If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Country come to town...

A month or so ago, my mother lined up a crew of us to help her move the remaining furniture out of my Granny's house.  The crew was a family team.

Time was squared away to help out.  However, some folks missed out on the chance.  My husband, Mike, and my sister, Brenda, and my niece, Rebecca, had to work.  Bless their hearts.

My son, Bryan, and his family had already made reservations with some friends to go on vacation to the beach.  Bless their hearts.

Bridgette and Corey were gearing up to go to the hospital for little Luci's birth.  Corey was mowing grass to get ahead and Bridgette was resting every chance she could.  Bless their hearts.

So, I hooked my truck to Mike's trailer and awaited the call from Mom to let me know when the remainder of the crew were headed to Granny's house.  (I don't know who was more excited that I got it all hooked up and ready to roll... Mike, or me!)
Bev's truck to haul your junk.  I don't work cheap!

The day was one of those where all you had to do is step outside your house and immediately you were sweating.  My brow was dripping before I even got out the drive and had the air conditioner cooling the cab of the truck.

When I pulled up to the curb, both Daddy's pickup trucks were parked in the driveway and the back seat of Mom's car was already full.

In no time, Nathan, (niece Rebecca's husband) Adam, (niece Megan's boyfriend) Megan, my brother-in-law, Dwayne, and niece Madalyn were soon hauling out chairs, end tables, coffee tables, and more onto the front lawn.

Now, bear in mind that this is the neighborhood directly across the street from a ritzy golf course.  So, I'm sure folks were peeking out from behind the drapes in the neighborhood all up and down the street.

I'm sure we looked a bit like the Clampets from the Beverly Hillbillies.  I even teased Madalyn that we could strap one of the rocking chairs to the roof of my truck and she could ride there when we left.

Here is how we looked when we rolled out of that ritzy neighborhood:

We had dressers, mattresses and box springs, headboards and footboards wedged in between, end tables stacked atop one another, coffee tables strapped upside down on top of dressers, and yes, that is a baby bed on end in the bed of my truck.

Daddy's pickup trucks were loaded in a similar manner:
Heirlooms swaddled in quilts.

Bungee cords, pieces of rope and twine, and ratcheted straps holding everything in place.

My Granny's house stands empty now with handymen working to get it spruced up and ready to sell.  All of her beautiful belongings have been disbursed to members of the family who cherish the gifts she left us but more-so we cherish the memories we hold of her and the matriarch she was to our family.

The funny thing is that many of those same furniture pieces were hauled from my Granny and Granddaddy's farm down to this ritzy neighborhood exactly the same way they were hauled away from that house.  Some of them even in that same little red Ford truck shown in the photo above.  I'm sure the neighbors were thinking many thoughts about our family and us loading all our belongings into old pickup trucks.  Probably one of those thoughts went something like, "You can take the folks out of the country but you just cannot take the country out of the folks."  Bless their hearts.

As we rolled down the street, I'm sure there were more folks than me who were humming the tune and mumbling the words,

...so we loaded up the truck and moved to Bev-er-ly...

Bless their hearts.