Boxing lessons

What you're looking at here isn't actually my garage. It's a representative picture, you know, to give you an idea of what my actual garage looks like. In the same way, for example, a picture of Chris Hemsworth would be a representative picture of me.

You know I can hear you laughing, right?

When we started our kitchen/bathroom/living room remodel almost a year ago, the first thing on our to-do list was pack up everything and get it out of the house before the contractors came in to demo the place. After several runs to Box Bros., daily struggles with the tape dispenser and inhaling more marker fumes than I care or can remember while we were labeling them, we finally got it done.

That was then, and this is now. The remodel is complete, and looks fabulous.

But while the remodel proper is finished, we still have sixteen boxes sitting in the garage that have yet to be unpacked and moved back into the new kitchen.

So what's in the boxes? Who the hell knows.

We labeled them with the main items (Did I mention the markers? I can't remember), but there are lots of little gems also packed into each one just waiting to be rediscovered. The box marked "Mixing bowls" might also have clay sculptures the kids made in second grade. The "dishtowels" box could also have a stack of unpaid bills from last January waiting for us. The "Cups and saucers" box is probably filled with....well, that one is likely cups and saucers.

The thinking is one thing at a time, and do everything in the right order. First, we have to clear some room in our new kitchen cabinets so we can put away whatever is hiding in those sixteen boxes. We have yet to do this. And with the holidays upon us, it's a safe bet the boxes in the garage holding Christmas decorations are going to be unpacked way before the remodel ones. Right after we clear some room for the Christmas tree. Don't get me started.

I imagine we'll hit the year mark—January 26 to be exact—before we even start on the remodel boxes. But we'll get to unpacking them just as soon as we're able. And who knows, once we get motivated and start ripping those suckers open, we may even decide to really surprise ourselves and tackle a box or two that's been there since we moved in.

Twenty years ago.

Let there be light

It's dark at night.

I bet that's the kind of piercing insight and keen observation you read this blog for. You can stop rolling your eyes now. I'm not talking about outside - I'm talking about inside my house.

Our living room has always been light-challenged. There are ceiling lamps off to the side in what used to be a dining room, and another off to the other side in what used to be a bedroom. But no one really likes the harshness of those lights, or the amount of coverage they offer. And yes, a lot of rooms used to be other rooms in this house. It's like Disneyland - it'll never be finished.

Anyway, we used to have lamps on the end tables on either side of the couch, which made reading comfortable and easy on the eyes.

But then, in an act of sheer hostility and defiance, the lamp on my night table in the bedroom crapped out. It started doing strange flickering things when I turned it on. It was actually a little disturbing, since there was no rhyme or reason to when it would start acting up. I was scared it was either a poltergeist or conspiring to electrocute me. Or both. So I trashed it, and moved one of the ones in the living room next to me in the bedroom.

Ever since, my living room is like the moon: half in light, half in darkness. I was going to say covered in a fine gray dust with footprints from 1969, but why open that can of worms.

The problem replacing the lamp has been trying to find one that somewhat matches the remaining one. I don't know if you know this, but there are literally thousands of lamps to scroll through online - and it's exactly as much fun as it sounds.

I'm getting to the point where I'm ready to run out to Lowe's and just buy one. The wife doesn't want me to do it, but I told her we could look forever and the perfect one might never show up.

She said, "You're telling me."

Clean thoughts

Over the holiday weekend, my son was away with a friend, starting to concept his next award-winning short film. My daughter was spending the weekend as a counselor at a camp near Big Bear.

Which meant my wife and I had the very strange and rare treat of having the house - not counting Max, world's greatest dog - all to ourselves.

If you’re married with kids, I’m sure you’ll appreciate it almost as much as we did. I don’t think I have to tell you that we proceeded to do what any long-married couple does when they finally get a little private time away from the kids.

We cleaned and organized the house.

First, we decided instead of drudgery it was going to be fun. We put on the soundtrack to the movie Chef (awesome – go to iTunes now and download it, I’ll wait) and blasted it while we were working. We decided to spend twenty minutes on the living room, and take no prisoners.

Everything was on the table, figuratively and literally speaking. Books, magazines, receipts, DVDs, papers, pillows, blankets – things that had been lying around or just left out for the last few years were either put where they belong, donated to charity or trashed. It’s amazing how much we accomplished with a focused effort and a predetermined amount of time.

Then we did the other thing long-married couples do whenever they get the chance and the kids aren't around.

We took a nap.