Garage Updates

These are the 'after' pictures. I know, you can't see much difference. But I can!

Let me draw your attention to the tools mounted on the wall behind the bins. That wasn't there before!

Also, not pictured, is an overhead storage shelf thingy, ceiling mounted. Much of the camping furniture went there. It's great.

And, lo, what is that in the garage door? Could it be, a project underway? Why, yes. It IS a project underway.

And I'd like you to note that the stored items are in bins, not in secondhand, falling-apart cardboard boxes.

Dr. Parts has room to move around and do some work that he's wanted to get to for a long, long time. Here's he's sanding our two recently purchased bedside tables. We got them at our local unfinished furniture store. They are ash and beautiful.

He keeps asking, "How would you like me to finish them?"

I keep answering, "It's your project. You should finish them as you think best."

This is a going-back-in-time photo to Dr. Parts working in the garage last Saturday. Throwing stuff away. Isn't he fabulous!

And behind him, you can see all the Lori boxes that are no longer there. I must have gone through 10-15 boxes. I think I saved only 3 bins worth. I did great. He helped me carry a little more stuff than the previous Saturday.

He loaded up his truck and took it all to the dump. It's a hard process for me, but I do like the outcome.

I found lots of old boyfriend stuff. It merely confirmed the superiority of Dr. Parts over any other partner. I'm a very lucky woman.

Medium Old Diabetics

This is a photo of me and my mom, also taken at my grandparent's home in February 2007. (And that box-like thing in the foreground is a music stand with a hand-made light. It is not a box of stuff.)

I show you this picture because of the garage. What's the connection?

Well, the few comments that I got on the garage post, besides Uncle Pesky who says that that my mis-organized garage aint got nothing on his barn("yers is all in boxes!"), were either 'yes, my garage is full of my kids' stuff' or 'my stuff is still at my folks' home."

Well, this photo is of a woman who avoided that fate. My mom, 'E', has worked hard most of her life to keep her stuff organized. She had cataloged most of the boxes in the attic. Mine were clearly labelled with 'L' and my brother's were clearly labelled with 'W'.

She decided, at some point, perhaps when she and her counselor were working on the idea of healthy boundaries, that when her kids were old enough to live on their own, they were old enough to be responsible for all of their own stuff. Yes, meaning ALL of their own stuff.

She would come visit me, in my tiny blue 14 x 16 foot room, and bring one or two boxes, clearly labelled 'L', up on her handcart in the elevator of my building. As she found stuff that was mine, she would set it aside and ask me to take it with me when I left after visiting her.

I think this was very wise of her, and perhaps should be adopted by wise parents in many settings. Okay, so she waited until we were out of college, but not much beyond that. (Allison, you must show your parents this post. George, Scott & Chrissie, take notice. Yes, George & Scott, eventually they will move out.) Of course, it does mean that the stuff has got to be organized; #1 child's stuff in only these boxes, #2 child's stuff in only those boxes, etc. And you will probably need to be persistent and loving in your moving of the material into the proper home.

You may have to set a time limit. Such as, "Darling, you still have five boxes in the attic. I'll set them in the entryway for your Thanksgiving weekend visit. Anything that's still left in my house by Mother's Day will be going into the garage sale."

Of course with deadlines like this, it helps if you said it like this when they were in grade school: "Lori, I'm going to be going into your room at 3 pm on Saturday. If there are any books, toys, or clothing on the floor and not in their proper place, I'm going to throw them in the garbage." And, it helps if, when they were in grade school, you followed through and actually threw the items away. (In our case the items were only confiscated for a week, which was what she said, but she followed through and kept these consequences for us. At one point, she had to threaten to remove all the books from my room-except the Bible- if I didn't clean my room. I cleaned. I cleaned desperately. I loved my books. I still do, including my Bible.)

So, this is part of why I have all of my stuff in my garage, rather than hanging out at Mom's.

Wise Mom.

Thank you, Mom. I love you, even if you did threaten to take away all my books.

Dr. Parts and I will work on the garage again tomorrow. We got through weekend #1 without damage to our marriage. I have confidence that our continued shared work toward a shared goal will continue to strengthen our marriage.

I also have Percoset. That's for afterwards.

Garage Pain

This is what can happen when you let two persons marry at the age of (roughly) 40. Two sets of memories and momentos, stacked in the one-car garage.

Saturday, Dr. Parts decided it was time to organize this mess. He gave us a deadline of 10 days.

TEN DAYS?!?

We've only had this mess at this level for roughly four years, and now we have ten days to resolve it? Oh, well, let's dig in and see how far we get.

We did great! Probably about one-third done. He got some shelves to hang from the ceiling and mounted them and put the camping chairs and cots up.

I carried my boxes (those are the boise cascade green & white paper boxes) and took them to the living room and sorted them out. I probably did ten, and saved only about one box worth.

We set aside donations and a lot of trash.

Downside? My feet have been killing me since Sunday.

I am so discouraged. I'm thinking that I'll have to quit my job because I don't perform at an adequate level when I'm in that kind of pain. It feels as if they just finished caning the soles of my feet. And if I can't bring in my salary, how will we sell the house? Or is there some kind of career change that I can do which will require less actual steps? And if I can't step as much as I used to what the **** is going to happen to my future, and my diabetes? No exercise? What kind of life is that? What's it going to do for my circulatory system? Maybe I should just go ahead and have the blanking surgery? And since the **** pain is bilateral, that means it's probably not related to my bones, or the structure of my feet. Bilateral pain is probably neuropathy.

I am doomed, doomed! I'm already on pain meds, I'm already on antidepressants; what more can they actually do for me? And it's a *&*(&^ invisible disability, because I look perfectly fine and healthy. Should I get a scooter/powerchair? And if I do, will it work with our vehicles? Those people are going to think I'm crazy...

And so go the voices in my head. Around and around they go, gaining speed with each lap.

So, on my annual exam visit to MD tomorrow, I will officially ask for a reference to the OHSU Comprehensive Pain Center.

I've printed out the forms my doc needs to fill out. I've also got the 22-page intake form that I have to fill out for my first appointment.

Here's hoping that they can restore my bank account of hope, related to my foot pain, because I'm all out in that area.

And I'm hoping Dr. Parts will give me more than ten days to finish up my part of the project. He's a good man.