Garage season brings a smile. The bay door is up and the back door is propped open with a lawn bag of branches trimmed off the hedge earlier in the week. The openness allows a nice cross breeze as I sit here in a lawn chair, enjoying the shade, and looking out at the street and the bright hot sunlight. There is a soft hum coming from the mower battery charging, which is interrupted by the loud cars driving bye at steady clip.
Rakes and shovels line one wall. Old skis, a golf bag, and kids bikes huddle in the corner. Extra vinyl siding hangs on a wall, unlikely to ever be used or match the faded facade of the house if it ever is. Leaf bags filled, ready for the compost tumbler as needed. Tarps, lawn fertilizer, extra gas tank, trimmer, mower, stroller, three buckets filled with compost that is almost complete, all pushed to side.
Once the clear coat dries on the pine boards, I’ll start cutting them to 19-inch pieces for the shoe shelf I’m building. It will serve well in the downstairs coat closet. I’ve anticipated this since last summer, when I finished my last garage project—the oversized corkboard to display the kid’s artwork. I’m very much an amateur but each project is a chance to build something that I can look and pick up. Something my desk job doesn’t provide. Plus, each is an excuse to buy a new tool.
My new work bench was delivered two days ago. It is small, collapsible, and doubles as saw horse. It is a lot easier to cut lumber clamped to a table than balancing pieces on 5-gallon buckets. I already cut the side pieces of the shelf and drilled pilot holes—the table worked great. But there is no rush, this chair is too nice and the air too relaxing. That clear coat can dry slowly. It is time to celebrate the moment with a cold one, to forget about life for a while.
The “garage”? Hey fellas, the “garage”! Well, ooh la di da, Mr. French Man.