Friday, August 13, 2010

RASTAFARI


As I sit out in my backyard, wondering if I’ll get a photo of McSpinagain’s sheep, the weather we’re experiencing reminds me of the changing seasons – specifically of fall. It was fall when we moved back here.
We had scheduled a Taos moving company to pick up our stuff - even though we didn't have an actual place for the delivery of our belongings and had to give our destination simply as the city where we planned to live. The movers were supposed to be out at 9 a.m. They finally arrived after dark (but I'll give them this, it was the same day). And even though they had come in advance and seen how much stuff we had they came in a truck the size of a small U-haul. When questioned about this puzzling choice they explained that their big truck was broken.
They loaded up the little truck, and then decided it was getting so late maybe they'd just come back in the morning and move the remaining six rooms of our belongings at that time. I told them they had to move it that night, that the final walk-through was scheduled for 9 a.m. the next day and we still had a 3,000 sq. ft. house to clean. After agreeing half-heartedly they went out to their truck and drove away.
Since we had made motel reservations for that afternoon and since it was already nearing 9 p.m., I called the motel and told them we wouldn't arrive for several more hours but that we were definitely coming. The woman didn’t sound like she especially cared when she replied, "Okay," before hanging up.
Two and a half hours later, as we sat on the floor listening to our stomachs growl (we’d gotten rid of all our food, that morning), we heard a loud engine, looked out the window and saw a big truck all lit up like a Christmas tree. We watched as it pulled up to the house and were happy to see that the movers had come back after all. They'd decided that since it was so late (and whose fault was that?!) that 120 more trips to town in a tiny truck was somewhat inefficient so they got the big truck started and drove out. The only problem was that if they shut off the engine the truck wouldn't start again. So through the noise and exhaust fumes they got all of our things loaded.
Needless to say we were too tired to do any cleaning, during what was left of the night, so we started out for the motel in town after agreeing to get up really early and do the cleaning in the morning. Since we'd gotten rid of our car my oldest son loaned us the old car he’d purchased the day before, to be used as his work car. It was a tiny, beat up, red car with cracked windows. In black, bold letters across the front windshield it said, RASTAFARI. It’s my understanding that Rastafarians are people of a certain religious belief (a belief that was started in Ethiopia or Jamaica), who listen to Bob Marley, and wear their hair in dreadlocks (which is supposed to look like clumps of marijuana - a plant that the Rastafarians like very much). But don't take my word on this, this could be one of the very few times I am wrong about something.
Although the engine of the Rastafari car did a lot of smoking (no pun intended) it did run and in fact got us to our motel which was closed and locked up tighter than Alcatraz (we found out later that the place had a night bell and had we been crawling through the shrubbery we might have spotted it). By this time it was well past midnight and so we spent our last night in the Land of Enchantment driving up and down the main street in the Rastafari car looking for a motel that was still open. I have no idea what time it was when we finally got to bed I just remember that it was very close to the time to get up and start cleaning the house for the walk-through. Good times, eh?
To see some of my spinning (as well as Liam McSpinagain's) go to www.recklessspinner.etsy.com

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