Got the will so found a way!

The saying is that a picture is worth a thousand words. How would you caption this?

It’s not much of a swan song but it’s pretty appropriate for the ending to what I once called my own personal fairy tale. Tragic? Embarrassing? Fitting? In the end I just settled for y’all ain’t gonna believe this $&@&!

A year after I moved out someone bought the dwelling I formerly called home. The 2 men formerly in my life who had been living there had to clear out-clean up and get it ready for the new owners. Having been Uhh-rudely reminded that I had signed a decree that everything left there no longer belonged to me-I didn’t have much of a role in the final move (other than to nag to be sure it was getting done). Turns out an ex-wife nagging is less effective than a wife’s nagging.) In the end I was granted a few last items. They were moved to the landfill called a garage. 

Issue: the items were large-my daughters bed, a bookcase, a washer and 4 chairs. They had to be out of the house by Thursday.  I have a compact car. 

Where there is a will there is a way. Aren’t I full of pithy little phrases today. I worried and fretted on how to get those things from there to here all weekend. In the end,  I kept coming to the same conclusion: it had to be out of there and I have a compact car. 

But I’ve got one hell of a will…so I found a way. 


I recruited my son-my skeptic and doubtful son who stared to complain  but took one look at my face and promptly changed his mind. Wise man. He wordlessly got in my compact car and away we went. 

He managed to remain silent even as we hit our first obstacle-the power was out so we couldn’t even get the garage door open. He was smart enough to not point out our little set back. 

Eventually we got in and surveyed the mess. My bequeathed gifts sat in the middle of the filth. 

The washer proved to be challenging. A few tears, a lot of sweat and more than one swear word were involved. I almost quit. My son wanted to quit. But I don’t tend to have that gear and it had to be done. Had to. So we shoved and heaved and pushed and pulled until the washing machine was in the dolly-sort of-and off I went. My son calling, “..this so has to go in your blog…” as I maneuvered down the road with my load. 

Next-a bookcase and the box springs. Those were easier to get on the dolly but handled like my dads 66 mustang with non-power steering the first time I drive it with whimpy-noodle arms. This time homeslice yelled…”can you imagine how this looks. How we look….” As I headed out. By now I am laughing because it is going on my blog and I can imagine how we look. cra-cra

The mattress was almost more than I could take. Too heavy to carry, too big for the car, too unyielding for the trolley. Had to call on that will again…and some rags we found in the garage floor. Compact car owners tend to NOT have bungee cords. We rigged and pulled and got it up on the roof.. Pulled the cord to tie it on and ….of course…the cord wasn’t long enough. A few more curses and I declared,”just drive”. He started to object-saw my face and quickly got into the car. We each grabbed an end, pulled and hard as we could and slammed the door. Redneck-check. Desperate-yep. Stupid-probably. But guess what…it worked! 

“That’s what this family does Mom-we get it done.” It’s not always pretty-it’s not always the right or the best way—but we’ve got will and we found a way. My 2 car garage now only holds the car that doesn’t run and 2 washers, a leather couch with a hole in it, a bed and enough garage sale junk to hopefully fund 2 days at the beach after we visit the lovely metropolis of Tifton, Ga as we chase gold in a few weeks. But the door closes. I’ve done my part and I’ve taught–no I’ve shown my boy-where there is a will there is always a way. Even more importantly-i showed him that even fat ladies can be strong. šŸ™‚


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: