• ⇤
• ⇽
• ≡
• ⇾
• ⇥

today, the storage unit

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Today we really lived it up, clearing out the storage unit for the first time in three and a half years. I have a habit of remembering certain old possessions I'd like to see again, and when they don't turn up, to worry. And so it was with an old and much-scratched watch that my Opa gave my shortly before his death, and an Timex "Iron Man" watch that I got by climbing the CN tower in my twenties; Mari had said she'd wear it on the weekends if it turned up. Neither did. Ditto a variety of other things I know I've seen since we moved here (my old firearms acquisition certificate comes to mind for some reason).

As tiring as it was, it went well. The kids entertained themselves gathering the bumper crop of acorns in the yard (being in the shed meant constantly hearing the sound of the things raining down), or playing with the old ball chair that Mari inflated for them. We even conducted the whole thing without descending into divorce; I must have married well.