Choices

So, it's July 6 and I am going to try and reserve a moving truck for the 26th. I'm nailing this down to 20 days left.

The bunk beds are not going. They have been sold. These beds held my child for many years. His friends lived here every weekend he was in high school. My grandchildren claimed them on their frequent visits and the TV was visible from both bunks. It made me sad to see them go.

They also provided a bed for many bands that passed through our town. Some famous ones like A Day to Remember and UnderOath. Some not so famous, Jaxin of Of Mice and Men, Gwen Stacy, Asking Alexandrea. Many I can't remember their names. My bed and breakfast dream became reality when I fixed up the family room into the band dorm. Bunk beds, pull out beds and carpeted floors let boys stretch out to sleep instead of in their vans.

This is where I gave bands beds and breakfasts for free. Breakfast like their mom would give them. Eggs, any way they ordered them up. Bacon and sausage. Toast, muffins, bagels, cereal in giant bowls. Orange juice, coffee, milk, sweet tea and even soda pop. I loved seeing their astonished faces when they woke up to a mom cooking for them. All 4, 6, 8 or 10 of them.

The showers all going at once and boys with wet hair and towels wrapped around their middle, scooting past the door. Waiting for their turn to sit at the table in the kitchen.

They would arrive after their show at midnight or later after James called and asked if we could provide arrangements around 11:00 PM. Bill would runt to the store and we would have snacks ready for them. I would quick pick up. They arrived sheepish and apologize for the lateness of the hour. We were always fine with it and welcomed them like we hoped our son would be welcome in the early days of touring. They could hang out in the band dorm, in the living room or kitchen or patio. Some lively, some just needing a quiet nights sleep. Some left early in the morning off to the next show in another state. Some hung around till late afternoon if the next show was close by. The era is now over. Our two bedroom bungalow is off the circuit and much to small.

The motorcycle is not going. It has been sold. Happily for me, sadly for Bill. We bought it 15 years ago, he rode it for one summer and it sat in the way in the garage, shed or driveway for the rest of the time. A few years ago we renovated it spending over $500. We licensed it and presented it to him and he still didn't ride. I began to resent it and tried to get him to sell it but no go. So good by Yamaha! I didn't even watch them load her up and drive away!

The purple cow is going with us. It came here from Kentucky when Pap Pap died and my grandchildren wouldn't hear of us leaving it to the new owners. So it will be loaded on to the truck and live in Florida with us. I can just imagine what the neighbors will think. It brings a smile to my face already!

Pap Pap had a purple cow
The children loved it so
When Pap Pap moved, one snowy day,
The cow just had to go.

They wrestled,
they tussled
They sat and they puzzled.
Each man out of ideas.

The cow looked forlorn
Now missing a horn
But she was simply too heavy
To Moooove.

Then along came a Willis
With a truck and a dolly
A hero for all to see.
He loaded her up
Into the truck
And drove her
Out of Kentucky

The Purple Cow
Now has a new home.
Where the children can come
And see her.

It was joyful to hear
The enormous cheer
When she rolled off the truck
In Ohio.

Now children will paint her
Once again next spring
A brilliant shade of purple
A wreath round her neck
A child on her back
And all is well in our circle.


I guess I will be adding another verse to my poem! I published this poem back in January before a move was thought of!

But on to Florida she'll be walkin'
Grunting men will move her
A tropical shirt she'll be rockin'
Retiring now, oh yes sir!


Question: When was your last move?

Comments

soulyluna said…
the purple cow has found her last home! so glad you didn't give up- nothing's ever too heavy to move, you just gotta find will and the right resources. I love your poem, and I love that it keeps growing and changing alongside you.

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