There’s something to be said about owning a house. For many years, due to my husband’s job, we lived in furnished apartments on college campuses. Some were nice and some were…er..not so nice. Drop-ceilings, walk-in showers (reminiscent of an 80′s gym locker room) and lack of closet and cabinets were like an HGTV reality show challenge. Every time we moved (which was about every two years), I thought Vern Yip was going to appear, cock his head to the side and say, “So, how are you going to make this space yours?”

Each place had its own architectural difficulties (long window, round windows…no windows) and a pre-set style and color scheme (yes, we even had navy blue cabinets at one point). So, making spaces work also meant collecting a heck of a lot of junk: five shower curtains, four kitchen rugs, three different sets of towels, two….turtle doves…  I never wanted to get rid of something, because I never knew when it would work for another apartment. Hence, why we currently cannot park our cars in our garage.

The garage. Yes, the place of mystery. Some have gone in and have never returned. I don’t let Madison go in there for that very reason. Well that, and things could fall on her and make her “flat, like a pancake” (her standard of measurement). Neighbors gasp when our garage door churns and squeaks open, and their eyes widen. I know they are wondering why we have a bike from 1982…with a flat tire…and a giant cobweb sitting front-and-center. I shrug and say, “ask the in-laws”.  The bike is so old that the spider, who lived on the cobweb, died and then I think a studio inquired about using it in a 4th-run horror flick. Yes, other people give us junk too.

We’ve lived in our house for 2 years now, and we HAVE tried to participate in our neighborhood garage sale. Twice a year, it’s come and it’s gone. There’s always a torrential storm with flooding (making National news)…or a baby being born… But this year, so help me God, if I have to buy a full-size cardboard cut out of Tom (Cruise, not Myspace) and bring in a high school orchestra to play a little 1996 “Mission” music to remind me that I will be reaping enough money to buy a box of Starbuck’s Via…I will! Multi-colored stickers WILL be affixed and the cash box will be in use, or you will have to cover the ears of small children within a 50-mile radius!

You think I jest? I just brought out the Cheetos. A person with Cheetos, with the possibility of being swallowed by a “Cheetos Cloud” at any second, does not jest. I assure you…

Ok, apparently I was wrong.

(It is good to know that those that are overseas do have a sense of humor.)

The fact is, being able to park our cars in our garage is a good thing; being able to get into our cars, while in the garage…also a good thing. October is when the neighborhood garage sale rolls around. October is not that far away. Why does the garage sale also have to be the same month that I’m probably finishing sewing costumes for the girls?

I digress…

There’s something about a house. There’s something about knowing that the 64″ moss green drapery, from apartment number 4, will be in someone else’s good hands (or garage) soon. October. If all goes well, and those moss green drapery panels sell for more than $5, maybe we’ll be able to buy power tools…landscaping…furniture…paint…re-design… er… more Cheetos…

(BTW, these don’t even compare!!! Just sayin’…)