"Don't have a cow, man!"
"Frankly Scarlet, ..."
"Book 'em Danno"
"Your mission, should you choose to accept it...."
Yep, all as familiar as mixing cookies in milk, toast and peanut butter, bacon and eggs (drool... bacon). My catch phrase is "boy, I'm tired". It sounds redundant and over used, but I say it a LOT. I can't help it. I am worn out. I hit the ground running in the morning and hardly find time to sit (or stand) still all day. This weekend I came to the conclusion that I have earned "being tired". I'm simply not tired from being bored, sitting around all day doing nothing mindlessly flipping through channels on the idiot box. NO, I'm hauling, loading, moving, shifting, baking, marketing, sorting, organizing, cleaning, doing, driving, doing, doing, doing. Even when I AM sitting still, my mind is hopelessly wandering and making lists and figuring out the next big "to do" project.
Saturday I got the bee in my bonnet to clean the Tardis, which is the large, unfinished part of our lower level. It all started simply enough. I went downstairs to sharpen a pencil and had to move a box out of the way to keep shavings from raining down on it. When I put the box down, I picked something else up to put IT away, and so on and so forth.
It dawned on me that piles of stuff in the Tardis just wasn't the most effective use of the space. On top of everything else, the lighting STINKS! The only lighting currently down there are three bare bulb fixtures with CFL bulbs in them. They start out quite dim and then slowly work their way up to a blinding brightness. The problem with that is the space. You simply are in a basement area long enough for them to GET up to full brightness, so when you go in to just grab something from a camping shelf, you're doing it half blind.
Now I COULD have just solved the problem of the lighting with three of the new LED bulbs, which switch on instantly. But that would have been too easy.
No, instead I chose to shift the whole mess to the other end of the house, to the pantry area. Honestly, this makes a whole lot more sense anyhow. This area has large, bright light fixtures. It already stores the food stuffs and the freezer and holds the off season clothing and large coats, as well as the utility room and tornado shelter. It just made sense for it to be a full storage area. So it began.
I told Doc my plan and told him that it was something I was planning on doing in the next couple of weeks. Being the time traveler that I am, that apparently meant Tomorrow!
I spent all afternoon and evening emptying shelves and moving shelves. I then told Doc that I moved the shelves and the stuff would have to wait for another day, which turned out to mean the next morning. After the lights came up to full bright, the things had to be carried, sorted, and re-shelved. I had a pile for my sister, a pile for donation, and a pile of trash. After an afternoon of walking back and forth, and forth and back again in bare feet on concrete floors, I thought my feet and ankles were going to explode. I still had to take care of the empty old shelves and all the trunks and foot lockers, which I told Doc over dinner, would have to wait for another time as I was beat.
Apparently "another time", meant after dinner. (see what being an OCD means?). I opened, inventoried, and labeled all the trunks by their content, and stacked them neatly in the corner of the Tardif, where they will stay. The old shelves went under the stairs for paint and hardware storage, the other pair to the garage for shoes and boots and whatnots. I still need to take care of the piles of cardboard boxes and the donation pile but that can wait for later.
|It's not anywhere near as close as the photos make it look. There was just no good place to stand. The room is HUGE, and still has plenty of space! Only one of the two dressers at the end are staying.|
By which I mean tonight! Lol. See? Terrible, I know. And that's why I am SO TIRED from sharpening a PENCIL! But OH so worth it.
Next project. Putting my sewing area back together. (I tore it apart looking for a bit of Velcro.)