When one door closes, goes a new version of an old saying, the other one won’t open.
For many years, that described the twin doors of my two-car garage, where I couldn’t park even one car because of all the junk in there. But I did, depending on the weather, have snow, sleet, rain and autumn leaves because one of the doors had a gap I could stick my empty head through.
Then there were critters, especially crickets, which sang for their supper while my wife, Sue, and I were having ours. I’m surprised we didn’t have a plague of locusts. Or a family of squirrels. They would have driven me more nuts than I already am.
