Moving

On June 27, 2019, we moved permanently up to what I affectionately call “The Red House.” I spent nine years writing about the home renovation project and now it’s time for me to write about something else. (You can check out previous posts about The Red House renovation on http://theredhouseproject.eathappy.net/). Hopefully this blog will also capture your attention and be a fun read.

We hired the same movers that we used the last time we moved. Three years prior, three guys showed up, two of whom were from Hungary. I was horrified that the truck they drove had some really ugly graffiti scrawled on it – not even funky graffiti!

This time around, three weeks before we were scheduled to move, I received an early morning phone call from the sales guy. “Could we possibly move the weekend before?” he inquired. I told him “no,” and then asked why? Seems there’s lots and lots of traffic on Thursdays in and out of the city. I reminded him we were not going in or out of the city. We were moving from Long Island to upstate New York and avoiding the city at all costs. I further reminded him I had booked his services 3 months in advance (April to be precise) because they had done a good job in the past and June 27 was the only day I could reasonably move. He said he would talk to his dispatcher and get back to me.

By the time I got into my office, I was seething. Obviously, he had received a more lucrative gig on that particular Thursday than a measly house move with a 4 hour there, 4 hour back commute and he just wanted the bigger sale. I sent him a not-so-kind letter indicating that I knew this was in fact the case and if they were going to cancel on me, I needed to know ASAP so I could hire a different mover.

When all was said and done they didn’t cancel. There was some hemming and hawing about talking to the “dispatcher.” And that was that.

This time one guy showed up around 9:15 a.m. and said the truck was about an hour behind since they had to leave Brooklyn and could only take local streets to get to us. I said I understood and he began taking things apart and carrying them down to the driveway. He was Russian but spoke English with only a slight accent and talked to me about working as a photographer in between moving gigs.

About an hour later, two other guys (one Russian who barely spoke English and the other American) showed up in a rented truck that was bright yellow and surprisingly clean.

We had done quite a good job of packing up plates and glasses, books and pictures and taking them up to the house ourselves so the sole box they had to carry was the TV! We had even managed to put all of our clothes (still on hangers no less) into our luggage! All I can say is I’m really glad we have so many suitcases!

If you’re wondering why we have so many suitcases (eight to be precise), it’s because one year we decided to train travel between London and Paris rather than fly or rent a car. Since I will splurge on restaurants and decent hotels but not on cabs or car service, I knew we would be schlepping luggage up and down subway stairs. I needed a suitcase that could hold enough clothes for a week that I could carry up and down a flight of stairs without asking Lynn for help. Hence, I kept buying suitcases in different sizes until I found the perfect one (hint: it’s the purple one.)

Besides the luggage, we decided to keep only a few pieces of furniture since the Red House was pretty much furnished already (we did keep our living room set and our bedroom furniture.) Therefore, I thought this was surely an easy peasy move. Then there was the piano.

We had debated whether to even take the piano with us but the fact is it was more difficult to try and sell it then to take it with us. Factor in that no one played the piano (except our son Nicholas) and that was usually only on Christmas…it did seem dumb to take it with us.

The movers saved taking the piano down the stairs as their last item. It had made it up the staircase, surely it would make it down, right? Three guys, much grunting and a baseball size hole in one wall when they misjudged the turn and finally the piano was out of the house and onto the truck.

The movers left at 11:30 a.m. We stopped to get gas and a sandwich for the road and followed them about 1/2 an hour later. Of course there was traffic all the way up. 1. It was the start of summer vacation (myself included) and 2. There was no 2. There was just a lot of traffic.

Around 3:45 p.m., we were still on the road with nearly an hour to go when I got a phone call from one of the movers to say they had JUST reached the Thruway in Yonkers and it had taken them nearly 4 hours and 15 minutes just to get to that point! Yikes I thought. He then said Google maps said they would be at our house by 6:10 p.m. but he would call to let me know.

We arrived at the Red House, briefly started putting some stuff away and because I am ALWAYS THINKING ABOUT FOOD, I got back in the car and drove down to the supermarket to pick up some steaks thinking we could always throw a steak on the grill no matter how late it got.

Then we sat and waited.

It’s lovely we have a decent deck with pretty flowers and bamboo to look at when we’re passing the time especially since we obviously didn’t want to start happy hour BEFORE THE MOVERS SHOWED UP. At 6:45 p.m. I called the movers and asked them where they were – 20 minutes I was told.

Let me preface this by saying I showed the movers a picture of the Red House since everyone simply drives by it. There are two reasons for this. 1. We live right next to a community field so you come upon the Red House suddenly. 2. We live halfway up a pretty steep grade so the inclination (for any driver I would think) is to keep on going to make sure your vehicle makes it up the hill.

At 7:10 p.m., we saw the yellow truck whiz on by. Lynn and I stood up from our comfy chairs on the deck and started to wave. We heard the truck stop and slowly back down the slope and finally, pull into the driveway. One of the movers said, “I’m glad you showed me a picture of the Red House!”

An hour later they had unloaded the truck, put all the furniture where we wanted it and were back on the road. They had started before 9 a.m. this morning and were facing easily a 5 or 6 hour drive back to Brooklyn. We tipped the two guys generously (case in point: the lead guy had already advised me when we were still on Long Island what his minimum acceptable tip would be for this long trip so we upped it). I also gave them a couple more bottles of water and a container of bakery brownies I had picked up when I went to get the steaks for dinner. They were appreciative of all the goodies and the tip. We were finally moved and I did not envy their 16 hour day. Did I mention it was the hottest day of the year to date?

As the steaks grilled, we opened a bottle of wine and other than a quiet “cheers,” we were actually speechless.

And that’s the beginning of our “Let’s Go” adventure.

Here we are a week later (July 2019) still smiling!

Photo: Nicholas Parish