Harold

Harold

The garage was going to be the death of me. Moving, selling the house so much work!

I found a place that takes excess furniture, dishes, all kinds of things! The cellar was scary but a “workshop” yard sale with tools and weird fix-it stuff proved very popular with weird fix-it guys in town. The few things, stuff that didn’t seem to be selling, was quickly grabbed up when I moved it to the “Free Basket.” I didn’t know what half of them were, but apparently others were willing to find out, for free.

The garage had things in it that even the weird fix it guys didn’t seem to recognize. My husband, bless his soul, and I had inherited the house when his mother passed away, so we basically inherited everything. We were young, green, just starting a family, we got busy fixing up the house, making a workshop in the basement for "Mr. Fixit." He spent years fixing all the its, in the house, in the yard, not in the garage… The garage was empty where we needed it to be empty, for cars. Other than that, we barely ever even looked at it. Now, trying to sell, suddenly I was cleaning out the garage, from scratch, basically. Seventy plus years of small accumulated unrecognizable stuff tucked in the crevices.

But then came Harold. My age, widowed years before, and willing to take all the junk and figure it out himself. We got to talking, too, now single old biddies, navigating the “golden years” (pffft!) He cleaned out my garage, and I ended up moving in with him!

Now all I need to do is make sure he outlives me and I’m home free! I’ll do my best, he’s actually pretty cute for an old geezer.