I mean that universally in this time of craziness around our country; there are a few good people doing good works, still. Thank you if you’re one of them.
In my little world, things are also gonna get crazy here. The trailer will be picked up sooner than we expected, so, for the couple of days after our apartment lease starts, some stuff from the trailer has to go to the apartment, and some stuff from storage has to go to the apartment, and some stuff from the trailer has to go to storage. Frankly, none of that stuff matters as long as everything is out of the trailer by the time the tow truck arrives.
Tracy assures me it can all get done, but it’s going to be like that scene in Good Fellas where everything has to go exactly as planned, and between it all we have to run back to stir the sauce.
I guess Banjo is the sauce: we’re spending the first moving night in the trailer while the cheap/temp mattress expands in the apartment, so there will be a lot of going back and forth among all three places, and Banjo needs to never be left in the apartment alone at first (so as not to freak her out). Hopefully, our outcome will be better than nearly everyone’s in that movie.
The people who have been doing what I imagine they think are small things to help are actually saving the day for us. Good people: that’s one reason I chose Madison.
Guy and Patti, pictured here at the disappointing Curd Fest (The company was stellar! Cheese, not so much) have taken delivery of our mattress, and they’ve loaned us a furniture dolly.
Doug’s son (not pictured, but Doug is, from a neighborhood festival we met at that’s near where we want to buy a house; this was its 60th anniversary!) … where was I? Doug’s son is going to help us move the larger items from storage into the apartment. We are officially at the age when you should not ask your friends to help you move, but you can pay their kids! And Doug’s son is literally the only able-bodied, willing young person we know in Madison. What a life-saver.
This is a not-great photo of our real estate agent because I haven’t asked him if I could use one of him, but I’m sure he would be obliging. He has put up with my million questions about the process and Tracy’s second thoughts about a house and our two attempts at buying houses, all with expert advice and unwavering patience.
Not a photo of a person (clearly, duh), but three cheers to the lady selling these dishes on Facebook who volunteered to hold them for me until after our move, so I don’t have to add them into the crazy Good Fellas day mix. I may have been moosapointed in Alaska, but I will have a few moose of my own in my kitchen.
Wish us luck as the helicopters start circling overhead. (That’s a reference to the movie; I hope we don’t warrant helicopters ourselves.)
Moving is a stressful time no matter the circumstances… but yes, I wish you smooth sailing with the logistics of this one. If you had picked Maine I would have been happy to help, or at least babysit Banjo while everyone else threw their back out.
😉
LOL, everyone throwing their backs out while Banjo watches is exactly what will happen! Thanks for that imagery there. 🙂
I was going to mention the helicopters but you beat me to the punch. I don’t know if you were reading me when I first wrote about this, but I once emailed the real Henry Hill asking him whether he really did use a razor blade to slice garlic for his spaghetti sauce. He confirmed this was true. What can I say? I’m proud of my close brush with the Mob, ha!
What a brilliant detail to be included! Why did you write him about that, though?
I was looking for an excuse to reach out, and foodie that I am, that was the best question I could come up with! (Apparently, thinly sliced garlic imparts more flavor when cooking. I did it, once, but it’s an awful lot of trouble.)