My poor Mom. As I am at work playing with children, Mom is supervising construction workers, movers, and appliance deliverers. This story involves the appliances.
On Tuesday, Home Depot arrived at my home to deliver a few new appliances, including a stackable washer and dryer which will go in the basement of my house. When the truck pulled up, my first-floor neighbor came running out of the house.
"You didn't tell me that the appliances were being delivered today!" she exclaimed.
My Mom looked at her.
"I didn't think you'd care," she replied.
"You know the washer/dryer can't be taken down the inside stairs," said my neighbor.
"No, I didn't know that," replied my Mom, wondering how the second-floor neighbor's existing washer/dryer had gotten down there.
"Well, let me get the crowbar," my neighbor said, running back into her house.
You can imagine that my Mom was a tad taken aback. "Let me get the crowbar"? What kind of response was that?
My neighbor came back out and led my Mom and the delivery guys back to her porch. At this point, she moved all of her porch furniture and leaned over a crack in her porch that we had never noticed before. She jammed her crowbar in the crack, and voila! Two big doors opened, like doors to a storm cellar. My Mom's jaw dropped.
Under these doors was a set of wooden steps that led down into a...root cellar? My Mom wasn't sure. The stairs were covered with dirt and debris, and looked like they hadn't been used since the house was built. One of the stairs was missing a board, leaving it about 6 inches wide.
At the bottom of the stairs was a door.
"We can't open the door from the outside," said my neighbor, going back inside and, presumably, down the inside stairs. From the bottom out of the outer stairs there was a creak, a groan, and the entire door fell off, the frame and everything! One of the delivery guys ran down to make sure the door didn't crush my neighbor, and they set it to the side.
The most interesting part of this so far was that no one but my Mom seemed amazed or concerned. Neither my Mom nor the delivery guys even blinked, and my neighbor ran off for docent duty somewhere.
The delivery guys hauled the washer/dryer down there, my Mom begging them to be careful every step of the way (especially the guy going down the stairs backward).
Once the washer/dryer was settled, my Mom and a delivery guy worked to get the door to fit back in the nail holes in the wall that it came from. This proved impossible, so they did their best, but the door is somewhat leaning against the wall. Then they went back upstairs to put the floor doors down, and my Mom moved all of the porch furniture back. Then the delivery guys were on their way.
My Mom was flabbergasted every moment of this adventure. Our only conclusion is that many of the houses in the area must have similar access points, and the delivery guys were used to it.
It may be awhile until we are.
No comments:
Post a Comment