theBarnstorming

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October 10, 2006

Fool's Errand

Convinced that our encounter with the queen sized mattress would prove the most traumatic aspect of our move from East Coast Storage into the barn, we started getting giddy as we reached the back of the storage container. We were to be out by the end of the month. Shouldn't be a problem, we said to ourselves.

The time came to move the large Ikea bookshelf that has been sitting in our basement. It is tall and awkward, but not too heavy for the two of us to move. We put it on a dolly, wheeled it to the van, and discovered that no tricky angle, no amount of strenuous pushing was going to do the trick. The bookcase would not be traveling in the van and, lacking a big truck, we were fresh out of options.

Until Robbi thought back to her sixth grade roller skating party days and hatched a brilliant scheme. "We're not THAT far outside of town," she said.

Robbi's plan involves the dolly pictured above. This dolly, manufactured by Bob, was designed as a wheeled pedestal for enormous tupperware containers filled with many rolls of pugged clay. The wheels enable Seiko to move the enormous tupperwares out from under the counter when she needs new clay and back in again when she is done. The dolly was not designed for transporting enormous Ikea bookshelves on open roads in the dead of night. It was not designed for Robbi to stand upon, grinning like an insane person.

Keep these facts in mind, as we continue.

After going back to the barn to fetch the aforementioned dolly, we returned to East Coast Storage, at which point Robbi and Iggy thought it appropriate to have a bit of a race from the door to storage unit 15E.

If you felt a shred of suspense in regard to the race's outcome, you've obviously never seen either Robbi or Iggy run. Iggy is very fast. Robbi is very very slow. Plus, Robbi kept messing with the dolly, which was never intended to be involved in a race with a dog.

Back in the storage unit, Robbi shows off our challenge, the Ikea bookshelf. Do you get the sense that she has been watching too much The Price is Right?

You may be asking yourself why is she so cheerful. It is 11:30 at night at this point. Miles of uneven pavement lie between East Coast Storage and the barn, between me and my bed. Any why did the dog come along? It seems that a dog, however lovable, might very well get in the way in the throes of such an enterprise. "Do you think it's really a good idea to bring the dog?" I said, before we left the barn.

"Absolutely," Robbi told me. "It will be great. Fun for all. Rah!"

Did I mention how large and unwieldy, even tippy, the bookcase is? Did I mention that the dolly is not dextrous and nimble as other dollies are, that this is a dolly designed for moving tubs of clay 2 feet at a time and not for long-distance furniture relocation? Did I mention that it was the middle of the night, that the roads and sidewalks were terribly uneven, that Iggy is a spaz, that I am feeling very pessimistic about this entire endeavor?

And so we headed out, bookshelf balanced precariously on the ill-constructed dolly, rocks and gravel underfoot and under wheel, dog running crazily around to the end of her leash, jerking me painfully at the wrist, the dark night upon us like a pall, miles to go, and Robbi still grinning like a crazy person as if she's having a grand time.

Eventualy there were cars.

"This is the end of days," I decided.

You're asking yourself, wouldn't this have been far easier without the dog? Why did they bring the dog? What, are these people crazy, bringing this dog along?

If you weren't thinking that, you should have been. Even Iggy didn't think it was a good idea to come along. See how she sits in protest?

Below is proof that I agreed to participate in this scheme. If it looks like I'm almost smiling, it is a trick of the camera. I'm terribly unhappy. Miserable. Right after this picture was taken, I used an expletive. Robbi's eternal smile? It is a farce. Right after I used my expletive, she used a worse one.

This picture is a somewhat more accurate representation of my general attitude about the bookcase misadventure. See how Iggy, aware that her presence is contributing to my ire, still tries to comfort me? She is an awfully good dog.

Long story short: we kept going and going and going. Every 15 feet or so the bookcase would slide off the dolly, so we'd stop and set it back on again. Eventually we'd come to patches of sidewalk with gaping, unfriendly holes, at which point we'd have to carry the bookcase for a while, go back and get the dolly, set the dolly up on the other side of the obstruction, and then put the bookcase back on the dolly. This drill was also repeated every time we came to a street we had to cross. Once we got back into town, we gave up on the sidewalk altogether and wheeled the bookcase right down the middle of the street. This tack worked much better. My mood improved, if only very slightly.

Eventually we got back home.

Once home we had to carry the bookshelf up the stairs. We probably should have waited for Bob, but we were eager to enjoy the fruits of our long, painful, unpleasant, tiring, nearly marriage-ending journey. Somehow we managed to slide it up the stairs and lift it over the banister. Eventually it was in our room. Only after did we think to reflect on what we had just accomplished.

"That was a little nuts," I suggested.

"I'll admit it," she said.

As we drove back to East Coast Storage (in Bob and Seiko's car) to pick up our car, we speculated on how far we had walked/suffered with the bookcase. The entire ordeal had taken about an hour and 45 minutes. We both came up with a number in our heads and, at the count of three, each revealed our guess.

Amazingly, we both came up with 1.6 miles. On the nose.

We kept a close eye on the trip odometer the entire way there. Amazingly, as we pulled into the parking lot, the numbers read exactly 1.6.

Was this to be taken as some sign from above that our journey, though absurd, had been somehow appropriate/justified/wholesome/right? I kept waiting for a sign that would explain the necessity of bringing the dog along. No sign has yet appeared, though I'm keeping my eyes peeled.

The shot below was taken a few days later. To give you a sense of what role the bookcase is playing in our new home. Other than the wardrobe, in which we hang our nice pants, shirts, dresses, etc, this is our primary "closet."

For the bookcase we are grateful, in spite of it all.

Posted by bogenamp at October 10, 2006 01:39 PM

Comments

Posted by: snikes at October 14, 2006 02:21 PM

Posted by: the hose at October 15, 2006 05:39 PM

Posted by: ming at October 16, 2006 12:55 PM