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Moving day, the return.
We finally enter the house, contact the people that will deliver our boxes and saxophones. Ernie gets the best spot in the house, it's all vibrating with pleasure about the humidity. I am not sure yet which way I want to commit suicide, but it seems that unloading the trailer should do it just fine.
Luckily Lise gets some help, four students that want to make some extra buck. We make the poor souls (1 kid and 3 girls) work like mules, also with the help of the trailer driver. It is a massacre, sort of a Little Big Horn of the boxes, of the backs, of the knees.
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Unloading time. We are waiting for the truck
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Ernie has gained a nice safe place in the house. A little battered but happy to meet so much humidity
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And here is our load. Ohmygod it's all messed up!
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Hold it so it doesn't fall, would you? So I can take a picture for the insurance company ...
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All boxes inside ... why is so dark? it's getting late ...
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... and we have no electricity!!
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I survive though, and a little more than a couple hours the whole house is filled with boxes and boxes. Some of them boxes (Matthew! don't pack heavy books in weak cardboard boxes!) have been thrown around during the journey, luckily very little is broken, I would say just a little damage has been done to the bikes, and it should be easy to fix.
And most important ... my saxophones are safe! They stand like monoliths holding the fury of the elements, my wonderful bookshelf (a.k.a. scafandro) (thanks Bernardo!) has withstood the fury of the moving boxes, the strong crates that came from Hong Kong with Noel's stuff (thanks buddy, they served me great!) have brought safely our junk, sorry, accumulated treasures to this side of the US.
And what's more and unbelievable: the whole left of the load that tried with much verve to break loose and destroy my bicycle and make a mess of our ... treasures, has been miraculously stopped by my junky director chair. It's something that had to be seen, unfortunately I was to busy directing the slaves, pardon, the helpers that I couldn't find the time to click one for you people, but it was really something that should have been on 'Ripley's believe it or not'.
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Everything goes fine, nobody gets hurt, it's as hot as hell, just way more humid, I am still alive (but barely) and we finally get our prize: to sleep in our house tonight.
Cool, huh? Well, not so cool for us, since there is no electricity still, so no air conditioning (did I ever say that I don't like air conditioning? I take it back!), but it is home sweet (and hot) home, after all. Boxes are all here, Ernie is as happy as a plant can be, we set the mattress on the floor and deposit our sore bodies over it, avoiding to trip in boxes and stuff, not even knowing where the clean underpants are: we'll think about that tomorrow.
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