It seemed like good timing. With Jim out of the country for a week I tackled the garage. The same garage that had not held a car in nine months since it was filled with boxes that had been rescued from another garage that had gotten flattened in an ice storm last November. And before they were stored in her garage we had rented a storage unit for all our excess material goods.

I had my daughter with me, to keep me motivated since I knew the task was daunting and my will could waver at any moment.

Did I say that after the ice storm went through the items from the other garage were stored on the ground covered with a tarp until they were removed to our garage after a matter of months. And so there was a lot of black mold and that stuff got pitched. Boxes of water soaked books, brittle and falling apart were also pitched. Household items, clothes, old cameras, picture frames, well, you know, the collections of a lifetime, were given in five of my little truck loads to Good Will. Other items were taken to consignment shops. Some were given back to their rightful owners.

Three boxes of used, dented golf balls, collected from various 'roughs' on Ohio courses, were dragged to the curb for the trash collector. Our sidewalk was filled with bags, boxes, a table missing the glass top - things that had no use or value...to me.

Amazingly the next morning before the trash collectors came Voila! the golf balls were gone. I told my face book friends that I am anticipating a nasty letter from some other wife about what her husband dragged home from my home.

We'll see how much value these things had to Jim when he returns from Ukraine next Sunday.

One surprise as I opened one of the endless boxes. I saw beady little eyes looking up at me from within a coil of wire. Underneath the little mouse were two babies, each about the size of my little finger nail. What to do! We dragged them, box and all, to the curb. When the collectors came the next day we wished them well on their way to the big trash pile in the county. They should be well fed and flourish, and never find their way back here (we refused to consider that the trash truck had a compactor on it).

My purpose, remember, was to get the car in the garage and I almost succeeded. It stuck out about four inches in the back and even though I got most of it in, I couldn't open the door to exit the vehicle. Drat!

Tomorrow is another day. And that's what I'm thinking about.

Well, indeed, it is another day and miracle of miracles, the car is in the garage; I was able both to exit the driver's side and close the overhead garage door.

And that's what I'm thinking about.