By now you all know we built a house in Hardeeville, SC, specifically Jimmy Buffet’s brainchild Latitude Maragaritaville. I am starting to lose track of the timelines but we had looked at Hilton Head Island, which is about half an hour from Savannah or, during the summer and holidays, ten and a half hours away. Our biggest concern about buying a home there was meeting people. So we jumped in with both feet and decided to move to a 55+ community. Just today as we hung out in the pool on our floatee things for about two hours I was saying “I never thought I’d live in a place like this but it’s not so bad”! However that is for another time.

Today I am wanting to tell the tale of the move in. We had our act together from the get-go. We filled a 16’ POD with professional help (although I packed every.single.thing myself). We got rid of a lot of stuff but still. We ended up filling a second 8’ POD with our patio furniture (Al had gotten it all from Salvation Army ten years earlier for $120 and it was quality, so yeah). Anything else we could fit in we did, and at the last minute Al – who had been living in the house until it sold in April – threw in the guest room mattress. This little tidbit will be quite fortuitous.

Everything was going smoothly. The PODS were sent to Savannah, Georgia and waited for the green light to deliver them to the house. We closed on the Margaritaville house in April 29. PODS to be delivered that day. The 8’ was delivered first and the 16’ was due later that same day. Our building supervisor put a no parking sign in front of the house. We were really the first house to be finished in our “phase” of Mville so there was nothing but construction around us. Normally, a POD can’t be put on the street there but because of the circumstances our guy said not a problem.

Somewhere it all got lost in translation and the next thing we know we have a text from PODS saying they will pick up the first one and deliver the second three days later.

I’m going to spare my typing fingers and just do this recap:

Mary has nervous breakdown.

Calls PODS and customer service cannot help, says it’s scheduled through the warehouse.

Guys who are scheduled to unload both PODS unload the one but because we are talking end of the month they are booked and can’t come back.They feel terrible about it.

Mary has nervous breakdown.

Mary calls some company that will unload and they say they can have someone there by 4 the next day.

Al and Mary run up to Savannah and the guy at the PODS warehouse says “you’ve come to the right place” and with the click of the computer arranges for the exchange to happen the next day. I am not without a little bit of guilt thinking someone else just got bumped for us, but hey, squeaky wheel, etc.

Next day the PODS are exchanged. Guys to unload never show up.

Mary has nervous breakdown.

Customer service assures Mary that they will find someone for the next day. I’m realizing that I have actually called a broker who is trying to find people to do the job. I tell them I just want my money back and they agree. That night I honestly felt like I was going to have a heart attack if I didn’t calm down. It wasn’t the inconvenience, really, it was trying to talk to customer service at PODS and the broker. They were all so nice and sweet and patient. I was being as nice as I could be and knowing that having a shit fit with them would be useless. Best save my shit fits for Al.

In the meantime we start unloading boxes from the second POD. This POD was the 16 footer with most of our stuff, including my piano. But at least we had dishes to eat off of now and we did at least have the patio furniture and that mattress that Al threw in at the last minute from the 8 footer.

That night I looked at Al and said, honey, let’s just do this fucking thing ourselves. We can go to Home Depot and rent dollies and ramps and that’s exactly what we did. Recliners? Done. Huge bookcase? Done. Endless boxes (why do I need ANY of this crap.). Bed frame? Done. 6’ glass table with glass pedestal? Done. Piano?

Piano. I went on You Tube to get some tips. It’s an upright and I’ve moved it around the house but this was a different animal.

Now then. If you ever need to move a piano from a POD over a threshold into the house, not to worry.

Buy two basketballs from Walmart,

Deflate basketballs.

Put one basketball under each end of piano.

Reinflate basketballs.

Slide dolly under piano (note to self, next time? Bigger dolly).

Try not to injure your 70 year old selves getting it out of POD and into house. This was the hardest part because we only had two ramps and the wheels had to be perfectly centered. There was a moment we thought all was lost.

Take dolly out from under piano. Deflate and remove basketballs.

Go to Bar and Chill and have the best cod sandwich and margarita you’ve ever tasted.

I told my kids I want this story told at my funeral. My mom moved a piano.

I am never moving again.