You should see our basement. No, actually, you shouldn't. It's not the face we're interested in presenting to the world. It's not even a face we're comfortable presenting to ourselves. In fact, I think of it as the darkest corner of our psyche come to life. You never know what you will find down there. Yesterday evening, for example, our smoke detector started beeping -- the dreaded low battery alert -- so I went downstairs to find a replacement battery. In the course of about three minutes of searching, I found: a sad cache of 9 volt batteries (all corroded), some butcher's twine, a roll of neon green duct tape I'd been looking for a few months ago, a stack of bills and bank statements from 2011, about 7 single socks, an ice cream maker, a child's purple rain boot, an empty can of La Croix seltzer, a wad of yellowing paper towels that we had jammed into a corner when our washing machine flooded about a year ago and, next to the old leather club chair we used to have in our living room and now serves as our thing-to-pile-other-things-on, three rectangular cedar planks, the kind you use to grill salmon.
Cedar Plank Salmon
Cedar Plank Salmon
Cedar Plank Salmon
You should see our basement. No, actually, you shouldn't. It's not the face we're interested in presenting to the world. It's not even a face we're comfortable presenting to ourselves. In fact, I think of it as the darkest corner of our psyche come to life. You never know what you will find down there. Yesterday evening, for example, our smoke detector started beeping -- the dreaded low battery alert -- so I went downstairs to find a replacement battery. In the course of about three minutes of searching, I found: a sad cache of 9 volt batteries (all corroded), some butcher's twine, a roll of neon green duct tape I'd been looking for a few months ago, a stack of bills and bank statements from 2011, about 7 single socks, an ice cream maker, a child's purple rain boot, an empty can of La Croix seltzer, a wad of yellowing paper towels that we had jammed into a corner when our washing machine flooded about a year ago and, next to the old leather club chair we used to have in our living room and now serves as our thing-to-pile-other-things-on, three rectangular cedar planks, the kind you use to grill salmon.