Sometimes you can solve a problem by solving another problem first. You have to sneak up on your problem so it doesn’t see you coming.
One problem I have is I can never find anything I need in the basement, even though every tool I might ever want is down there somewhere, some in triplicate. It’s a clustermuck. So I need to muck it out. This dispirits me, a problem I solve by closing the door to the basement.
Another problem is I’ve felt remiss that I have not adequately prepared for our big earthquake. Because I have not at all prepared for our big earthquake. This should have made me feel unprepared, but apparently I don’t adequately care about that. It did make me feel like a spoiled citizen, though, one who intends to rely on banked karma to see me through a disaster, and that’s really not a village virtue.
So I bought a set of ten stacking Waterbricks, each capable of holding 3.5 gallons of water. Brought them in off the porch. Put the box in my living room for a couple of weeks, vaguely alleviating my problem of remissness. Problem: someone was coming over for dinner, so I moved the box into my studio and opened it up. There they were! Bricks! Awesome. I folded the top back over them.
New problem: I had a rumply area rug that needed flattinating, and I thought: if I fill these bricks up with water, I can put them on the rug.
The instructions insisted I shake a bleach solution in them for a few minutes first and then rinse them out good and let them dry completely before filling them. So yeah. It was another week before all that happened. And finally they were on my rug, flattinating it.
For a couple weeks. I still didn’t know where they should be stored. In the house, which might be reduced to rubble in a good earthquake? Or in the shed outside, where they might freeze?
I know you don’t fill up a water bottle all the way and put it in the freezer, of course. But recently I filled one up 3/4 of the way and froze it, and the damn thing rounded the bottom anyway, so I can’t set it upright anymore. I do not want my stacking Waterbricks rounding up on me, not while I still remember what I paid for them. Then I read in the instructions that you can freeze a Waterbrick on purpose, which would be handy, I guess, if the big earthquake hits during a hot spell.
Shed it is!
Well shit. Problem. There are two doors to that shed. One of them has been stuck for twenty years. I could have pounded it open at some point, but I can reach all my little hand tools by swinging around the center post. It’s not that handy. But if I were going to store my bricks, I’d have to get it open. Fortunately there was a sledge hammer in there. I’m in, dude.
And now that I can stand on that side, I find so many things. My slip joint pliers with the blue handle! I was looking for those in the basement. I can’t remember why, but there they are. My brick hammer! My bayonet holster!
My emergency stash of hantavirus! Holy rat shit!
Problem. Rats have been partying in the closed side of the shed. I can’t imagine why. There’s nothing in there that’s good for them. I start cleaning. I’m hauling out forty-year-old bottles of poison I don’t remember ever being thoughtless enough to buy. If it stings or crawls or sends roots to China, I can kill it. This a big cleanup job. I do find what the rats may have been interested in: I had saved three abandoned chickadee nests in there, including eggs. Tiny perfect chickadee eggs. It must have been Rat High Tea. Hold your pinkie claw out, ladies and gentlemen, and be sure to poop in the corner!
I got one of my old N95 masks out. It’s marginally helpful against COVID, so maybe it will be equally barely adequate against hantavirus. I swept the place out. I lugged in the waterbricks. I put the slip joint pliers in the basement. I am ready. If I ever remember what I needed the pliers for, I’ll be all set.
Problem.
Your basement looks like my house. Your living room and shed look nothing like my living room or shed.
Saturday night after going to bed far too early and waking up thinking it was morning only to discover it was still Saturday night, I managed to trip over my new work boots on the way back to bed. Whacked my right eye on the way to the floor and now look like I have magenta eye shadow on one side. It’s slowly turning yellow and green.
That did occasion some more serious thought about clearing out the piles of stuff. Another oomph in that direction was being unable to find an item that I was sure was on the bookshelf in the bedroom/office. Nope. Still haven’t found it, not helped by the fact that it’s in a small orange box a little bit wider than a bar of soap. It could be anywhere in this house and that could mean it won’t turn up until the next time I move or when my survivors empty the house for sale.
Oh well. Happy Holidays to all of you!
It’s Christmas Eve and you just talked me into cleaning out my closet!
Thanks?!?!
Happy times to all!
After 4 house moves in little over a decade, each one ostensibly a downsizing with the requisite amount of stuff taken to a recycle/reuse site or the dump, I still have stuff stored in the current loft and garage/shed. One thing that has helped when trying to find things, like power supplies and charge leads for umpteen electronic devices, is ice cream. Not so much because it lowers my brain temperature to “thinking logically”, more because I can label the empty tubs for the respective appliances and always go straight to the correct charger. On the other hand, I have lost count of the number of times I haven’t been able to find the a particular tool in the garage despite much frantic searching, gone out and bought another one, only to find the original tool within seconds of returning. Wishing you all the best for the festive season.
Although I am a minimalist, and my home looks neat and tidy, the basement is another matter, as is a portion of the garages. My uncles were woodworkers and had a LOT of woodworking tools and equipment. Paul was into woodworking. So when we cleaned out their house after they died, guess where a lot of the tools and equipment ended up. That’s right. Here. I was able to give some of it away to a friend who does woodworking and one of his friends. But they have most everything they need. There are lots of duplicate tools down there, but I can never seem to find anything I need because Paul had a “system.” Damned if I know what it was. Looks like chaos to me. I’m sure he felt the same way about my kitchen equipment and tools, as they were always in a hidden location after he washed the dishes.
Happy holidays to Murr, Dave, and all the Murr-peeps!