Herb challenged me to a second blog post in one day, so here it is... a short one....
There were three things in the Fire Island house that MATTERED in the big ways things matter to us: a Danish teak table that I planned to put in the office, and two vintage Danish chairs with woven seats. They were supposed to be placed here, beside the wood stove or with the table in the office. In Fire Island, all had been in two feet of standing water, but I had used some bleach on them to knock back the mold and unknowns. I would have brought them back with me, but the table was two inches too big for the back of my car, and the chairs would have fit without anything else, and there was all that "else" to bring here. So I hired this kid I sort of knew before he was born (political correctness aside I sort of knew his mother when she was pregnant). He has a reputation as a "good kid."
He agreed to truck the salvageables here but he seems somewhat....ADHD if you know what I mean.
I told him that while there were things I wanted, these three things were the crucial ones and there were blankets aplenty there for wrapping them....I told him that several times. I told that to his brother-in-law who brought the new truck without salt water in the engine block from Colorado. I told them that they could stay here over night if they needed to.
Do you know what's coming?
Can you tell?
Do you remember the post from June 30th about Midnight Movers here in VT?
Well, we got a "good news and bad news" call at about 12:30.
"We got to Bayshore (the mainland). That's the good news. But those two chairs you wanted? They blew off the truck on the bridge. A good carpenter can probably put the pieces back together. I forgot my truck mesh on the mainland and the wind got under the rope that was tying the leg to the truck. "
Let's see ...twenty minutes in and the chairs are blowing off the truck...And he has another 5 hours of highway driving.
Oh well... It's only stuff. And I know that. I even believe that. But there is something in that stuff that is the embodiment of those childhood routines. And of what we believe childhood to have been. Or at least what we were told childhood was. The family myth is a powerful drug. So I am a little addicted even though I have gone "cold turkey".
Anyway, it's 7:13. I spoke to the "kid" about an hour ago. His brother-in-law is still driving. First the "kid" said he was close. Then he said his brother-in-law was still in Massachusetts, about two hours away. "He'll be there around 8:30 but if that's too late for you, he can find a place to crash." Not a word one wants to hear under the circumstances.
Have I told you the story of the load of my belongings that were in storage when I returned to Vermont after 6 months living in Fire Island (!!)??? The guy who was trucking them 25 miles from the storage locker to the rental house stopped while crossing the train tracks, and the truck was hit by a train.
No I didn't make that up.
The most important lessons are the ones we have to learn a thousand times...