Simple enough: get poked for blood draw (performed ably by Gabrielle, my favorite Romanian phlebotomist, who besides being cute as a bug, revels in the delicious irony of being a professional vampire and Transylvanian…), eat, run errands, run some storage tubs out to our storage locker.

Well we got to the storage locker and realized that we’ve been talking for two or more years about straightening it out and we never really have and we really need to particularly if we’re going to fit those 6 new tubs in and there’s a lot of cruft here that can either go to the trash or to the conviently-just-down-the-street Salvation Army thrift store/drop point and the weather is nice and I’ll just get started and…

…almost two hours, and two runs to Salvation Army, and countless on-foot trips to the on-site dumpster later, the storage locker is in remarkably good shape, reasonably organized, and still the hibernation place for my ’65 Mustang, which hasn’t moved from that spot in almost 9 years now. 😦 I just don’t have any place to work on it. I miss having that car where I can do something with it.


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