So, your garage is an unmitigated disaster (as opposed to a mitigated disaster). Dusty, half-filled paint cans are everywhere. Poisonous wasp sprays, weed killer and fertilizer are in the open – and, unfortunately, accessible to the kids. Your tools and golfing equipment are scattered everywhere. And the kids’ balls are constantly rolling off your low-budget open shelves into the middle of the garage floor. You GET TO play ‘pick up,’…

The 3 car garage in this brand spankin’ new production home looked fine to me as I walked up the driveway, I had an appointment to add garage storage cabinets in this Columbus Ohio suburban home. The garage still smelled of fresh paint. There weren’t even nicks on the walls…. yet.

As I measured and talked to the new owners, I learned some disturbing construction design problems which weren’t obvious to the naked (as opposed to the fully…

Are you used to driving into your garage and seeing a mess? Can of paint stacked in a haphazard fashion on open shelves. Extension cords, gloves and potting soil in a jumbled mess. Shovels with caked on mud and rakes with a errant leaves still holding on propped against the garage sidewalls (just waiting for someone to trip on them). Your concrete garage floor a mixed-up brew of dirt, leaves, oil stains with a few good cracks thrown in for…

Are you tired of your “walk in closet?” Is it hard to claw your way into it because your clothes are jammed in like sardines? Is your garage a cluttered disaster-area with heaps of little-used storage containers, sporting equipment the kids haven’t pulled out for years and holiday lights – half of which don’t work? Is your laundry room a source of constant frustration? Mixed up piles of dirty and clean clothes eating up the floor. No…

Isn’t driving into your garage on a wintery day depressing? An un-glorious (not sure that’s a word) mixture of slush, dirt and leaves make a crunching sound under your tires (and feet when you get out of the car). You have the “beautiful” (sarcasm intended) view of too many unorganized cans, gloves and yard equipment staring you in the face – almost speaking to you saying “clean us up. Organize us – PLEASE!”

As winter breathes its final gasps…

I was delusional when my wife Rose and I built our suburban 4-bedroom home on a lake 23 years ago. I created a den off the kitchen with traditional glass doors and a stately mahogany desk to be my private sanctuary – a place just for me. A place to read (one of my hobbies). A place to write (I was able to finish a book project and eventually morph into blogging). A place to pay bills (those doggone things come every day whether I like it or…