18 Year Old Time Capsule

Emily is back to school this morning...Spring Break is over. We deconstructed and partially reconstructed her room...with more work pending. I will post about it soon with plenty of pictures of me looking like the gable end of destruction. Until that time, let's revist my post from last year's Spring Break:

“The Weekend I Cleaned Out the Storage Building.”

For best effect, you should hear me say it aloud, in a mock James Earl Jones tone of voice. It was a massive undertaking, and the proclamation of the accomplishment deserves an air of importance.
Basically, the building was a time capsule of 18 years of housekeeping exiled to the back left quadrant of our yard. It was no small task....

I had put off cleaning said out building for some time. My reasons:
  1. I was in danger of being attacked by a raccoon.
  2. I was in danger of heat stroke.
  3. I was in danger of a complete avalanche of rarely used Christmas tree decorations, various fishing poles and tools; and 3 years worth of Yard Sale Boxes for a yard sale “we are going to have the first weekend of April” (three years in a row.)
But, enough procrastination. The weather was perfect; I was in an energetic mood and since Emily was grounded, I had access to forced labor.
Now, of my three excuses NOT to tackle the job, only one proved to have any validity when push came to shove. It was very, very hot in that dang thing. Even given the cool springtime weather this weekend, at times I felt like I would spontaneously combust. I am a woman of a certain age, so I can pop a sweat reading too fast much less doing physically demanding work in a tightly closed environment.

I proceeded cautiously. First, I made a pile for yard sale items. The next pile was trash, and the third pile was things to put back in the time capsule. It was a neat, organized, deliberate system of attack, right?

That calm arrangement lasted about 10 minutes. I couldn’t keep the piles straight (thank you Wonky Hippocampus), I was about to flame up, and the only way to keep Emily on task was to text her from the back. I kid you not, at one point I looked outside the Inferno and she was sitting in a folding chair texting and checking Facebook. This caused my frustration to spiral out of control. From that point forward, a whole lotta stuff was put directly onto the trash pile.
By the time I reached the far back corner of that black hole, I was completely and thoroughly exhausted. Tinsel was hanging in my hair. I barely escaped having a red and white bobber for an earring (I think I threw all of them away in a semi-rage against all things manly), and I had tripped over an ice cream freezer from 1996. I was beside myself with aggravation. I think if I had encountered a raccoon, he would have offered to pray for me.

But, it’s done. I know I rescued one Christmas tree, a strand of lights and some wrapping paper from the trash pile, so we will have a Merry Christmas. Michael will undoubtedly decide to go fishing, and I will explain the whole bobber matter to him at that point. He can use real worms; I don’t think the tackle box was of any sentimental value. The Yard Sale is planned for the first part of April, if the Lord’s willing and the creeks don’t rise.

I’m working up a sweat just thinking about it!

Love and joy!


  1. So, how did it go when he decided to go fishing? lol ~ Maureen

  2. Shhh...he has not been fishing since the purging of said tackle box. Since we have had a rash of burglaries, he may believe someone got it. I could just keep my mouth shut, right? No, that's wrong. I will tell him the truth. That raccoon ate it.

  3. So funny. I have several grain bins that I need to do that to but there's still room in them so I think it can wait. Funny story! I don't think I'd tell Michael. Just let him wonder where he put it.


  4. Ha! I'm getting sweaty just reading about it! I love that a raccoon would offer to pray for you if you found one in there. :) (Thanks for linking up with us over at #findingthefunny!)


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