Hello,
I have an old garage that is being removed to make room for something to keep a car in. It was built somewhere between 1929 and 1960. It is unpainted on the inside, with ancient, flaking, yellow and brown paint on the other. The roof is rotting, but the siding and wood floor are still good. I'll be keeping the door, window and some of the siding - possibly the whole North facade.
Is the wood something you or anyone else might be interested in having? It would have to be removed before the end of July.
Sincerely,
Leah Price
Sadly, he's knocking the garage down right away. I can't blame him - he's right that it's not fit to park a car in. But it is an absolute thing of beauty: the graceful way it slowly crumbles to the earth. The look on his face when I told him this... was I joking or insane?
It took me years to realize it, but I even love the ferns growing out of the roof, the wooden floor the skunks live beneath and the cobwebs. I love the rain pouring in, the paint peeling off, the chunks of roof - thick with wet, soft moss - slowly rotting. The ancient, brittle string still dangling from bent nails in the walls - what used to grow here, on the shady side of the garage, long before the hydrangea? Clematis, perhaps.
For years my husband's uninsured car lived here, thick with dirt and paw prints. When talk of separation began, I started photographing the wonky little building - anticipating the day his car would be gone and mine would be parked in its place. That's how the story would end, I thought; my garage would go on, quietly rotting, until it fell down completely - I only hoped my car wouldn't be in it when it happened.
Part of the sale agreement was that, when the garage was demolished, I could take the "Beaumont" badge, put there two owners before me, the portion of wall behind it, and any plants that would have to go. Mr. Cheung has kindly offered me the whole garage, so I am trying now to find it a home.
A friend wants some siding for an artist friend of his, but so far no one else is interested. If you have use for any of the wood, please let me know - there's plenty to go around.
I signed a lease this week, so it's official: I have a place to live. There's a huge - I mean huge - sunny back yard with an existing, jumbled up veggie garden I'm dying to get my hands on. But there's no shady spot to relax. What if I moved the whole North facade of the old garage to use for this, wouldn't that be cool? The old strings climbing with clematis, and the big lace cap hydrangea - which will surely be removed in the demolition - in its usual place beside the door. The view from my new kitchen window - a little piece of home.
More likely, I'll take the window and the door - and one last picture. The end of the story: a pile of splintered wood where there was once a building, an empty space where there was once a view from the house that was once my home. It's time to go, old garage - I'll smile when I think of you.
It took me years to realize it, but I even love the ferns growing out of the roof, the wooden floor the skunks live beneath and the cobwebs. I love the rain pouring in, the paint peeling off, the chunks of roof - thick with wet, soft moss - slowly rotting. The ancient, brittle string still dangling from bent nails in the walls - what used to grow here, on the shady side of the garage, long before the hydrangea? Clematis, perhaps.
For years my husband's uninsured car lived here, thick with dirt and paw prints. When talk of separation began, I started photographing the wonky little building - anticipating the day his car would be gone and mine would be parked in its place. That's how the story would end, I thought; my garage would go on, quietly rotting, until it fell down completely - I only hoped my car wouldn't be in it when it happened.
Part of the sale agreement was that, when the garage was demolished, I could take the "Beaumont" badge, put there two owners before me, the portion of wall behind it, and any plants that would have to go. Mr. Cheung has kindly offered me the whole garage, so I am trying now to find it a home.
A friend wants some siding for an artist friend of his, but so far no one else is interested. If you have use for any of the wood, please let me know - there's plenty to go around.
I signed a lease this week, so it's official: I have a place to live. There's a huge - I mean huge - sunny back yard with an existing, jumbled up veggie garden I'm dying to get my hands on. But there's no shady spot to relax. What if I moved the whole North facade of the old garage to use for this, wouldn't that be cool? The old strings climbing with clematis, and the big lace cap hydrangea - which will surely be removed in the demolition - in its usual place beside the door. The view from my new kitchen window - a little piece of home.
More likely, I'll take the window and the door - and one last picture. The end of the story: a pile of splintered wood where there was once a building, an empty space where there was once a view from the house that was once my home. It's time to go, old garage - I'll smile when I think of you.
