The pantry: not cleaned!

First, allow me to explain our pantry: it's not really a pantry. It's a breezeway. There's the back door, and then there's the outside back door, and between, there's a closet-ish space that we put leftover IKEA shelves into and christened the walk-in pantry (and, during winter months, a walk-in cooler.) It suits us fine, because while our kitchen isn't small, it's not blessed with much cabinet space.  Plus, we're Costco shoppers, and in Chicago, thirty-six rolls of TP can't be stored in the garage because then we'd be wiping our asses with newspaper or each others' pillowcases rather than trudging out in the snow to the carhole.

Stationed where it is, the pantry has become a place to put lots of stuff besides pantry items. Winter again becomes an issue here because when it's cold the gentlemen in this household prefer to let garbage pile up in the pantry area for a few days to really let the flavors meld before throwing it away in one massive, whiny effort. (The summer provides a little more olfactory incentive to throw the garbage away sooner than later.) So things like garden supplies and small tools find their way in there, along with seldom-used appliances and the three or four sets of wedding china we own. It's also the spot for things like light bulbs, cleaning equipment, picnic supplies, and computer parts that Peter insists he will someday re-use or refurbish or make a fucking headband out of, I don't know. The point is, it's yet another "catchall".

Here's the pantry when I walked in. You can see that it's just all over the place, with canned food and boxes and champagne alongside azalea food and crockpots and half-empty boxes of random crap. There's an old garbage can back there that I use as a recycling bin for paper, but I guess I never told anyone else about it because I'm the only one that uses it that way.

Now, as I mentioned, it's cold as balls back there, so I worked only my fifteen-minute minimum because my bare feet were freezing. Why not put on shoes, you say? Screw you, I do what I want. I'm going to say it's also because I need some time to think about what really belongs back there. Like the gallon of deck wash on the floor. Isn't that more of a garage thing? Then again, the pantry is closer to the deck than the garage is. Really, I need to watch an episode of 24 before I can make that decision with a clear head.

And here, my friends, is a demonstration of why I need to do this exercise: in my adorable vintage ice bucket that was sitting on a shelf there has been resting is a floret of broccoli cut from my garden at least four months ago. It was like broccoli powder in there. How I don't have a king rat living in my pantry is beyond me.

So here's where I left it: maybe half done with crap all over the floor still because I know I'm going to throw more stuff away. But it already looks better, so I'm going to call it a good first effort and go watch 24. Shut up! I said I do what I want!