A day dedicated to a dumpster may not sound exciting to the average individual. I've never claimed to be average, take that as you may. For my innate purging and organizing need, Dumpster Day screams excitement.
I grew up a few hops and skips away from our current home. Dumpster Day has been a neighborhood association sponsored event for as long as I can remember. As a child I didn't care so much for the organizational masterpiece that it offered. My brother and I would spend the day climbing through the dumpster with the other neighbor kids looking for amazing treasures and potential fort building supplies. It may sound dangerous and possibly gross, but trust me it was cool. The small nail puncture wounds and subsequent tetanus shot were minor road bumps. Kids these days are coddled. We turned out alright.
Anyhow. I rounded up the troops (the husband) and we tackled the garage. I've come to the conclusion that the previous owners of our house loved stuff. It didn't have to be nice, attractive or really even useful. If they had it, they kept it. Not my style.
Before shots.
Progress shots.
And sweet success.
I really should have counted the number of nails, screws and impossibly stubborn L-brackets that we removed. Let me just say you would be impressed. A little power washing, hole filling, sanding and painting to be done. Then... drum roll please... organizing.
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