The garage! Who knew? Not me. In fact, I've had some visionary ideas about trying to transform part of the garage into a hangout for Kevin for poker nights - but NEVER would have imagined myself out there for anything other than getting into the car and getting out of the car. I avoid the place because it's dusty, disorganized, too cold or too hot depending on the season, and tends to be home to varmints, vermin, critters, and creatures.
Naturally, when I decided to stain a wooden shelf I bought - I brought it inside and set up a little station for myself on the kitchen counter. The fumes from the combo stain and polyurethane nearly brain-damaged all my children. Plus, in a terrible accident, I splashed stain on my favorite shorts, both hands, my white countertop and my light-oak cupboard. It was horrifying. I'm sure I cussed. And me with no paint thinner or "mineral spirits" (which is just a nice way of saying paint thinner) - I spent the next several hours with sticky hands (think Chevy Chase in "Christmas Vacation" reading a magazine in bed with sap from his dream tree sticking his hands to the pages) and a "tan" spot on my thigh where the stain bled through the denim shorts.
Today, when it was time to apply the second coat, I got smart. Me, my stain, and my shelf went out into the garage. It was early afternoon. John was napping and Cayna and Bethanie were in "quiet time" upstairs. Come to find out, it was downright pleasant out there -- just me, Kevin's work bench, and my minivan. It wasn't too hot, and the humming from some unknown gizmo in the corner provided some nifty white noise that removed me from any of the distractions in the house. I was in another world. And it was the garage!
I'm happy to report the shelf got finished. The garage stinks now, but the house doesn't, and suddenly I have a new place to go when the pressures of the other ten rooms of the house get too overwhelming.