I will be adding stories & reflections as time marches on. Take a gander today!
|The Day Before I Moved In...
New Year's Eve 2018 — the four year anniversary of my mother's death — I chose to move into my dilapidated house.
In "~ Blog for Bard's June 3 ~" , I told you how I happen to purchase this house. In "~ Blog for Bard's June 4 ~" , I shared how I arrived at the decision to move into the house on the anniversary of my mother's death. Today, I am going to tell you about my moving day adventure.
Well, if memory serves me right, the adventure started the day before when I got my camper totally stuck in the mud in my front yard.
I had the boxes containing the frame of the futon I had bought, the futon mattress, a cheap area rug, the box containing my new kerosene heater and the box containing my new Tailgater Generator, all stuffed in my tiny motorhome—waiting for move-in-day. (There was barely room left for me.)
The boxes were all heavy (at least for me) and the mattress was both heavy and cumbersome. My plan was to get my camper as close to the front door as possible so I would not have to carry all this stuff very far.
I could not back in where my driveway was. That area has been dug up by the water company when they moved the water meter. It was no longer a packed down driveway but rather a much looser dirt area that got very mushy when it rained and it has been raining off and on for days.
So my decision was to enter through my neighbor's driveway and back across that side of my front yard up to the front door. Little did I know what awaited me.
I buried the back end of the vehicle in the mud in 2.5 seconds!
Unbeknownst to me, there is a wide area between the two properties where water collects when it rains. The area I backed over was softer than the newly dug up dirt in my driveway. I never sunk any vehicle so quickly or so deeply into the mud in my life. The frame was sitting on the ground!
Well, I do have roadside assistance so I could have called them to send a tow truck but the gal across the street had another idea.
"I can pull you out." she declared calling her pick-up by name as people in this county town are wont to do.
Well, her truck may have been powerful, but her "two-strap" was the flimsiest "tow-strap" I had ever seen. She waved away my concerns and hooked it up to something under the front end of my campervan.
I was right. The minute she tried to pull me out, snap!
Then another neighbor came to the rescue. He brought the heaviest tow-strap I had ever seen.
The neighbor gal crawled under and hooked it up. That strap held when her truck revved up.
But the truck abruptly stopped moving forward. She gunned it but her tired just spun on the pavement. The smell of rubber filled the air.
I assured her it was okay. I would call a tow truck. She would have no part of it. She was determined with a capitol D.
I thought she would tear up her truck but eventually the camper came out of the mud and when it got unstuck, for a moment her truck and my camper careened down the street.
We did leave a groove in the ground between my yard and the neighbor's driveway that was above two foot deep and five foot long. My new neighbor was not happy.
Tune in tomorrow for what happened next!
This is my sixth entry for "The Bard's Hall Contest" June Blogging Challenge.
~ ~ ~ JESUS is LORD! ~ ~ ~