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…