I love getting up early on Saturdays to visit blogs. I usually read blogs under the “Humor” or “Personal” topics, but I also love looking through photography blogs. What talent people possess. So, while I was looking at various titles to see which one to read next, I came across one entitled, “Six Word Saturday.” Intrigued, I clicked on it and next thing you know, I’ve decided to sign up myself. Like I don’t have anything else to do. But, I figure since Pinterest has decided that I don’t have the right password and must get a new invite (I don’t think so), I have time to write on Saturdays. I am Pinterestless. So, here is my first little post for Six Word Saturday:
I’m Glad I Have a Garage
The weather channel is predicting 3-5 inches of snow this afternoon and 2-4 inches tonight. I went to stupid Walmart last night for provisions, and headed home. I usually torture myself and visit Walmart on Saturday mornings, after getting gas and a trip for money at the bank. I’m in such a rut. But, after watching the radar at school yesterday, I thought I might be snowed in today. I’m so glad I listened to Intuitive Vickie. She is oh so wise.
As I look outside, the very first thing that comes to mind is not how much snow is falling. I’m not afraid of snow. I hate the cold, and despise cold wind, but no, I’m glad I have a garage on days like this. For those of you who have a garage, read on. Perhaps you will appreciate your enclosed space just a little more.
When I was growing up, we always lived in the same house. We had a two car garage.
I was always covered. And that made me spoiled. When I went off to college in 1974, my little toyota, Rusty, had to sit outside. Life sucked. I never had to scrape ice off of my car. What the hell was that all about? I looked in my backseat for a scraper, as if there should be one sitting on the back floor for me. I was running late for class and there was ice on all of my windows. So, I did what every other college student with no brain did. I used my driver’s license. Those were a long four years.
After I got married, we first lived in a small garage apartment that his mom and dad just built. I said “garage” apartment, didn’t I? Well, um, no. It was promptly filled with stuff and his brother made it into a hoarding hell workspace. So, we had to park our cars outside. When we built our house in 1992, I felt like the princess I was supposed to be. I never had to scrape my car again. So, for seventeen years, I had a dry, warmish place to put my car.
Well, life doesn’t always go the way you want it to, and the next thing you know, you are divorced, and more importantly, garageless. That is what really hurt. Since we lived on 13 acres with a pool, pond, and a expansive landscapes to tend to, I did not want to keep the house. My ex-husband did enjoy being a slave to the property, so he bought me out and I thought it would be smart to move back to where it all started. That little garage apartment was sitting, vacant. I was sure my in-laws, who I am positive loved me more than Magoo (can’t drive worth a shit moniker) I really didn’t know what I wanted to do. Did I want to buy a house or a townhouse? Did I want to stay in my city that I was not fond of to begin with, and move elsewhere. So, my inlaws agreed, my husband painted and put in cool lighting fixtures, and pushed my out of my garage on January 1, 2009. Ahhhhhh.
My new life after 25 years of marriage was liberating and I was as happy as a clam. But, it was January and one morning I noticed ice on my car windows. What the hell is this shit? It’s funny, but I looked in the backseat of my Santa Fe, once again expecting a scraper to be sitting on the floor, smiling at me. I thought I had one in case I got stuck out somewhere. I thought it was with my umbrella that was not there. I had to use a Phil Collins CD to scrape my windows. Sorry Phil. To paraphrase one of your songs, this was not “another day in paradise.” Oh, no, dammit, where is my tiara? My spoiled princess status was once again revoked.
I lived in the garage apartment from January 2009 until October of 2011. Garageless. What’s worse, is that I had steps to the upstairs apartment to keep clear of snow and ice on top of not having a garage. It just sucked. I used to take a broom and sweep off the snow on the car. One day, while talking out loud, cursing my want of a garage, I took the broom, trying to make one big swoom from the front of the roof of the car to the back, but I kept going, right down to the ground. I injured my shoulder in the process. I just flew with the broom right onto my right side. I laid in the 7 inches of snow we had, and just laughed. Help. I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.
Well, I did get up, but couldn’t do a thing with my right arm for weeks. Putting on a bra was an Olympic event. I didn’t go to the doctor because, well, I hate waiting rooms with a passion. So, I suffered in silence. Ha. I whined every chance I got. It was worse when it rained. I knew that my umbrella was in the car. Now, that really sucks. And on hot hot hot August days, flesh from the palms of my hands would be left on the steering wheel.
When I decided to look at a townhouse this past August, I walked around with the real estate agent, and smiled when he took me down to the garage. I sighed. “Awwww, a garage.” I was in love. The real estate agent thought I was a loon, I am sure.
So, I followed him back down to his office and put a deposit down on the place. I have been there since October 1, and love my little garage. I am back to being a tiara wearing princess, abeit older, maybe more like Bette Davis in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane, but a princess nonetheless.
So, even if you just have a car port, or a detached garage and have to walk from there to your house, don’t protest. It is covered.
Life is good.