The garage is a source of contention in my household. This is a place you will never, ever be able to park your car. It seems that somehow everything that is ever brought home ends up spending at least a little of its life in the garage. Things were put on a shelf "temporarily" ten or fifteen years ago, and no one really knows when they will find a "permanent" home. So cleaning the garage is no small job. This is where I plan on doing my building, so though it is a feat, the cleaning had to be done. And because yesterday was the first beautiful, sunny day in a long time, it seemed as good a time as ever to venture into its depths. My dad and I began. I My dad has a lot of HBI's (or hair-brained ideas) and each box of old split screws and bins filled with mysterious liquids somehow related to painting or varnishing represents one of these. Each thing brings out the story of an old project, and the question of whether it will ever be finished. Mostly, it just makes a mess. We put an hour in yesterday sorting through the chaos, and I'm impressed with how far we got. There's now room enough to twirl around through the middle, as long as you don't get too carried away.
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