I have garage-cleaning down to a system. Every Saturday morning, like clockwork, I’m back at it, ready to sort items into keep, trash and donate piles. I’ve gotten better at making the most of my time.
Florida is hot in the summer, so I begin my excavations right after breakfast. I get a whole lot done before the temperatures rise too high, or I’m too tired, to continue.
As much as I try to be productive, I do get sidetracked. This weekend, the boxes I unpacked were filled with memories—stories my son wrote, and I see now that has long been a good writer, and creations my daughter made—I recognize that she was an artist long before earning an MFA.But purge I did! Those items were hard to throw away, so my heart broke a bit each time I trashed a piece of their history. Then again, I’ll forget all about those projects soon enough and can enjoy their adult accomplishments. Bonus: I gained more floor space in my garage.