Screwed (It's not what you think)

Today, I replaced three lights on the front of our house.
Two guarding the garage and one guarding the main entry.

Note: Our garage contains the Harley’s so it gets more protection.
Another Note: This job involved electrical wiring.

I know nothing about this other than it can hurt you real bad if you aren’t careful.

Julie and I picked out the lights yesterday as we considered new paint schemes for the exterior.

So I put them on today because the originals were all in some state of disrepair. Now I will get to remove them again when we paint the place. The spacing screws that were used to properly attach the lights to the house weren’t the proper length. I needed others so I consulted the “Great Screw Box”.

This is a small Craftsman toolbox that, instead of tools, contains hundreds of different types of nuts, bolts and (you guessed it) screws. I have been saving these puppies from projects as in “I wonder where this goes? Aw hell, I’ll just toss it in The Great Screw Box”… for well over thirty years. This is because you never know when you are going to need an odd one and today… I did. It doesn’t happen very often for me, maybe once every couple of years or less. The Box didn’t let me down this time. I got the screws I needed.

There’s something about this Box that intrigues me… it represents the collection of a lifetime and it is certainly headed for an estate sale one day as my son and daughter don’t generally mess with tools, screws or anything associated except in an emergency.

Sure would be something if I could pick up one at random, blow on it and get whisked back in time to the day I threw it in there. That would certainly have me rummaging around for the oldest one. It would also add new meaning to the term, “Screwed”.