Today I was surrounded by kick ass women… but before I get to that, let me tell you about the trailer.The big plan for today was to hitch a trailer up to my Xterra and go pick up a half a dozen more big pieces of flagstone. I didn’t have much of a plan beyond that because, the way I figured it, I only had about at 15% chance of driving a trailer ten miles around the city and actually surviving. (Whether or not I was to meet my demise in a vehicular accident, or because I gave myself a heart attack, remained to be seen.) I’ll pretty much give anything a try once, especially if it is something that will help get one of my projects done, but I was really (let me emphasize that again) really dreading the whole trailer-hauling thing.
I’m just not a good driver, and I really felt like I could have used a spotter (or chauffer) for this kind of thing. However. I also felt like a big sissy. My mother drove a trailer hooked up to her Mirage across the country forgodsake, you think I could handle a couple of pieces of flagstone a quarter-mile to my house. Plus I really didn’t want to bother anyone before noon on a Saturday.
I’ll spare you the detials of hooking a (really small) trailer up the ShortBus. (It’s not my fault I drive a schoolbus yellow SUV…) Although no less than seven people called my on my drive from picking up the trailer to the stone place, to make sure I hadn’t maimed/killed anyone or died of a panic attack yet. Thanks to everyone who called.
Everthing on that front and getting the trailer with the flagstone to the house worked out fine. (More trailer drama later in the story)…
I get tons of help actually unloading the trailer from E and Mom, who are some of the awesome-ist ladies ever. E spent nine hours here today alternately helping me with the flagstone and working on her awesome table. She kicks serious ass, and I’m taking her out for drinks later to show my appreciation.
I got all but 5 stones of my retaining wall mortared in, and we make some good progress on the flagstone-ing bit. Also got E’s table grouted and all of the base work finished, stained, and polyeurathaned. And I got my front yard raked.
About an hour ago we decide to call it quits, clean up, and meet out later for a drink. The only problem? There is a big-ass piece of flagstone in the trailer still, and the trailer is still attached to my car, and there is no way after 9 hours either of us can lift it. E says “why don’t you just pull out of the driveway, turn around, and we can back the trailer in?” Uh. We found out why that wasn’t anywhere near as easy to do as it was to say. And yes, we knew all about the “turn the opposite way than you normally would when backing up” rule. Let me tell you what a think about that rule.
About fifteen minutes (and it’s pitch black out, by the way) of hearing E going “Turn the wheel to the right, no to the left! Go straight. Just pull into the damn grass.” The two ladies who live acoss the street decided we obviously needed help… so then there were four of us taking alternate turns at the wheel trying to get the damn thing backed into the driveway. Uh.
All I need to say is this. It took an hour.
We did an hundred-and-seventeen point turn to get that sucker backed in, and we still couldn’t get it straight. I’m telling you… it’s a defective trailer.
And I really really owe my neighbors. Everyone I know kicks ass today, and that’s all I have to say about that, except…
It’s time for a margarita!
JUMP TO PART XIV of The Pergola Saga: A Little Oops.