My Garage Is Falling Down

My garage is falling down. Literally. It is tilting like the leaning tower of Piza. It used to be just a charming list to one side but has now become comical. I not so secretly hope for a strong wind to knock it down so I can demo the thing and rebuild with the insurance money.

My ancient garage door strains to remain on track, and its days are numbered. It had been jammed for weeks and I was beginning to fear that it would snow and I would have to cut a hole in a wall to get the snow blower out. My dad, who was visiting for the Thanksgiving weekend, offered to take a look at it. My dad is a retired engineer who until recently could fix anything. I have inherited some of this gene, with my ability to use the wire from two place card holders and dental floss to dress the Thanksgiving turkey. But he's not as sharp as he used to be, and I knew this project could take all afternoon with about a 50% chance of success. Regardless, dad and devoted daughter trudged out to the garage with my independent woman's tool box and a flashlight. My Mom doubtfully said, "Tools? Gee you are optimistic that you will actually find something to fix!" I said, no mom, optimistic would be if it opened when I tried to demonstrate its failure to Dad.

Wouldn't you know that the damn thing opened on the first try? I think it took one look at my dad approaching and said "I will not fight this man." Bring on the snow!