Closing Time
It is five in the afternoon and Dennis and I have showered and closed down for the day.
I finished up quilting Megan’s quilt yesterday afternoon and I kept hearing noise outside. When I shut all the lights off in the sewing studio and came up the stairs, I looked out the back door. There was a collection of garage tables out in the drive. Dennis was cleaning house. This wasn’t a “lick and a promise” type of cleaning. It was down to the nitty gritty corner cleaning. As it was Dennis had wore himself out for a Monday and the cleaning would continue on Tuesday.
Continue this morning . . . it sure did. I heard him get up at five-thirty. When I got up at seven-thirty there was hardy a square foot of bare concrete showing on the drive. The car was sitting at the end of the drive. Snuggles was sitting in the middle of the totally bare garage as if wondering . . . “Are we moving? Am I coming with?” I was getting myself up and organized and Dennis was heading for his recliner for a nap. Where naps are concerned, Dennis knows best.
About nine-thirty the two of us were in sync. We both tackled the sifting and sorting that was in the drive. We did have to disappoint two drive-bys that there was no garage sale going on. It was humid out and soon everyone was sweating. We persevered. Blowing out the interior of the garage came first from top to bottom until the battery was dead. Out came the length of garden hose and the brushes and we tackled the walls and floor. There were many breaks that were had. The recycling bin is full as is the garbage bin. Quite a few things found themselves back into the potting shed where they had hence come from. It’s so easy to drag items out to use and then plop them in the garage when we are done with them. Dennis did caution that I needed to be careful how much went into the potting shed as that was the next item to be gutted. Please, people . . . pray that Dennis will wait for cooler temps.
My thought is . . . I need to monitor Dennis’ vitamin drink that he takes every afternoon.
No monitoring is needed. Dennis is feeling in good health and there is nothing more satisfying than a good day of local effort. Younger than us could have whipped this out by ten this forenoon. It takes the two of us longer but the goal is out there . . . just like the carrot that would have been held just beyond reach of the mule, Fanny, that Dennis tells about from farming days.