the building, the computer room was on the ground floor - I used to say nobody had better commit a murder or anything where we would leave fibers behind, because we ALL dragged silk fibers behind us. Constantly. Imported silk fibers. And they made sample books three or four times a year, and cut down tons of the stuff into nice little blocks. They threw the excess away - until I asked for them.
I have boxes of swatches. It's been three years...but they are still gorgeous, still cut into perfect quilt block sizes...and I want to keep them.
Also, there is a piano, a club chair, a dresser and a high-boy out in that garage. All of them were given to me. All need to be restored before they can be used. The piano, I have tagged Jim with managing. I get the furniture.
It's in the "stored before going to Switzerland in 1991 layer."
At 8:30AM yesterday, I prepared myself for battle and dug in.
Jim is at school - CEC time. So while he is at the Hilton in Pasadena getting taught, fed pasta with portobello mushrooms and the like - I am getting FILTHY pulling boxes out of the way, then dragging these pieces of furniture out of the garage, and loading them onto the truck.
Yup, by myself. RAR! BIG MAN STRONG GIRL RARRR!
(Big strong girl DOPE went over a bump too quickly and the high-boy jumped out of the back of the truck - it's not a total job, but damn if I didn't almost have them there in one piece! DAMN!)
Why restore the pieces...they are easily 90 years old, unique and lovely pieces...and they were given to me. Their worst problem is two layers of icky aqua paint, likely leaded in the bargain. I'll get the pictures up when they're done.
The pieces went to two different furniture restorers - and then I went home, and took a half-hour break. Oh, and stopped at Arby's for a beef & cheddar. Time - 11:30 AM.
I then went back out to go through the boxes. And began pitching things either into the back of the truck to go to Goodwill, or to the dumpster.
Lots of stuff went to the dumpster. The boxes full of legal pads from Coca-Cola and Superba. The porcelain dolls I was working on when we moved here in 1989 were packed in styrofoam peanuts and cedar blocks. The dolls are in the house where I'll assess and repack them. A coffee service in stonewear needs to get out of its packing box, washed and repacked. A cast-iron dutch oven needs to have the rust scrubbed off and be reseasoned.
I found a box of Cliff's notes from his last job. And some EPROMS. I tossed the notes, kept the proms...nobody uses those anymore, do they? Fucking history. You guys visiting out here for Anime Expo, note the changeable message signs in Anaheim on Katella, Harbor Blvds - those are Cliff's. And I have the first generation of EPROMS for the software. I found more loose foreign coins. Books. Odds and ends. I finally caved and made an open box to hold both those items until I can repack them.
The backpack I wanted to give to Andre. A basket from Cliff's memorial service that held some mementos. I might have to make a Fort Knox box for that stuff. You know what a Fort Knox box is, don't you? Any kid worth her salt has one of these - it's where you put your treasures.
A can of soup and one of tuna from the box packed from Superba.
I put myself in a hot bath and was done before Jim got home at 4:30 PM. Half the garage is done.
Today, I have Jim to help me with the king-size waterbed he brought with him from St. Louis (it's toast) and then the other half of the boxes stored in the garage.
But I'm bruised in stripes and last night I dreamed I went searching for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silverkun to fix me, I was so broken. Even the bottoms of my feet hurt.
That was a strange dream - people I knew, mixed with archetypes that resembled people I knew, and we were travelling someplace, whether for school, con or job, I don't know.
This morning, I am sore, but functional and want brunch. I also went out to Amazon and put a whole bunch more stuff on pre-order for May.
More stuff.
*sigh* Someone convince me that one change of clothes, a bowl of rice and a nomadic life is better - right now, it won't be much of a battle.
I have a one-car garage as part of my condo, and it has never had a car sit in it. I moved here in 1988, and never parked a car in the garage.
It's full of stuff. And as anyone can tell you, I <3 stuff.
But, March 9th, we move! Likely, everything will move into storage while we complete escrow on another property and we move into something temporary (oh, like Candlewood Suites or something like it).
So I'd better not be storing suckage...dig? Shit is shit, but when it costs money to store, my other self rears her ugly head.
I'm cheap.
Ghaaad, I MUST have been Asian in my last life.
The garage has been where Life has gone when I couldn't paw through it to figure out what parts I needed to keep or to throw away.
It has layers like a stinky-ass onion.
At the bottom, there is the stuff Cliff and I brought when me moved in here. Then the stuff we stored when we went to Switzerland in 1991...then the stuff I moved out there when jobs ended, Cliff's life ended and when Jim came out to live with me.
And the swatches. Oh GHAAAD, how could I leave those *&^%$#@! swatches out of this?
Lessee if I can get this in under 25 words. I worked for a company that made men's neckties for three years. The factory was on the top floor of the building, the computer room was on the ground floor - I used to say nobody had better commit a murder or anything where we would leave fibers behind, because we ALL dragged silk fibers behind us. Constantly. Imported silk fibers. And they made sample books three or four times a year, and cut down tons of the stuff into nice little blocks. They threw the excess away - until I asked for them.
I have boxes of swatches. It's been three years...but they are still gorgeous, still cut into perfect quilt block sizes...and I want to keep them.
Also, there is a piano, a club chair, a dresser and a high-boy out in that garage. All of them were given to me. All need to be restored before they can be used. The piano, I have tagged Jim with managing. I get the furniture.
It's in the "stored before going to Switzerland in 1991 layer."
At 8:30AM yesterday, I prepared myself for battle and dug in.
Jim is at school - CEC time. So while he is at the Hilton in Pasadena getting taught, fed pasta with portobello mushrooms and the like - I am getting FILTHY pulling boxes out of the way, then dragging these pieces of furniture out of the garage, and loading them onto the truck.
Yup, by myself. RAR! BIG MAN STRONG GIRL RARRR!
(Big strong girl DOPE went over a bump too quickly and the high-boy jumped out of the back of the truck - it's not a total job, but damn if I didn't almost have them there in one piece! DAMN!)
Why restore the pieces...they are easily 90 years old, unique and lovely pieces...and they were given to me. Their worst problem is two layers of icky aqua paint, likely leaded in the bargain. I'll get the pictures up when they're done.
The pieces went to two different furniture restorers - and then I went home, and took a half-hour break. Oh, and stopped at Arby's for a beef & cheddar. Time - 11:30 AM.
I then went back out to go through the boxes. And began pitching things either into the back of the truck to go to Goodwill, or to the dumpster.
Lots of stuff went to the dumpster. The boxes full of legal pads from Coca-Cola and Superba. The porcelain dolls I was working on when we moved here in 1989 were packed in styrofoam peanuts and cedar blocks. The dolls are in the house where I'll assess and repack them. A coffee service in stonewear needs to get out of its packing box, washed and repacked. A cast-iron dutch oven needs to have the rust scrubbed off and be reseasoned.
I found a box of Cliff's notes from his last job. And some EPROMS. I tossed the notes, kept the proms...nobody uses those anymore, do they? Fucking history. You guys visiting out here for Anime Expo, note the changeable message signs in Anaheim on Katella, Harbor Blvds - those are Cliff's. And I have the first generation of EPROMS for the software. I found more loose foreign coins. Books. Odds and ends. I finally caved and made an open box to hold both those items until I can repack them.
The backpack I wanted to give to Andre. A basket from Cliff's memorial service that held some mementos. I might have to make a Fort Knox box for that stuff. You know what a Fort Knox box is, don't you? Any kid worth her salt has one of these - it's where you put your treasures.
A can of soup and one of tuna from the box packed from Superba.
I put myself in a hot bath and was done before Jim got home at 4:30 PM. Half the garage is done.
Today, I have Jim to help me with the king-size waterbed he brought with him from St. Louis (it's toast) and then the other half of the boxes stored in the garage.
But I'm bruised in stripes and last night I dreamed I went searching for
silverkun to fix me, I was so broken. Even the bottoms of my feet hurt.That was a strange dream - people I knew, mixed with archetypes that resembled people I knew, and we were travelling someplace, whether for school, con or job, I don't know.
This morning, I am sore, but functional and want brunch. I also went out to Amazon and put a whole bunch more stuff on pre-order for May.
More stuff.
*sigh* Someone convince me that one change of clothes, a bowl of rice and a nomadic life is better - right now, it won't be much of a battle.
