I helped with two moves yesterday. First was Rob and Sarah, finally on their way to Kentucky for good. They had their Penske box truck backed clear up into the yard and and had already done the majority of the moving by themselves. I happened along at just the right time to help load up the bookcases, mattresses, mini fridge and so forth. All of this was only minimally painful physically--but my heart is just plain broke!
Dang Louisville, anyhow.
Then I helped with Ann's move from her little house she's been in for 23 years to her new humble abode in a nearby apartment complex. As apartment complexes go, it's pretty decent. Clean, new linoleum, views of grass and a few spruce trees.
Scott and I lent her son, Sam, and his wife Christy a hand with moving. It was a fun occasion because Scott and Sam knew and liked each other in high school. I've never seen two guys gossip so easily while hauling vast pieces of furniture. Sam called Scott "the battering ram" and Christy dropped her jaw when Scott strolled out of the house hauling the recliner on his head.
The best thing about moving days is I remember how much Scott is the master of Item One on the Real Man List: Must be able to lift heavy objects.
He's a Real Man.