Last night Mr. V arrived home in the big Oskar Blues truck with taps for pouring beer on the sides.
Mr. Vesuvius loaded all our furniture into it himself.
The couch, the fridge, the big kitchen table. The queen size mattress and box springs.
I mainly fretted and felt completely and utterly overwhelmed.
We left Ft Collins about 8:30 pm and unloaded the truck in the dark. Our new neighbors must think we're pretty weird, moving in in the middle of the night.
Maybe they think we are albinos or in the witness protection program or circus people.
There is a bakery across the street.
I drove the girls back to Ft Collins in a terrific lightning storm. I felt vulnerable, us moving alone. What if something needed to be lifted and I wasn't strong enough to help lift it? What if couch legs needed to be removed or doors needed being taken off the hinges?? Where was Mr. Aaron Galuzzi, moving helper extraordinaire??
(I know them G-lu's would have helped us if we'd asked them. Even the missus in her delicate state would have offered to unpack a box. But we didn't ask them.)
In Longmont Mr. V was up til 3 am painting the walls "Rejuvenate" and "Seafoam" and "Italian Fantasy".
I am hoping it doesn't look as bad as it sounds.
I wanted it to look just like Nie's but I think I missed the mark a bit.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Vesuvius turned on every light in the house, put on Firefly, and fell asleep to the sounds of her friends.
They were having shoot-outs and running from the gorram alliance.
Do not judging me for finding that comforting.
Hopefully in two days Vesuvius will be coming to you straight from the Little Shack in Longmont.
Until then, darlings.
--Over and out--