Hommel Mangas
I left my open toolbox sitting on our back-porch table. We had an unexpected 2-inch downpour.
It was rookie mistake, so I had to dump the entire container of tools to drain the water they were stewing in. My toolbox isn’t the lidded red metal, multiple-drawer, portable mechanic toolbox — nope. My golf cart toolbox is a lightweight gray plastic caddy that sits openly on my bench seat, with holes in the side.
I did envision water draining better from the side holes.
My $7 little caddy has been quite handy for the past six months. I hop into the golf cart to move some freshly potted plants and, by chance, pass a dwarf conifer that’s in dire need of a quick emergency pruning. I grab my hand pruners in two seconds, because they are within reach and visible to my eye in the little gray caddy, and voila — the job is done. It seemed to rectify by bad habit of leaving my tools, like hidden Easter eggs, laying around the property as I wandered off to tackle another gardening distraction.
After dumping out the rain-water, I decided to clean, dry and sharpen my tools before reorganizing them in my little gray toolbox — two pairs of garden scissors, hori hori garden knife with sheath, Steve’s father’s 70-year-old weeding fork, a roll of plant-support binding twine, outdoor lighter, bungee strap, small hand rake and gloves. I couldn’t help notice that the “other people” who drive my golf cart had begun to put their stuff in my toolbox. I asked the “Mr.” if he wanted to continue to rent out space for his items in my toolbox. He removed the half-bag of utility binder ties that he used to help me in the garden, the left-over hose and faucet washers he had used to repair the outdoor leak, and the wrenches, screwdrivers and pliers — all used at my request.
Also found in my toolbox was an unlidded sippy cup, a toddler-size sport ball, one Matchbox tow-truck and three sticks the grandson had obviously place in there for emergency purposes while we had been touring the grounds and picking mulberries and flowers for his mom.
After cleaning out my little gray tool-box, I actually searched Amazon and found a “Golf Cart Front Basket Storage Basket Dash Basket”— it’s supposed to be compatible with my golfcart. Who knew these existed — except every golfer in Johnson County? One brand calls it a “Golf Cart Front Inner Basket,” also made of a metal mesh, and it looks to hold and organize over a dozen golf balls, phone, towels and six water bottles. It costs about $55 more than my little gray basket, but I’d never — ever — have to dump out rainwater.
It seems like an easy installation process. Of course, I’m going to have to head back to the barn to retrieve the wrenches and pliers the Mr. just put back.
Janet Hommel Mangas grew up on the east side of Greenwood. The Center Grove area resident and her husband are the parents of three daughters. Send comments to [email protected].
