Leaving work last Friday afternoon, as I gathered empty tupperware containers and several days worth of dirty running clothes, I realized that I was absolutely, 100% looking forward to the weekend.
And in the words of Loverboy, "I was workin' for it."*
*I can’t claim the reference. I first heard it several years ago from “Big Jim” Fitzgerald, one-time editor of Bike Magazine and quite possibly the funniest guy I ever worked with. Not incidentally, Big Jim is also the man who sent Megan and me one of my favorite email attachments ever: the inspirational poster featuring an old man and a young boy with the caption, “It’s time to hug Grandpa!”
I have journeyed to the ends of the internet – trying every search word combination imaginable – and still, still I cannot find a reproduction of that absolutely delightful fauxster. Honestly – it’s awesome. Look for it.
Anyway, back to the weekend. Wonderful. Friday night, Brad and I joined 30 or so others for a birthday celebration for our dear friend, Lizzie. She rented a yoga studio and treated us all to a private lesson. Even Brad – whose name is not Gumby Dammit! – had fun. After, Brad and I shared chicken curry at East West Connection and headed home for an early bedtime.
We skied the Y Couloir (not the whole thing – I felt too exposed up high) on Saturday. Great skiing, and I was pleased that it felt way better than the last time I skied it, a few years ago, the day of Andrew and Polly’s wedding, the very day I decided to move to Utah.
After skiing, Brad and I went home to prepare for the Great-Hot-tub-Move-of-2008, aka Utahans Gone Redneck.
We had a big 10-12 person hot tub in our backyard; it came with the house. After using it exactly once in nearly 3 years, we decided to send it on its way. What’s that old saying? If you love a hot tub, set it free. If it was meant to be, it will provide you with increased patio space and room for more flower beds.
Our friends, Derek and Colleen, offered to take the tub off our hands. The only problem, of course, was, well, have you ever tried to move a 10-12 person hot tub? I’m just saying, those things are heavy. And unwieldy. And downright dangerous when they’re tipped on their sides, teetering this way and that.
We’d amassed a group of 5 strong men for the task, but that wasn’t nearly enough. One or two attempts to budge the behemoth yielded a progression of only a few inches. “When’s sunset again?” Rob asked, vocalizing what everyone was thinking. It was gonna be a long night.
Even after gathering several more the buffest folks we know, we struggled to heave the thing across the backyard, up a little hill, into the driveway and onto the trailer.
And by “we,” I mean, of course, “they.” I tried my damnedest to stay out of the fray. In fact, when the move began, I was in the middle of making two lasagnas – one veggie, one meaty – for Sunday night’s potluck. I tried as hard as I could to appear busy and focused on my cooking, but to no avail.
“KATIE! Get out here!”
So I flitted around, mostly just getting in the way and making jokes at inappropriate times. Like when they were lifting the thing in the air, all energies directed toward that end, nothing left over for laughter.
Highlights from the spine-wrenching event include: hitching the thing to a truck in attempts to drag it slowly, only to have it fly so fast across the yard the men couldn’t keep up with it; and watching the gents push the tub up the small hill in our backyard while Ed (whose very sore back earned him the post of job foreman) and I shouted helpful direction tips. “OH MY GOD, YOU’RE GONNA HIT THE FENCE!”
But it’s over now. The hot tub is safely bubbling away at its new home and, thankfully, no one got hurt in the moving process. I love our new patio space and am enjoying imagining the possibilities for it: a CrossFit style pull-up/dip/muscle-up station? A picnic table? Lawn furniture?
We’ll see what summer brings. I’m already thinking about a flower garden border, though. And some tomatoes. And peppers. And herbs.