I know each of you following this tale of woe is on the edge of your chair, gulping coffee so you can stay awake long enough to learn the outcome of this misadventure. For you, there will be no sleep until there is some kind of resolution. Will I find my drill or will the elusive tool once again scurry by, just out of my field of vision, and survive undetected for another month or two in the Mess That Is The Garage? Read on, Soldiers of the Search, and you will soon know as much about this calamity as I.
The other day I finished building the shelving in the garage and rebuilt the work bench. There's just something entirely wrong about using a bench someone else designed. When I say entirely wrong, I'm talking about something at the molecular level. Like, there should be a separate branch of physics to describe and deal with the phenomenon. Travis, Jeff, Ron, Will, Roger - there's a Nobel Prize in here somewhere - go for it! Or maybe it's just because I'm a lefty in a world full of right handed souls. Nothing fits as it should. My tools wind up where someone else wants them, and I spend the first hour or so of any project looking for them and just getting organized in general. Well, that has been fixed. MY workbench is complete and I can now look through my collection of Popular Mechanics magazines from the 50''s and 60's and pick various cool things to build. All I need is my drill.
I started to get rid of The Mess by hauling the half mile of garden hoses outside to a nearby flowerbed and neatly coiling them behind a large plant of some kind. It was the perfect hiding place. Then, I started filling my brand new shelves with boxes and pretty soon the waist high pile was at knee level. The shelves still had room on them so I continued. Within several minutes enough wall space had been uncovered that I could position my air compressor in it's new home and the special spike that had been pulled from the wall in Los Alamos and carried across several state lines, was pounded into position to hold one hundred feet of air hose in readiness for the next flat tire.
More boxes went on more shelves, and now all that was left was an ankle high collection of odds and ends that will have to be sorted, item by item, and placed in an as yet to be determined spot just for it. So far, so good, but the news is terrible.
You've all seen the commercial where a guy in a crane is trying to tear down a building by using a big overstuffed bunny as a wrecking ball? That's a really big bunny and I feel like it just hit me in the head. I can now see most of the garage floor and there is no sign of the drill. It must be in one of the 56 boxes or 11 five-gallon pails that are now proudly sitting on my new shelves. That means I still have to go through boxes till I locate the dang thing. Shoulda just hired the teens to toss everything and bought a new one.
Stay tuned for the next installment of the continuing saga of the errant drill. There will be good news someday.
Forrest, you know for a fact that the best way to find the old drill is to buy a new one. The old one will show up lickety-split. They always do.
ReplyDeleteBoomer has that one right. I spent a month turning my hangar upside down over and over looking for some red LEDs I had bought for the interior lighting on the Cub. I finally gave up and bought another set. Yep, this week there they were, sitting in a box full of parts that I'm sure I looked in at least 8 times during the search. Ok, so now I have a spare set. Maybe they'll go in the KR some day.
ReplyDelete'Morning, Boomer and Jeff. Ya know that's happened to me before. Think I'll take your advise and head over to Home Depot to pick up one with super all-the-latest-features included. I'll put the unopened box in plain sight so it can be seen by the old one that fits my hand so well. I'll bet you guys are right - he'll come out of hiding in a day or two!
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