Garage Workbench

There are some scary places in our house. That’s probably to be expected in a big old home that was built back in 1869. And besides, we share this place with Mrs. Crouch, our resident ghost. But even though we’ve had a few overnight guests who refuse to come back, we find Mrs. Crouch a benign (though sometimes playful) presence. She’s not connected with the scary places here,

No. The scary places are of our own making – one is in Nyel’s domain and the other is in mine. His and hers. The garage and my office. Scary and scarier.

In fairness, I have to say that the garage is only scary to me. Nyel seems to be fine with it. Part of its fearsome aspect to me is that I don’t know what all is there and, worse, I don’t know what most of the stuff is for. Plus, there’s lots of stuff up very high where I couldn’t reach it even if I needed to. And, even worse, lots of things are under or behind heavy, dangerous-looking other things. I definitely don’t feel at one with the garage. Maybe at five or six.

Office

My office, unfortunately, is scary to both of us. Mostly there’s nothing heavy or dangerous-looking or up very high. In fact, it is my own lack of height (and therefore, reach) that makes for all the piles of ‘very important’ papers on the floor. Storage opportunities are minimal in my little office and it’s not easy to stow things I feel I need to keep. So there are piles. Making my way toward the business end of things (that would be to the desk and my computer) is difficult. In fact, scary.

If we are busy – Nyel with a garage project or me with a writing project – we don’t notice and we don’t worry about our surroundings. As long as Nyel can access the tools he needs and clear a bit of workspace, he’s good to go. Ditto me, as long as I can get to my computer and know where I can find any reference materials I might need. Sometimes that requires a bit of hunting and sifting, but it’s usually do-able.

Of course, between projects we are full of resolve. Nyel gets to cleaning his workbench and returns items to their proper places on the industrial strength shelving. I begin a righteous archaeological dig though the accumulation of papers, often finding long-lost treasures and occasionally (gulp!) an overdue bill or bit of correspondence that has gone unanswered.

Nyel’s Workbench…sometimes

Unfortunately, years of experience tell us that a neat and tidy workplace doesn’t necessarily increase our effectiveness as far as productivity is concerned.  Nor do our respective work stations stay pristine for long. The result of that realization is that we find little pleasure in  clean-up endeavors. The it’s-just-going-to-get-messy-again attitude interferes with any momentary pleasure of seeing things neat and tidy.

If the very worst scenario plays out – that we spend precious time searching for something that remains ‘lost’ – there is always the possibility that Mrs. Crouch is responsible. Or so we say. As I mentioned, she is playful (and annoying) but never in a scary way. Anything scary in this house is definitely of our own making.