For the last two days, I have been working in our garage, where it feels like a sauna- which is too glamorous a word for how it really feels.
I look and feel like I have been ridden hard and put up wet.
Why am I doing this?
Do I have some great organizational plan with coordinating labeled bins?
Was I motivated to start by some sense of housewifery?
I started this because I couldn’t stand it anymore.
Here is what I have learned.
There needs to be a garage cleaning stool (on rollers) that lowers to the floor, but will also rise to the top shelf where I store _______________ (fill in the blank).
I have an obsession with community, junior league, church auxiliary cookbooks. There’s something about those spiral bound cookbooks, with their soft pages, that make me feel like I not only belong to that group, but that I am a great old school cook.
I have millions… I donated most of them yesterday, which made me sad, but I have a new mantra for garage cleaning:
I can replace this if I miss it, which is completely contradictory to the point.
In fact that will be easy at the flea market because other women my age donated their stashes of cookbooks, which have traveled to my area, and now I can have them!
It’s like a flea market Bookmobile!
Side note: there are equal numbers of diet books at the flea market too.
Which ones did I save and why?
First off is To Market to Market , The Junior League of Owensboro, Kentucky. I couldn’t resist the pink cover, the pig riding a horse and the fabulous recipes inside.
And next, Sharing Recipes , from the 1948 Study Club of Baird, Texas. I can not resist a Texas cookbook.
And now I realize this post may have taken an odd turn, and I know I sound crazy