Flush with over confidence after successfully cleaning out the playroom, M and I attacked the garage. We forgot that the garage is bigger. We forgot that we used to have a back yard tool shed. We forgot that said toolshed had vomited its contents into the garage back in January. We underestimated the job.
For the last two days we have been hard at work. We got the boys to help. There is now a mountain of garbage bags at the curb, and Goodwill has been completely restocked. We may finish tomorrow.
Turns out I own four cans of WD-40. Who knew? And you know here at Orangehouse, there's never a screwdriver when you need one? Well now I have a small bucket full. Apparently they've been hiding in the nooks and cranies of the garage. Ditto for extension cords.
This spring cleaning, this archeological excavation of the Orangehouse tell, this colon cleanse of our domestic life, has unearthed a few treasures. One of which is the above photograph. Buried deep in a picture frame, behind two or three newer pictures, was this gem from 12 years ago. Back then M was pregnant with D. I had a hip goatee, just like I do now, only with less grey. M thought that my whiskers would irritate the baby's skin, so I shaved it off before he was born. Just for fun, I cut it into this biker style before shaving it off completely. I think the tortoiseshell glasses go particularly well with it, don't you?