May 30, 2013

It Doesn't Hurt To Ask

I painted my laundry room this week. It's not much of a laundry room, just barely big enough for my washer and dryer to fit inside and one person at a time to pass so doing so required that the washer and dryer be temporarily moved to my back porch-- a job I had to get 2 of my brothers to do because my 2 hernias and the damaged disc in my back will no longer allow me the luxury of doing my own heavy lifting.

I would have moved them to another room but the house really isn't so big that the machines wouldn't really be in the way. Not like they're not in the way on the back porch but one only has so many options.

All week now I have been besieged by the drivers of every pick-up truck that passes knocking on my door asking if they can have my washer and dryer to haul away for scrap metal. And believe me, lots of folks 'round these parts drive pick-up trucks.  It strikes me as strange that seeing my pick-up parked outside, always filled with some kind of junk and me living less than a mile from the recycling center they would bother to ask at all.

Some, after being told I'm painting the laundry, even come back and ask again. What's that all about?  I can't wait for my brothers to come back and reinstall the machines.

You reckon if it was raining and I were riding my motorcycle they would offer me a lift in their pick-up trucks? You know, 'cause it doesn't hurt to ask.