I am happy to report that the wife's new domain, her newly painted and remodeled (OK...so I tore out the shelf in the closet and couldn't get the screws out of the wall. I DID get it off. No, I can't put it back up...)workshop is now open for business. Well, after she figures out what to do with that ton of stuff that came out of the closet. I think I feel my ears growing longer and my voice is starting to bray. The only usable storage space left around here is in the garage rafters. And guess who gets to ride the Wobbly Wabbit climbing up there to shove all those boxes and bags out of sight? Most of that junk is the brats, anyway. I don't think she really wants her dresses from when she was ten years old. Mothers who have lost children tend to hang on to things for some reason. A lot of weird things. Oh yeah, that new loveseat we wrestled into the room? It's buried. Not even so much as a little blue checkerboard pattern peeking through. That $5.00 beastie of a fold up table that could serve double duty for the King of Westershire's picnic takes up a lot of room in there, as well. The couch just fits but, the bed wouldn't fold out without putting the dresser in the closet. With the mirror (something else she picked up at a yard sale), which meant ripping the shelf out. It's screwed in...with two an a half inch star heads. My Phillips screwdriver is worthless. I can't find any of my bits....Oh yeah, Sir Spazo ate them. Screw it...go Kamikaze on the thing! Sledgehammer.... works every time.
Well, then there was the matter of those heavy metal closet doors. In order to get those out of the house and stored away in the garage with all the other lonely and wistfully dreaming junk, I had to open the back door and brave the rickety back porch. This wobbler is not advised while trying to carry both panels down it. The only reason this well-weathered original equipment to the trailer is still back here is because it's required by law. In my haste to corral the panels and close the door so those cats won't get out at the same time, the door didn't exactly close tight. It's a bit old and cranky, too. Sure enough.....Jen Jen the explorer is off and running. As soon as my back was turned, of course. I think it was about two in the morning she decided to come inside and was sitting on the back porch meowing.
"I told you she's smart. She'd be back." The cat nuzzles mama's neck.
"Bad kitty." I guess she's off the hook now. And so am I.