Page One Hundred-Twelve.
I'm currently engaged in one of the most gruesome special projects I've ever undertaken. I'm deep cleaning the Shapiro's basement*. See page seventeen of this blog for the background, or part one, of this story. But in a nutshell, the Shapiros moved into their home in the early '70's and have had the basement cleaned twice prior to now. Both times I was the unlucky sap who did it. But, both of those times it was really more of a straightening up affair than an actual deep cleaning. I was allowed to throw away almost nothing. And immediately upon finishing, both times, it was messed up again by young boys. This time, I'm really allowed to eliminate stuff.
Last December when I began this project, I loaded up an entire U-Haul truck with crud and was allowed to neutralize it all. That element to this project probably eliminated 75% of all the unsavory detritus. What's left is the most messy and cluttered workroom you've ever seen, so many tarantula skeletons you can't believe it, 732,216,929,738 cans of dried paint, all the authentic cobwebs left over from the filming of Raiders of the Lost Ark, and lots of old porch furniture. And keep in mind, this is the basement to a five thousand square foot home; so this basement is sizable. And I'm telling you, it's gross.
The Shapiros are getting older and one of these days it'll be time to sell and that's why they're letting me do what I do rather well: throw things out and organize what's left. In fact, Mr. Shapiro had some surgery last week to increase his mobility. But, at a certain point the surgery will no longer work. Mobility issues and stairs don't mix. The asset here, though, is that he might, finally, be willing to get rid of some of his tools. Therefore, I can clean and straighten his workroom which is one massive mess. I know that Habitat For Humanity would gladly accept these items and I wouldn't have to clean around them a fourth time in another decade (by which time I'll begin having my own mobility issues).
Won't you please help and pray that he allows me to get rid of his tools? I'd appreciate it.
Slightly off the subject, their next door neighbors are putting an addition on their home. Now, that's nothing noteworthy, except for the tiny detail that the house next door is massive, perhaps eight thousand square feet or more. There are two powder rooms on the first floor, one on each end of the home; there's a full kitchen on the third floor (the old servants quarters); the dining room is oval and still has the original 1920's hand-painted pastoral garden scene on the walls and aside from the main bedrooms on the second floor there's another distant wing with four more large guest bedrooms and accompanying baths. (Once, in the '80's, I watched the house for the weekend while the former homeowners were out of town. I gave myself a self-guided tour and got turned around and lost on the third floor, literally.) Who in the world puts an addition on a home like this? And what in the world is needed? The Shapiros are even curious about this and it takes a lot to get their eyebrows raised. What's confusing is the addition itself.
Lena Shapiro told me that the neighborhood gossip has it that it's going to be something of a spa. I can sort of see that with perhaps an indoor/outdoor pool with retractable covering. It also looks like they may be building a decorative river or the most bizarrely shaped pool ever. For the time being, they've completely ripped out all the green space in back: an area maybe 75' X 75'. That's where they're doing the work. I can't wait to see how they put it back together again. But, as I said to Lena, "they're keeping a lot of people employed". She agreed.
*The Shapiros are the family whom I lived with for eight years during the '80's and early '90's and who's three boys I nannied.
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