Sorry, no photos tonight and not much posting lately. We’ve moved into our house in Haarlem and tomorrow we sign over the old house in Amsterdam. We’ve been working really hard, every day, on this move. DB has been doing most of the work in the house and I pick up my share on the days I have taken off from work plus the weekends.
The living room still has boxes in it, clothes are half unpacked but in all the wrong drawers, the attic is full of boxes still and the office is a tumble of tables and chairs waiting to be sorted out. The guest room is completely empty because today the floor was cleaned and oiled.
The big news is that today the washer and dryer were delivered. Now, THAT is a story. I wish I had photos of these two thin young men hauling the heaviest thing in the house up 2 flights of stairs.
Now, I must first explain that a normal sized washer and dryer in the US are considered gigantic here. I wanted a “normal” sized washer and dryer damn it. I’m tired of washing 3 pairs of jeans at a time and that’s a full load. I’m tired of my jeans coming out in a tightly wadded mess. I want as many options in the wash cycles as I have types of fabric in my clothes. So, we bought the biggest damn things we could find in this entire country.
When we picked them out we asked “can these be carried up 2 lights of stairs?”. The young salesman ran off to find out and came back and said “yes!”. Little did he know.
The delivery truck showed up at 2pm or so. Two guys who didn’t look big or strong enough to carry our moving boxes unpacked the dryer and humped it up the stairs, sweating and swearing. Then they started to complain about the washer and say that it just wasn’t going to be possible to carry it up. If they couldn’t carry it up, they would just leave it on the bottom floor. I said “what are going to do with a washing machine down HERE??” We went back and forth, he called his boss, I stood with my arms folded, and DB and his dad were quickly trying to remove the rail along the stairway to give them more room to get the thing upstairs. We finally agreed that we’d take off the railing completely and the guys would come back after their last delivery to try to carry the thing upstairs. Then he asked me to pay. I said “When you have it upstairs then I’ll pay.” Oh, that was NOT going to happen. If didn’t pay then, they would take everything away and not come back. Then the guy said, quietly, that if we get the railing off they will make sure it gets upstairs.
So, at around 6.30pm they showed up again and with help from DB they got the thing upstairs. They installed it. They made sure it was all working. DB gave them a tip for all their hard work. And I’m so relieved and happy. I feel like a ’50’s woman happy with her “white goods”.
And we’re never ever moving again!