Yeah, time got away from me yesterday. It was laundry day and guess what? I managed to put my own laundry into my own vee-hickle without incident. Also grokkery shopping as I have been press ganged into making lasagne. Oh, not that I wouldn’t have hit up Meijer anyway since I was in town and almost always have a list. Prepped lasagne sauce yesterday afternoon and ended the day with another adventure of porterization and by that time I was done done done.

The GG has been in Suzy Homemaker mode (and yer fav-o-rite blahgger to a lesser degree). Yesterday he washed windows. The day before he took “everything” (more or less) out of the garatchky, swept it and put back *some* of the stuff. Okay, a lot of the stuff but I believe there are a few items headed for the Kiwanis sale.

I am ecstatic that he is willing to work on the garatchky. I do not dooooo well with sorting garatchky kinds of crapola. Botes and motors and gasoline and any number of random things. The garatchky was our main staging area for the stuff left behind after the Commander left the building. Anything that didn’t get directly donated or trucked down to megalopolis was left in the garatchky for later sorting and distribution. I could manage to work on books and kitchenware, etc. but that stuff is down to a bare minimum now and I can’t get back on a roll with sorting the remaining bits and pieces. This is the kind of prodject perfectly suited to the GG.

For many years we did not have a garage. Botes that couldn’t over-winter outside went *inside* the moomincabin at the end of the season, making closing and opening the place more difficult. The garage was my brother’s idea and some of us were not particularly enthusiastic about it. If I’d had my druthers, we’d have built a bunk/bath house instead. Alas, that would’ve involved plumbing and the parents did not want to mess around with that.

I loved my brother but I’m not sure how amicably we could have shared this place. But I have long since made peace with the garage. After dad died, the Commander once began a little lament, “We have a garage…” I thought for about a split-second. I thought about how easy it was to store botes and other paraphernalia. I thought about how the garage provided 2-3 extra parking places (we had something like nine vee-hickles here that weekend). I said, “Yes, we have a garage. And that’s a good thing.”

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