Last week we cleared a mountain of crap off this garage shelf:

Today I cleared a mountain of wine off the garage floor:

And I cleaned out the garage refrigerator. And poured out an entire forgotten 12-pack of carbonationless Sprite that expired in 2016. And scrubbed the weird yellowish liquid that perpetually weeps down the garage walls and no the drywall isn’t peeing and we aren’t aliens or witches so don’t even think any of that or I’ll put a hex on you.

Also: It’s a delicate balance to scrub the grime off the garage-door opener without repeatedly opening and closing the garage door. It’s like Jenga. Or Jengarage. Or Garenga.

I! HAVE! DUSTED! ALL! THE! WINES!

Three days until the carnage!

Family culinary update

1. I just dusted all the wine bottles and re-racked them with an artfully devil-may-care randomness that fills the house with boho-chic bistro insouciance.
2. I had frosted cookies and Diet Coke for dinner.
3. I can't decide if I'm ashamed or just cataclysmically sugar-crashing.
4. The cookies had sprinkles. I am defenseless around sprinkles. So don't you even think about judging me.
5. Just typing the word "sprinkles" is giving me a cataclysmic insulin crash.
6. Insulin is produced in a part of the pancreas called the islets of Langerhans.
7. I once scored a bonus 10 points on a biology pop quiz for knowing about the islets of Langerhans.
8. "Islets of Langerhans" is as fun to say as "sprinkles."
9. And when you say them together, you maintain a linguistic glucose equilibrium.
10. Mom just said "plating." Nobody in our family has ever said "plating."
11. Sprinkles!
12. Islets of Langerhans!
13. Plating!
14. Sprinkles!
15. Orange you glad I didn't say banana?