Trick or Treat
The neighborhood trick or treating had barely been completed for a full minute before the candy, which had been sitting quietly in a silver salad bowl by the door not hurting nobody, was whisked away to the kitchen table, its contents poured across the cloth, and sorted.
That's what we do in this house. We sort things. Right before we eat them.
Mary enjoyed her assigned post of attending to the door, opening it when the doorbell rang, laughing, ooh-ing and ah-ing over the absolutely adorable costumes worn by the little children who now infest our neighborhood (including the one dressed as the snowman from Frozen who attempted to actually come into our house; apparently he does not yet understand that trick or treating is performed on the front porch of a stranger's house and not in their living room).
Although we enjoyed the spectacle of costumes, we were quite pleased when the time had come to close the door and turn out the light and retire to the back of the house where we could hide in obscurity and devour the remnants of our offering.
We went simple this year. Tootsie Rolls of numerous flavors, always a crowd-pleaser, and a few Tootsie Pops. Minimum of fuss, no controversy. Just a simple candy that rots their teeth and then enough stickiness to rip them out of their mouths. A real dentist's fantasy.
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Defeated
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This is the look of Defeat.
Serenity has been sitting in the driveway for the past year or so patiently waiting for me to find the time to fix her. But, alas, there was no time this year for such things, what with all the basement work going on. So she simply sat. And (literally) gathered moss. And rusted.
Finally, with the thought of the approaching winter heavily on my mind, it was time to put her away again, back into the third bay where she spent so many unproductive months last year, being ignored. Because of the basement. And other things.
So I pulled out my rope and my pulleys and hooked her up and pulled her non-working carcass back into the third bay (after emptying it of everything in the way).
And shut the door to the Man Cave.
And felt incredibly sad.
Because another year has gone by.
And she gets older.
And I get older.
And neither one of us is getting into shape.
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Junk
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There was a lot of junk sitting in the third bay that had to get out of the way before I could move Serenity into her winter quarters ("dry-dock").
There was no place else to put it except the second bay.
So now the second bay is all jammed up with junk. Some of it I'll need to keep. But much of it is just junk that needs to go.
I have a hard time getting rid of the scrap lumber. There's lots of really good lumber in there. Two-by-fours, two-by-threes, two-by-twos, one-by-twos. Scraps of plywood, drywall. Even a door-sized mirror.
I just don't have any room for it. It all has to go.
I'll try to get rid of some of it down at the Habitat for Humanity drop-off. But they are getting pretty picky about what they take. I tried to take the mirrored door there, but they won't take it if there's any defects (and there's a small crack at the bottom). And they won't take used drywall (obviously). They might take some of the two-by-fours, but only the eight footers.
The thought of just taking it to the dump galls me. But that may be the only solution at this point. No one else wants a bunch of slightly used construction scrap.
I even thought about sitting out on the back deck and just burning it in our outdoor oven. But what a waste that would be.
If I was living out in the country, I'd put it in my pole barn or my shed or something, and next time I got an idea for a little wood project, I wouldn't have to head to the hardware store or the lumber yard. Because I'd (probably) have everything I need.
But for now there's just no room.
And that makes me feel incredibly sad.
