Dust and decisions

A friend on an e-list has challenged everyone to be productive this weekend, in whatever way they choose. It could be quilting, painting, balancing your checkbook, sorting your summer wardrobe, cleaning the refrigerator. Your choice. We're supposed to e-mail in with an update of our progress every few hours for support and accountability. I chose to work on the black hole that is our garage.

I chose this task for a lot of reasons. It's been on my to-do list for the longest time. Wait, maybe not. I think several of the gardens have been on there longer actually. It's a task that has a lot of permanence to it - once it's done, it won't have to be redone, like vacuuming for example. At least not for a few years again. It's also the task to which all other tasks seem to be in some big or small way connected. It's the heart of the tangled ball of yarn. I can pick away at the smaller tangles at the edges, but I can't really get it all worked out until I tackle the middle.

It's incredibly slow going. There's so much in there that there's really no place to move things to without bumping into other things. So I'm having trouble sorting it all into categories. It's also slow going because it's a big garage and I'm a tiny person. Moving boxes, dragging bikes off the top of a pile of snow tires, those things aren't easy for someone 5'2" working alone. Don't get me wrong, I am getting help with the job. Unfortunately that help is being offered by cats and one very unhappy dog who's not allowed to join me. It's dark in there, another problem. But the biggest reason that it's slow going is that everything is a decision. Keep? Garage sale it? Does a kid want it? Toss?

As soon as I finish my coffee this morning (which seemed to arrive awful late - blush), I'll gather up my courage and go on back in. I feel like I need to take caving and/or mountain climbing equipment with me. Or at least lay down bread crumbs so I can find my way back out. Cats don't eat bread crumbs. I think.

In other news...

Rosie wandered off yesterday for the first time ever. I was hanging laundry in the back yard and the only thing I can figure out is she squeezed out through a broken piece of fence into our neighbor's yard and from there to where I eventually found her after twenty minutes of panicked calling and searching into the alleyway several houses up. If she'd gone much further.... I don't even want to think about it.

So I swooped her up and decided it was time for her to wear her dog tag full time. I bought her a tiny collar the other day, quite cute. Green with little spirals on it. I worked the dog tag off her travel harness and put it on the collar and then put the collar on her. She was less then pleased with her new attire. I wish I could have taken a video of her rolling and tossing herself around, squeaking "WTF!" It was funny and made me feel bad all at the same time. But tough love. I don't want to lose her. I will, however, get her a smaller tag as soon as I can because the tag on there now hangs down almost to her knees. She's truly the smallest dog I've ever seen.

Gotta get a move on. Upload some travel pics. Wake up the kid. Get out to the garage. If you haven't heard from me by tonight, sent out the search teams.