I spent yesterday morning moving my tools and such into the garage. You’d think it would be an easy task, because an unhandy woman shouldn’t need a lot of tools, but I’ve ended up with a slew of things. Some I bought. Some I inherited from various folk. Some were gifts. Some came from people who thought I should have a tool collection. And so now I do have a collection. I have way more screwdrivers and wrenches than I will ever use, more hammers than I have hands, a power drill I used once, an electric screwdriver. Long-handled garden tools, of course. Oh, so many things! (I have a hacksaw and a Japanese pull saw, but I don’t have an electric saw. I might need to rectify that omission.)
Now the tools are nicely arranged in the post-WWII steel kitchen counters that apparently once resided in my kitchen and now sit comfortably in my garage. This opened up my utility/sun/exercise room. And what a difference! Ever since the old garage was torn down, all my tools and storage items were stashed in that room, so now not only do I have a garage, I have my sun room back. Unfortunately, since that exercise equipment has been freed from the confines of all the storage, I no longer have an excuse not to use it.
I spent the morning giving the room a thorough cleaning, and have mostly reclaimed it. The only thing still in the house that doesn’t belong there is my battery-operated lawn mower. (Though maybe I’m wrong here? Maybe all houses need an inside lawn mower?) Because of the steep drop out the back door, I can’t move the mower to the garage by myself, so next time the builders come, I’ll ask them to do it. And then, the room really will be mine again.
After that cleaning stint, I went out to the yard to pull weeds. It’s not a chore I particularly like doing. The problem isn’t that it’s a never-ending job or that it’s hard work or that it seems futile. The problem is that I can’t help wondering who am I to decide what plants get to live and what have to die. But I overcome my nicety and do what has to be done. For a while, anyway, until exhaustion sets in.
The tarot card I dealt myself for study today was the seven of pentacles. Some readers say the card means loss and disappointment. Others say it’s about efforts that come to nothing. Still others mention perseverance and planning, as well as affirming my long-term vision and helping to show that I am not confined to seeing results in the short term. Sounds like weed-digging, doesn’t it? I’d expected more from my Tarot studies than such mundanities.
Still, the mundanities — sorting and cleaning and weed pulling — all help to create a better home and garden (and garage!) for me.
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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator
Bertram's Blog 
August 2, 2020 at 5:36 pm
Choosing what lives and what dies doesn’t strike me as a much of mundanity.
That said, the dust bunnies, stuff where it doesn’t belong, and weeds will eventually reassert their places in the order of things, so maybe keeping them at bay is mundane after all?
August 2, 2020 at 8:06 pm
It just dawned on me — such self-perpetuating things seem to go against the laws of entropy.
August 3, 2020 at 8:35 am
You are so energetic & productive. It is looking better & I know you will make good use of your exercise room!
August 4, 2020 at 9:43 am
At maximum entropy, could the universe not just be a giant dust bunny?
August 4, 2020 at 9:45 am
I laughed, but then as I got to thinking about it, I realized it could be true.
August 5, 2020 at 1:52 pm
I am jealous of your elliptical and exercise room. We are avoiding our gym for now, but have no real room in our condo for any machine. So it’s walks only. But to actually own your own elliptical? Nice!
August 5, 2020 at 8:12 pm
I’m lucky to have the elliptical. A relative bought it, hated it, and wanted to get rid of it. Since I have room, I said okay without any idea of what it was. Too bad you’re not near here or I’d let you use it.