One of our old neighbors and current gardening client of Teri's is remodeling their kitchen, and they offered us their old refrigerator (for free). Given that this unit is larger and better-made than the Maytag lemon we've been stoically enduring for more than twelve years, Teri of course said yes.
So the plan (Stage One) was this: rent a U-Haul pickup and heavy-duty dolly, hire Teri's sometime gardening helper Louis to provide some young-person muscle, drive to Sandy's house in Piedmont, haul the new unit out of their garage, pull it up onto the truck via a ramp made of two thick planks of wood, drive it back to our place, get it off the truck, get it up our front steps, and park it in our dining room until Stage Two.
After smashing and gouging several fingers and Louis spraining his back in the process of just getting it out of the garage and into upright position, I contemplated the various ways this could play out, going forward. Nearly all of them involved additional injuries and possible destruction of the appliance.
I then made what I believe was a judicious call - I said, this is a very good point at which to stop our do-it-yourself effort and hire a professional. I mean, really. Holy Shit.
So we parked the now-upright unit - which I came to finally see was as big as Frankenstein on steroids - in an alcove off their driveway, and now the hunt is on for an actual trained, equipped mover.
Again, I feel like a wise, wise man. A wise man who is now more than $100 bucks in the hole for this "free" appliance, and who will likely be spending a hundred or two more before all's said and done. But, again, I mean, really. Holy Shit.
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