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fuck-you waiting for somebody
Saturday, April 18 2009
Our friend Deborah has been suffering from kidney stones, which is bad enough under the best of circumstances, but on top of that she would be moving today. She'd be packing up all her stuff from her house in a white trash fringe neighborhood of Kerhonkson and moving to a little house on the west bank of Esopus Creek in Saugerties (very near where the Esopus empties into the Hudson Fjord).
I'd volunteered to help with the move, so late this morning I collected the dogs and drove down to Kerhonkson, arriving at Deborah's house about ten minutes before a convoy of vehicles (including a large-size U-haul) rolled up. In addition to Deborah were a couple of gentlemen whom I'd met last Halloween, including one avid cyclist who has found himself pursued by Eleanor the dog (back when she used to do such things). Today, of course, Eleanor was nothing but her sweet angelic self and, to a lesser degree, so was Sally. Sally always has a fuck-you waiting for somebody, and this time it manifested as a small streak of piss on Juneau's (Deborah's dog's) big fluffy bed.
With three gentlemen and a lady working tirelessly, the packing went fairly quickly. Most of the actual three dimensional Tetris inside the U-haul was done by the cyclist dude, who was wearing a fragrance that smelled enough like a cigar that at one point I looked around to see who might be smoking one.
I joined the hour-long convoy to Saugerties, though the cyclist dude bailed on us, claiming news of a more pressing matter had come via telephone. So it was up to just three of us to unload at the little house in Saugerties. It was a cute little house with its own little sea-level dock on the bank of the Esopus, though the ceilings were low and Jim (the only other guy at this point) kept hitting his head on an especially low doorway. Being somewhat taller than him, I was at an even greater disadvantage. But I kept remembering to duck. And I was never the one walking backwards when there were large things to be carried.
Eventually Gretchen showed up; she'd been at a play or something at Eastern Correctional facility. She'd brought a bunch of snacks, heading off what looked to be a couple of oncoming sugar crashes. At this point I thought I should head back home since I'd told a friend I'd only be gone four hours doing this moving thing.
That friend was Peggy the Malvern Girl, who just happened to be in the Catskills hanging out with friends at a million-dollar house atop one of the nearby peaks. They were taking advantage of a friend-of-a-friend "you can use my house any time" kind of opportunity that is only made available to people who are no longer in their 20s. Initially the plan was for Peggy and friends to come by later this afternoon, but while I'd been moving Deborah, they'd been drinking free wine at a craft market on 28A and now were feeling lazy. They still planned to eat dinner at the Terrapin in Rhinebeck (of all places) but it was looking like Peggy wouldn't be visiting today.
So I went to work stucco'ing the ceiling of the greenhouse with Portland cement so as to make its surface texture better match that of the walls.
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