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It’s Possible that Amelia Earhart is Somewhere in My Garage

If you can look at this picture without having a panic attack, then you are a much stronger person than me.  Or, perhaps I have not done a very good job of showing the depth and breadth of this unbelievable amount of stuff that we must painstakingly plow through if we ever want to see the floor of our garage again.

I should have put our bulldog in the picture and done a “Where’s Wonderbutt?” post.  Oh well.  I think there’s still plenty of time for that.

I think that I mentioned awhile ago that my mother-in-law was in the process of moving, and that we had been tasked with clearing her old apartment by the end of July.  This began as a methodical examination of each item, and subsequent determination of appropriate categorization: keep, throw, sell, or give away.

By the end of July, it became a frantic assembly line of wrapping fragile items in newspaper, throwing them in boxes, and writing, “Keep – For Now” on each lid.  We realized that we needed to consult with the entire team from Antiques Roadshow and probably a few history professors before we could make any decisions on half of these items.

Amongst the piles of Englebert Humperdinck albums and ornate boxes for delicate panties (that did not contain the advertised item – thank goodness) we have found paperwork tracing the family back to British barons and pocket watches that still tick despite their broken faces.  And, of course, we have a cannonball.

The initial idea was to have a garage sale.  But that’s going to be hard to do until we find our garage again.

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