Back at it Saturday morning.
A friend who I work with dropped off his dad's two wheeler. I put my sling on and he did a few two handed things. He's a really nice boy, but the sling helped.
He's done too many of these move outs. If I really need him. he'll be there.
On the front porch is a festival bag, with a note, and a bottle of sparkly. From the condo folks next door. A couple stretching to get ready for a run. I go out and say thanks.
I have my sling on. My arm hurts. They ask, of course, about the arm. What can we do?
I tell them about a huge couch. Only two fit young guys could do this.
The guy raises his hand. The wife says that the boy downstairs is home. He's penciled in.
I won't put a name to this boy. He's twenty five, strait, shy, built as fuck, handsome,
and a very kind young man.
This duo will take out my couch, and a bunch of other furniture. They'll have a bit of a sweat on.
I have a huge row of barrels at the side of the house. Fifteen with wheels, five without.
All full of hoarder crap.
The boys will attack them, and make short work of them.
My neighborhood can be a bit noisy and trash, but it's also THAT.
I'm optimistic.
" once more. -
A beautiful Saturday.
