‘An attic is a great thing to have in a house’, they told me back in the day. I gullibly (well if there was no such word, there is now … and I’m in no mood for arguing) took the advice and we always had a ‘bit of an attic’ in every house we lived in. ‘Utilise your space’, everyone said; and so, when we built our dream home in Graftonstown, I finished up with an attic the full size of the house. It got better; we floored and shelved the entire area, and people even took photos of it. I had created a prototype.
You know where this one is heading, dear reader. It started off in an orderly and civilised manner. Boxes nicely stacked with labels instructing what was inside. The first small sign of what was to follow was when the word ‘Miscellaneous’ began to appear on boxes. Anyway, small furniture got moved up there; lamps, candles and enough Christmas decorations to set Mullingar on fire; TVs, computers, VHS players, pictures, picture frames, files, filing cabinets, 20 suitcases, souvenirs, trophies, a rocking horse, kids’ stuff, pub stuff, winter clothes and summer clothes … and that is before all control was lost.
For 22 years anything I didn’t know what to do with, I shifted up to the attic. Mrs Youcantbeserious was just as guilty, but she took the harm out of it for herself with the words ‘for now’ added; the full directive being, ‘stick that up in the attic for now’.
We never intended leaving that house before the day a crowd of you and Gene O’Donnell would escort us, one at a time, down to Killulagh Graveyard. The thought did occasionally occur to me as to the job our children and grandchildren would have ‘clearing’ the attic. I swore I would tackle it someday – but I never got around to it.
That was until, ‘events my dear boy …events’, and I evacuated Mrs Youcantbeserious and myself and we set about moving into the equally beautiful location of Irishtown. This move was in the arena of downsizing – and I want you to keep that thought in mind. The attic had to be cleared and the stuff moved!
Now, I don’t wish to bore you senseless or embarrass myself further. Like Johnny Cash with the car. ‘one piece at a time’, the full attic load went up one piece at a time and now had to come down in a hurry … and I’m not the man I was when I put it up there, ‘one piece at a time.’
Whatever else I am, I am not a jealous sort of person, but with all my heart, I came to envy the people I know who don’t have an attic. Meanwhile, I had to get on with the job … a one man job!
The Charity Shop got mentioned several times a day … and night. But first thing, everything had to come down … through a hatch where I wondered how it ever got up there. One piece at a time, I maneuvered it down and out to the big shed for sorting.
Under the stewardship of Mrs Youcantbeserious, three piles formed in the shed: one for charity, one for keeping and one for Lynch’s Recycling. The charity man came twice and eased the load – but now a fourth pile had formed; the ‘leave it for now and we’ll see’ pile.
Then we were out of there and our new house wasn’t vacant. So, all the piles became one and got moved to be stored in a vacant pub. Are you still with me?
All was safely stored in the pub until we could move it to Irishtown – along with other furniture.
Thank God, a big shed came with the new house … just what we need. Everything got moved into the shed before we officially got possession, thanks to Richard, the vendor. Then the moving in commenced ….
Smaller house, different shape –and some furniture and fittings just weren’t right. The fourth pile got bigger and bigger – even after our friend, the charity man, had again done his best for me.
At this juncture can I give some advice to any of you thinking of putting down floorboards in an attic. For your own sake, I beseech you to take out those planks and burn them before she gets ideas in her head. Repeat after me … ‘a house is for living in – not for storage space’.
We are now five months in this house we have come to love, just like the last one; fantastic neighbours and just a walk from the lake or the centre of town. The only stumbling block are the piles of ‘miscellaneous’ in the shed. Three of the bundles have shrunk considerably, but the fourth pile, ‘the wait and we’ll see’, has grown significantly.
A problem shared is a problem halved – and the solution has just come to me….
I’ll stick the whole shebang up in the attic …’for now!’
Don’t Forget
If you want to show your wife who is the boss … just go and buy her a mirror.
