Monday, March 10, 2008

She Hulk: That's me!

I am one strong broad. There's no way around it. No prose to ease in to declaring this fact. I may not look like the toned, muscular (green) freak of nature to the left; however, I can keep up with the boys when it comes to moving appliances and furniture.

*Doesn't this graphic of She Hulk look like Charlize Theron? Her face, not biceps and forearms.*

My sister and her boys were in need of assistance moving. I had figured I'd do light work such as packing breakables in bubble wrap. Little did I realize beforehand that I was the help. My adult nephew (in law) showed up, too. He's a big, strong guy with many moves under his belt.
While my sister packed and pointed to the things she needed to survive initially, Boy-wonder and I loaded up the moving truck. Heave-ho, bend at the knees, lift with the legs. God certainly gave me these gargantuan thighs for a reason. Even when thin I have girthy thighs. Muscle exists under the layers of cellulite and flubber.
The couches and tables weren't much issue. I declared, at one point, that I'm grateful they don't make furniture like they used to. Dense hardwood's no longer used for the support in most furnishings. Lucky for us! Still, turning a couch mid-air so it'll fit through the doorway is no easy feat... especially when it's an overstuffed one with unforgiving cushions. Without a smashed finger or crushed toe, we persevered.
All major kitchen appliances were purchased new for the newer house. Again, I give praise to God they were wise in doing so. I don't think moving a refrigerator would have been viable with the appliance dolly the moving truck rental place gave us. The straps appeared to have been chewed up by rats.
In the basement lurked our biggest adversary: the washer and dryer. Up steep concrete stairs, into the garage and up the ramp of the truck. Neither my nephew nor myself have ever used an appliance dolly with or without chewed up straps. My lab technician technical expertise was being called upon. The instructions (picture) were of little help. We figured the worst thing that would happen is the straps would snap and send the appliance lurching down the stairs.
Our first attempt to get the dryer strapped on failed. We hadn't wrapped the gnawed on straps around the body properly. It gave way when we tried easing it back. I sat there looking at the instructions while squatting on the steps. I reconfigured, reattached and yanked with all my might. It seemed taut enough. With my nephew at the front of the dolly pulling up the stairs, I was under it pushing. Dryers are lighter than washers; yet, going up those steps proved difficult because of the steep grade. My sister and 15 year old nephew were behind me for support in case I tripped or passed out from grunting.
Once the stairs were cleared it was easy street. We all yelped with our accomplishment. The daunting task of getting the hefty washer up the steps still awaited us.
Now that we knew how to properly use the dolly, it took less prep time. Getting the right angle to get it started up the steps was tricky, but Boy-wonder did it. With grit, gnashing of teeth and guttural groans of power lifters we got that bastard up the stairs. It was then that I amazed myself with strength. In order for him not to kill his back, I had to use these massive thighs and strong shoulders to push from behind. This time, no sister or nephew were behind me for additional support. I swear to you, the deep, grunting, and shouting helps with breathing and lifting.
Getting the truck unloaded was far easier. I eased the appliances off the truck and maneuvered them into the house. The boys were fearful they'd lose control on the ramp and send the washer and dryer sailing into the garage wall. Or, even more dramatic; losing control of the dolly and taking a nose dive off the edge of the ramp. Thankfully, the Maytag beasts remained on the first floor. No stairs to deal with on the unload.
I love my sister. I'd do anythng for her. To me, this is what being a family is about. She's always been there for me at each phase in my life. This move for her a monumental one. She and her boys have been in the same place for many, many years. Heaving appliances up steps is nothing in comparison to what she's given me over these forty-two years. I may have sore muscles this morning, but one muscle is stronger, as a result: our hearts.

1 comment:

  1. What a great sister you are! There are few things in this world I despise more than moving, so I have much empathy for your sore muscles. But just think about the great workout you got!

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