Cleaning

We’re spending the next couple of weeks with my parents as we get our floors redone. The dog is confused—she’s used to staying there when we go away, so every time I come back from an errand I get the “You again?” look. It’s like having the teens home.

In preparation for the work, we had to clean out most of the house so the furniture could be more easily moved. We also cleaned out the garage because, hey, it looked like a war zone and I made it into our “fun couple’s project” while the teens are away.

So my dining room is stored in my bedroom, my family room is stored in my daughter’s room (shhh, don’t tell her!) and my living room is stored in my basement. There are various items stored in the office as well. And now that the floor guys moved the furniture, there are random furniture items stored in the newly cleaned garage. Lucky for us we emptied it out. 

I spent a good deal of time making fun of all the things that my husband wanted to save, which probably was not great thinking on my part:

1)  He did the majority of the lifting, I really just pointed, which means he would have been justified to just stop at any time (but he didn’t);

2)  I screamed at the bugs;

3)  The last time I cleaned out the garage, I used a leaf blower to clean out the dirt—there is still dust over everything;

4)  And even I am sentimental about some things we kept, like a wheelbarrow.

But he was an excellent sport, knowing I needed the physical activity to keep my mind off things, and got rid of way more than he probably wanted. Some day, those things will probably come in handy, saving me a trip to the store to re-buy it. So, sorry honey! 

The bonus, which gave me great pleasure, was leaving our “junk” for others. In fact, a landscaper stopped by and was thrilled with all of the yard equipment we were getting rid of simply because we don’t use it anymore. 

And somewhere, someone is enjoying a pogo stick!