THREE MEN AND A TRUCK
We're getting some new furniture. It came in earlier than we expected, which means we aren't ready and had to delay delivery for a week. It also means that we got ourselves in gear to redistribute the old stuff.
So today, it was up and cooking breakfast early for the moving crew. In the spirit of make-do Americans past and present, at least those in our families, Ben said he would like our old sectional sofa. I think it's in the blood, as well as the bank account, because Brian and I were handed down a sofa from his folks for our first rental home--and we were glad to get it, I might add.
We were so excited to sleep in our rented farmhouse that first night before our other furniture arrived (notably, my childhood canopy bed, sans canopy) that we slept side-by-side on our used sofa.
So at 7:45 a.m. today, Sam was the first arrival and I began creating custom-order omelettes for the three of them.
Brian picked up the truck and the guys rolled to Indy not long after that. I had fully planned to go along and offer essential advice that every mom is good for -- "Be careful on those steps, you guys;" "Don't drop it!"; "Easy;" "Watch your fingers."
But before I could get on the road, a text came from a charity that I had given up on regarding taking our upstairs sofa and love seat. There was a chance they could pick them up at 11 if that worked. I said I'd stick around and see if it worked out. It didn't, but I was pleased to know that my trio down at Indy survived not only the move upstairs to Ben's apartment of the old sectional sofa, but also the move down and out of Ben's former used sofa. They got by without my, "Be careful in the door frame!"
When Brian got back to town, he called for me to head out to pick him up at the rental place. "That went about as smoothly as it could have," he assessed of the morning move.
Buoyed by the news, and it being a mere minutes after noon, we decided to delve into a related project. If your family is like ours, whenever there's a decorating project such as new furniture, that leads to another semi-related project. In our case, it's prep work for a revamp of our upstairs bonus room. That means many things, starting with weeding out a large number of books of all kinds. I'll save those details for another blog post.
Since I wasn't there to see the results, I asked Ben to text me a photo. He did, along with a photo of a meal he put together with some leftovers I sent him home with.
And, he sent this text, "Cannot believe the beloved Cronk couch is in my apartment."
Warms this mama's heart, for sure.
2/13/2020 03:28:55 am
I had also such an experience last year when I moved to New York from Washington with my family. Me, my brother and father were only three men who load two trucks in just one hour same as these guys.
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