Tearin' Down the Gararge

Did you know that New Englanders say "gararge" instead of the proper mid-American "garage?" It is kind of hilarious to hear people say it over and over. To be honest I can't get through a conversation on the topic with a blue blooded Yankee without giggling a bit.

We've been planning on tearing down the gararge ever since we saw it, but since we're moving it didn't make sense to spend the money it would take to build a new one. (Estimates ranged from $8,000 - $25,000.) Soon after deciding to move, we decided we should leave the gararge and spend our money on completely finishing the interior of our humble abode.

Last summer we built a patio/deck, which significantly increased the loveliness of our backyard. As we lounged one evening under our all-providing-maple-tree Seth commented how nice our backyard looks now, and how it will be a nice picture to have on the listing when we do put our house up.

Then we noticed how difficult it is to take any picture of the exterior of the house without the gararge imposing its abandoned, falling down charm into the frame.

Then we were horrified by the realization that this gararge, by far the worst feature of the property, is the first and last thing any potential buyer will experience when they visit our house!

Clearly it had to go.

We installed a metal shed in the back yard to house our meager but growing supply of lawn implements. It took a little longer than expected.

Then Seth started the gararge demolition. The first thing he had to do was climb on top of this building, which, for the past six years we've been assuming could fall over at any time. I watched in horror from the designated "safe zone" as Seth spent nearly 2 days on top of the gararge. (Seth wouldn't have Thunder or me anywhere near the deconstruction site during these dangerous moments!)

On Saturday and Sunday I was able to help take some of the walls apart, and I have to tell you, we were overjoyed to discover that there were two layers of shingles underneath the plywood exterior of each wall.

Once we got the shingles off of the outside, we had to take the cardboard lining off of the inside. I'm telling you, this building was truly a piece of art. It belongs in a museum.

This is when Seth found a snake in the wall and flung it passed me into the yard. No further comments.

We quickly filled the dumpster we were renting and called to have it dumped and brought back. By Monday evening Seth pretty much had the whole gararge down, its pieces scattered here and there waiting for room in the dumpster.

On Tuesday morning at 6am, Seth and I were fast asleep. The sound of a diesel truck crawling up our hill slowly filled my senses until, now awake, I realized that the truck was here to take the dumpster away. I assumed based on no factual information that they didn't need anything from Seth or me, and fell back asleep. At 7am, diesel truck sounds saved my from my snake infested dreams and I realized that we had an empty dumpster to fill.

Seth got up immediately, had breakfast and got to work filling it up. By Tuesday evening the dumpster was full, the remains of the gararge floor and foundation were power-washed and the yard was, in general, spic-and-span.

Seth's a hard worker! He makes me feel like a lazy lounge lizard.

Thursday the dumpster was picked up and now it's as though nothing ever happened! Except, you know ... there's no gararge anymore. Where'd it go? I think it heard there was a snake in the yard and hi-tailed it outta here!

I can't say I blame it.