Big Buster

August 13, 2013

The board, Big Buster, is taller than I am, three quarters as wide and one half inch thick. Difficult to slide across the wood floor without a scratch, even tougher to get the heavy up over the back end of the car, and finagle it to the top of the rack. I pause more than a number of times, to gaze longingly at the front doors, sweeping up and down the block, with the hopes that someone would gallantly appear to help. Eventually, I manage to lift the bottom of the ungainly piece of wood up onto my sensitive toes, resting it on deck shoes, now camel with smudges across the top. Wincing with agony, I heave the scrap, gradually catching the edge of the car top carrier and sliding it, inch upon inch, up and over the midsection of the vehicle. Winch the mattress-firming ply down, tying unsailorlike knots in a jumble of rope. Ropes that crisscross every which way is more than a bit embarrassing, but more practical than having the board careen into the vehicle following behind, inevitably impaling the driver.

Taking back roads to Taelor’s new four-plex makes for a less strenuous ride, yet tedious with a loaded car, nonetheless. Fondly considering the Clampetts, I am grateful for not having to wrestle a slew of items on top of the car. An untidy heap of metal clanks around in the back, frame wrestled from its male/female grasp, lugged through the bedroom, dining room, living room, into the sun porch and plunked in the car through the gaping hatch.  

Setting up the bed in a space just twice the size of the mattress is a puzzling endeavor. Moving furniture around to accommodate turning the frame creates far more manpower. Moose, the cat, is in the middle, supervising and meowing her discomfort. The dresser is too large to fit in with the bed and desk so, out it goes. Student housing situations never change much, mishmash of furnishings from each individual’s “real” house crowd the narrow space. A never ending list of items still needed to make this environment a home is plastered to the refrigerator. I personally, keep a notebook in my purse (now that I realize posting it on my iphone is a mistake) for things I do not want to forget to track down at yard sales, Value Village, thrift stores, friend’s giveaway boxes or strewn along the side of the road. It may be road kill to some, treasures to others.