taxing

Let’s just band together in our misery today – filing your due tax forms, yes, that. Stepping up the pace and ambition in one’s move to an unfinished farmhouse – that’s my own burden.

Ed’s waking me before 6 to get going. We’re to load the truck yet again and haul a load over. And we have to go early. Ed needs to finish up electrical work that has to be done before the Sears truck delivers the kitchen appliances.

And there’s another reason to hurry. The clouds are low and gray – the kind that say to me “we’re loaded with rain.. now, where should we dump it all?”

So we hurry. And Ed wants to make sure we load the truck with no room to spare. Yes, I have to agree – the more we take, the cheaper the final move. He weaves legs of tables and chairs together, securing them with laws of physics that leave me convinced that it will all tumble back and crash up and down the streets.

In previous truck trips, we took local roads, but we’re in a hurry and so I give a "go ahead" for the Beltline (highway). We spend a hellish five minutes there. I’m pinned with a carton of pots on my lap, but I twist to look out to the back of the pickup. Oh! Ed, things have shifted! Ed pulls over. Cars whiz by in the morning rush hour. Ed inspects the furniture pyramid, comes back. It’s fine, it’s fine. We’re fine. You’re worrying needlessly. Laws of physics...

Two minutes later I make him pull over again. Nina, it’s solid. It’s not possible for anything to fly off. It’s secure. Still, he stops the truck and checks. All’s there. We continue. The clouds intensify. Rain, we’ve got rain for you!

Finally we pull into the farmette.

We unload.

And I wait. I want to catch a glimpse of the Sears delivery before rushing off for class. I use the time to carry crates of books up from the basement. I wait some more. A call to Sears explains the delay. Their truck broke down. There will be no appliances. Maybe tomorrow.

My construction team is slow today as well. Two of the rooms have much of the construction paraphernalia still in them. I will be moving in (Wednesday) with ready housemates: the sawhorses, saws, boards, paint buckets. Tile cutting machines, mudding tools.

I leave discouraged and immediately I kick myself for being bothered by such nonsense. Ed is amused at my hurry. He takes breaks, moves at his usual pace. I should let some of the lackadaisical attitude rub off on me.


I walk over to the cupcake store on State Street. Here’s a cheerful sight.





Far better to look at cupcakes than to think about the mess back home, the classes I have yet to teach, the two buyers coming for Craigslisted furniture tonight. No need to note that the condo is at once empty and cluttered. That Ed has yet to finish his taxes, even as Andy tells him the inspector is coming tomorrow to check on his electrical work. And there’s snow in the forecast again.

Cupcakes. Think cupcakes with pink frosting. Mmmmm.