The Tyrrany of the Logical Place

Living in a small house means you have to make allowances.

We have a little shed in the backyard.  Without having measured it, my best guess is that it’s about 10 feet square, but it could be smaller.  Maybe 3 meters on a side.   I can stand in it comfortably.

That is when I empty it.
Or when I can actually go into it.

There’s a ritual involved.

First, think clearly of what you need.  No, Not what you are looking for, but what you actually NEED.  That is to say, you have a lot of projects “pending” so clear your mind and go through that mental list thinking about what you need to complete them.

Dremel tool.

Wiper blades for the Jeep.  You have no idea how difficult it is to find 13 inch wiper blades even in an Auto Parts store these days.

Lights for the little Charlie Brown Holiday Tree.  Ok, so that’s a little early, but it is best to start in August when you’re looking for that sort of thing.

Second, remember why you went out there.  In this case, I’m trying to get together a Care Package for a good friend up North.  I do that sort of thing periodically, as he sends me random things periodically.  That means that I keep packing material on hand as a rule.

You know, Bubble Wrap.  For crying out loud stop popping that, I need it!

Third, find the bug spray.  This is Florida.  South Freaking Florida.   While that shed gets hot during the day with the tin roof partially exposed to the sun under the spreading Sea Grape Tree, it doesn’t really get hot enough to keep it clear of wildlife. 

Not those entertaining little lizards, they use it as an incubation chamber and leave little gumdrop sized eggs in the corner.

I am worried about those other family pets.   My Flock of Mosquitoes and my herd of Spiders.

Die, just die.

I open the door gingerly.  Spray the spray of death into the small chamber.   The two moths that I flushed into the open flutter to the ground.  I did say I am not a practitioner of Jainism where every life is sacred.  If that moth was one of my reincarnated relatives, you shall find another place in your next life.  Let me suggest something a little more charismatic like a parrot or gecko.

I close the door with flourish.  The metal plate behind it thrums.  Drop the padlock into the latch and walk back to the house.   I need to let the poison gas do its thing. 

Try to convince Rack that he really does not need to hide behind the chair.   It’s sunny, we only have a 50 percent chance of rain.  Come on boy, Backyard!

Nothing.  Ok, I’ll do this alone.

Reopen the shed.  The sweet smell of bug death leeches out into the yard.   I step back to allow it to “fall out” while rolling the lawn mower out into the yard.

Stepping back into the shed I immediately get knocked in the head.  Mango Pole for Mango Season and the Pole Saw are hanging from the rafters.  They need to be secured.

I start to dig.   Everything was placed out there for a reason.  Sure.  I’ll need that.   The old radio for my Jeep sits waiting in a bag.  Do people still listen to Cassettes?  How about AM Stereo?

Yeah that ship has sailed.

My motorcycle license plate from New Jersey, still with the sticker on it from 1991.   I miss that bike.  Honda Goldwing Interstate.  *Sigh* Can’t ride one down here, these people think driving is a contact sport.

Ooh there’s that wiper blade!  The holiday lights!  The Bubble Wrap!  That’s why I came out in the first place.  Bubble wrap! 

Not all of it.  Somewhere we have a big roll of the stuff.  Better find that by mid September, I’ll see if I can make do.

Any chance I can find that Dremel?  I have a couple beer bottles to cut down to make “Votive Candle Holders”.

Yeah I know, kitchy.

But no luck on that Dremel.

Whacking my head on the Mango Pole I look at the bikes hanging forgotten in the back.  I never liked riding them anyway.

One more pass for the Dremel.  Nope.  Set the wiper blades in clear view and back out.   The Mosquitoes are heading back in the void.  I dared to breathe too long.  The Carbon Dioxide is collecting in the enclosed space.

Everything was put out there for a reason.  It’s the Logical Place.   The problem with putting things in a Logical Place is that it makes too much sense.  Out of sight and out of mind, you forget about it completely.  Add to it that it is in a place you try not to go to because of the logistics and you end up wasting another hour on another day looking for something that you need, serendipitously hoping you will find it.

Not a chance, but you may find the other plate for the Motorcycle some day.   The Pennsylvania plates always looked more cool anyway.  Shaped like the state with that silly notch for where Erie County is.

You know they actually bought that from New York?  Erie Pennsylvania?  They wanted that?  Must have been for the harbor.  Made Pennsylvania the forgotten Great Lakes state and a great trivia question.

Two states border the Great Lakes and touch the salt water of the Atlantic Ocean – which are they?

New York and Pennsylvania.   The salt line goes up as far as Philadelphia on a dry month.

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