the art of grime

one mans magical relationship with basement crud

This seems to happen often enough that one might like to call it a ‘traditional reflection’.

Yet again, I’m sitting here in the basement in between Christmas and New Years and I’m tidying up the wood / tool / utility room / my hovel and I’m reflecting on life.

Right now?

Right now, I’m on a pause from scraping up the crap that accumulates between a couple of cracks in the floor.

(to do this well, I would also use my shop vac but that is at a job so my home will have to wait)

I tend to spend a fair bit of time at this time of year tidying up my basement, organizing my tools.

There are even systems where I know where to put stuff and I frequently remember.

But scraping out the cracks?

I only do that every couple of years. I could do it more.

Or?

I could put down a more finished floor, something with far fewer cracks.

But it wouldn’t matter.

I’d find some other dirty little crack to scrape out.

Because sometimes?

There’s nothing more soothing than getting down on your hands and knees and cleaning some…