So, Now How Do We Get It Home?

Newest family member

Last week we had a big Saturday pancake breakfast complete with sausage, real maple syrup, juice, and coffee. Mmmmm. And after such a large breakfast you are left with ,yes, a HUGE mess to clean up, but also the urge to lie down and sleep it off. Which means that every bite of pancake then becomes a fatty deposit somewhere. Or, alternatively, you can go for a nice walk around the block. Which we did. Mainly because after giving Little Man maple syrup, there was NOT going to be any kind of napping.

Just around the corner from our house... Okay, down the street, around the corner and over the hill... there was an estate sale going on. Estate sales simultaneously excite me and depress me. I like the idea of finding great deals on treasures that should be preserved, but I am saddened because the person these treasures belonged to is no longer around. For whatever reason - death, financial difficulties, family difficulties, down-sizing - someone had to let go of their lifetime of stuff. And no matter how many times we may say, we need less stuff, our stuff is our stuff and we want it.

Anyway, while combing through this home that had once housed children (who by the looks of the items had grown up and gone off on their own) and pets, and readers, and someone who cooked, I spied an upright piano. It was hidden behind some things and was used as a surface to display other things and perhaps, for a number of years, it had done just that. Sort of like that well intentioned exercise machine that ends up being a thing on which to hang clothes.

We'd been considering getting Little Man into music lessons and quite possibly a keyboard of some kind. Here was our chance. A real piano at an affordable price. A quick call to my mother who knows all things piano since she has the music gene I lack, and she let us know what to look for. We examined the piano in a manner that I'm sure disturbed the Christian ladies running the sale and was unsuitable for viewing by small children. After we determined that it was indeed a good deal, Husband wrote the check. The lady said have it out by 3 pm. And home we went with a skip in our steps. We got a piano!

So, now how do we get it home? Oh, I know, it's not a big piano and it's an upright, lets call Allison's Husband and have him come to help hoist the piano into the truck, drive it home, and then hoist it out of the truck and up into the house. Ha ha ha ha! See how funny I am? Apparently, pianos, even small ones, are HEAVY.

So, now how do we get it home? A few calls to actual piano movers revealed a horrible fact of life. Moving pianos is EXPENSIVE! They actually wanted more money to move the piano than we paid for it. Oh dear. And none of them were available that day. Oh dear. One mover was kind and gave us a suggestion, which husband jumped on. We rented a furniture dolly from a move-it-yourself company. And with lots of stares and laughs and finger pointing (and I still check YouTube just to see if someone recorded it) Husband and two strong young men helping at the estate sale, pushed the piano up the hill, down the hill, around the corner, and down the street to the garage.

So, now how do we get it into the house? The poor piano had to live in the garage for a night while we pondered the physics of getting the piano up the front steps into the house. We asked Single Guy Neighbor to help and called upon Allison's Husband, again, to help. Single Guy Neighbor actually had a ramp (who knew!), Husband had plywood to put over the ramp (because doesn't everyone have a sheet of plywood in the garage?) And Allison's Husband had youth and vitality and willingness to help friends. And the three of these men were able to push the piano down the sidewalk and up the ramp-covered stairs and into the house.

We still need to get it tuned, but Little Man has enjoyed having it and has had a great time "playing the piano" especially while I'm on business calls or trying to get editing done. It is better than being hit in the head with a nerf bat though. Meanwhile, I try to pick out a song here and there and recall endless music lessons my mother tried to give me. I still break out in a cold sweat because the only part of the music gene I inherited is the wish I could make music and the ability to recognize music is playing. Other than that..... My wish is that Little Man will take to it and be able to make music.

It takes Two

Back in September I wrote a blog about a few pet peeves I have. I left one out, but today I shall rant on! Actually, not rant, just say out loud the thing that bothers me right now (and for the past few years) and what I have done and what I will do about it going forward. So, what has gotten me all worked up? *Deep inhale* Narrow parking spaces.

I realize that businesses, in an effort to get more people into their establishments, try to squeeze as many parking spaces as possible into their parking lots. Here's the thing: if people cannot open their car doors enough to get out of their cars, they cannot go into your business. Perhaps the smaller spaces are a subliminal way they (whoever they are) are trying to get people to buy smaller cars, be smaller people, or tote less stuff. I don't know.

No, I do not drive a Smart Car, or a Fiat, or a Mini Cooper. I drive a truck. A BIG truck. A W-I-D-E truck. The vehicle occupies the ENTIRE space with the doors closed. I like to exit the truck when I've arrived at my destination and that requires opening the door. Yes, I like to open the door all the way so I can get out in comfort. I do not like to shimmy and wiggle out of the vehicle afraid my door may tap the neighboring car. And when I have to remove Little Man from his seat, I need to open the door all the way. Even more so when I'm wrestling him into his seat.

I understand that the size of my vehicle and my comfort are not the concern of other people. In an effort to not make my issues the problem of others, I park waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay out in the very back of the parking lots. Rain and shine. Still, someone will eventually park next to me and I will not be able to put Little Man into the car or get myself in without tapping the neighbor. God forbid a wind come up and grab the carefully balanced door and slam it into the next car. Best laid plans....

So, what to do? Going forward I have vowed to be "that person." I will continue to park in the nether regions but from now on I will park directly over the dividing line thus occupying two spaces so I may fling open my doors wide with abandon! No worries, no neighbors. I suggest that others take this pledge to be two-spacers until they (whoever they are) make parking spaces wider and more accommodating to those of us with trucks, Suburbans, Escalades, Expeditions or other comfortable family car. Let's ALL be two-spacers!