By now I think you’re all familiar with the giant barn we built a few years ago.
The husband had visions of a man cave complete with bar, pool table and plenty of space to display his
totally useless crap treasures.
What he got was a little different.
This is what happens when you’re a hoarder in training. You have a more than ample 2 story space and you fill it with random
rubbish, recycled debris stuff.
So the other day when the husband asked me if I would help him clear some of it out?
I admit I was a trifle excited.
The future yard sale pile grew larger.
But don’t faint…. it’s mostly my things, with some items a friend left in his basement for the husband when he moved to Oklahoma. Yes, that’s the $800 scooter we bought on Craig’s List for the husband’s brother who said he wanted it but didn’t like it and never used it. My eyes did some serious rolling that day let me tell you.
There was a lot of heavy lifting involved as none of the husband’s
rusty crap treasures are light.
What… you don’t have an adjustable height potato planter that weighs as much as a medium sized water buffalo?
Why ever not.
Of course he wanted most of these items upstairs.
It’s a hay bale fork with a pulley system for the hay bales we’ll never have or be required to move. And guess what? When you drop it on your toe while climbing the stairs….
You curse it.
Quite colorfully as it turns out.
As we spent the next few hours moving and sweeping and organizing… ( okay, that was me and it was pretty fruitless because the husband refused to put anything in the trash pile, even this collection of tires that don’t fit any vehicle we own ) I realized my miracle clean out was really just a ‘move things around so you can see the floor again’ type of miracle. But hey, I’ll take what I can get.
Part of it anyway.
I wish I could make him understand how wonderful a space this could be if he would just part with all the junk. And I don’t mean everything….. mixed in with all the why the hell did you buy that! stuff are some legitimately interesting things.
This old butter table is sweet.
And I do love the old apple press.
Otis the Opsrey is waiting patiently to be installed on the roof as well.
Though that baby is all mine and cost me a pretty penny.
But the ridiculous things he picks up and brings home because they’re free?
They’ve got to go.