Hoo-boy-howdy, that was quick.....

Well, most of the fait-accompli is accompli. Dorle woke me at seven, as I had requested. Was up between two and four a.m., worrying about everything and nothing.

So I hauled my lily-white buns over to Buchenweg. And things started off wrong. The doors to the bank wouldn't open, so I could pick up some cash in the foyer. They normally automatically open at 6 a.m. when you get close enough to the sensor. Nope, nada. Blast it, stymied again.

The center of town is closed off today, a sport festival of some sort. So the bus routes changed, to my chagrin. Last Sunday, I had to wait thirteen minutes for my connection, and I planned to hit an ATM, run into MacD's, and bring everyone something for breakfast. (And I know two people who will gasp in amazement at that last planned action. Because they KNOW I abhor that place, wouldn't be caught dead in it if I can help it, and it would have been the first time in over twenty-five years. But would have done it... nowhere else to get anything at that hour on a Sunday morning in this 'metropole'. So, saved by the bell, or better said, bus.)

Ya think.... My connection was there and ready to roll. And I was cursing, 'fix-sakrament-hallelujah!' under my breath. That is usually what comes before 'summenabitch!', but I didn't have the luxury of time to get to that.

So I got to Peter's stop about five minutes to eight, and ran to the bank. Yes, RenB, who is so totally into the Churchillian philosophy of 'no sports', ran. I wanted to pay for the truck rental, gas, and the insurance for it for the day. It wouldn't have been all that much. And ran back, because not being punctual isn't an option.

So.... got the money, no breakfast for us, and was punctually there at eight, and there they all were. Dorle, her brother, her son, and Günther, who is doing spectacularly well. First they got a bit snippy, when I said I had to find Guido about the stuff in the kitchen, till they realised it was just about the kitchen block, and our beat-up table. They would have taken the table to his place immediately, but he said, 'oh no, I have to get my cleaning lady in first.'

(And I was thinking, 'hmm' not only paralysed, but not the brightest bulb in the chandelier either.') I got a glimpse of his appartment. This guy has been living in a social services appartment, a nice one, and there is nothing in it! NOTHING. I don't even know if he has a bed, for cripes sake. These appartments have a kitchen area, but they are unequipped. And he doesn't have lights! Just wires hanging out of the ceiling. Thank whomever that woman let me know.

So I had him in the kitchen, and get your mind out of the gutter... badly formulated... And I said, 'OK, here's the deal... I am totally incompetent at dismantling, and remantling a whole friggin kitchen. So YOU have to round up some friends who know how to do that, ok? And it has to be before June 16th. So you call me as soon as you can, and I will come down, open up, and make sure you get what you need there, ok? Here is my telephone number. I am home most of the time, ok? You call me.'

And he looked at me shyly, and asked 'How much will it cost?', nearly afraid, hey. And I said, 'Nothing but what you pay your friends to move it. Don't you read the newspaper? They moved Christmas to May, hey.'

He was pretty bewildered, and am willing to think he was thinking, 'Where is the catch, here?'

Whelp... there isn't one. And I hope whoever he rounds up knows about electrical things, because he's getting all the ceiling lamps. They were installed by Christian and Maria, and they are so ugly, you could just revolt. But the guy needs some lights there, demmit.

And he looked shyly into the living room, and asked if the tee-vee was going as well. Gawd, that killed me inside. And I said, 'I am so sorry, but that belongs to my friends, and they only loaned it to Peter after his died. I have no say.'

ooooo, that was difficult.....

So I went back to the living-bedroom, and Günther asked, 'What about the tee-vee? Does it stay here? We don't want it.' And I said, 'Well, I guess social services will get it. Unless you want to give it to the guy next door... Günther, he's got NOTHING in there.' And he said,

'Let's give it to him, with the little table underneath.'

So 'Guido' got the tee-vee. We went over, rang him out again, and I said, 'Thank you, Günther for helping me do my good deed of the day.' Cracked him up.

(I keep 'Guido' in quotes, because the name on the door seems to be Turkish. Almost no vowels, and sorta unpronounceable for Westerners. So I guess he tells people that to make it easier for them, ya know?)

And somewhere in the middle of all this which was going so fast it made my head spin.... Günther came in, and said, 'Someone outside wants to speak to you.' And I thought, 'Whaaa? I don't know anyone here', thought it was the 'pay it forward' lady. It was a lady with a walker pushing ninety. She asked if the apt. would be available soon. She's a bit deaf to boot. So I had to yell, which makes me uncomfortable...

I told her it would be after June 16th. She told me she had been living in the project for over forty years, but her place was on the fourth floor. (Walker, remember, and no elevators there...) So I yelled, you contact the administration office, and I hope they will give it to you. The bathroom is handicapped equipped, and I think you will like it in there.

All of this happened in ninety minutes, and clearing it out, forty-five minutes. I thought the fire department had come in on the charge, and whoosh.... it was gone.

So... yup. It's all gone. Some goes down to Gamlitz, the rest gets sold, if Dorle's son finds takers, and the deal is 50-50.

He provided a moment of inner hilarty in all this. I was giving away stuff that can't be sold, because he was looking at some stuff because it isn't a full set, turns it over, and said, 'Oh, Villeroy and Boch! Expensive stuff! I was in one of their WC's once. It was wonderful.'

That HAS to be one of the best non-sequiturs I have EVER heard, but I have an odd sense of humour, as we all know. And no, Preciousses, I was afraid to ask.

So ok, that was a lot to take in in forty-five minutes. Dorle and Günter are back to Salzburg today. Life will go on, and it's all sad, but a burden. And on the other hand, feel lighter, free. Doesn't make much sense, does it.

And I am so grateful for the help and kindness shown to me today, I could just cry.

It was, after all, OUR stuff. And Stuff can be a burden sometimes.

Tja... so the last of the Mühlgasse is gone. I guess at least I have the pictures to prove it, as John used to say. And none of the negatives... of the pictures of 'fun'.

That is what life is, I guess....

Peter was his usual cranky self when I told him about the woman who wants his apt. After hearing about the Guido thing. He started yelling at me. 'Gawwd dammit, Ren, do you KNOW how many people on the planet have nothing??? Nothing at all? You can NOT go running around messing in other people's lives like that.' Ooooo, he set me off. 'I didn't give him anything of your stuff, and the kitchen block was Maria M's work, and the table needs to be refurbished, wasn't expensive, and the state would take it anyway because it isn't WORTH anything, so get the fuck off my case, hey. It so happens that someone NEEDS it. And I don't run around playing Saint Ren. But it is also true that if you see someone in need, close by, and they need help, you give them a hand up. So I am NOT trying to save the planet. But I DO what I can to help my neighbors. So give it a fucking rest, hey.'

Yup, am just a charmer when I get crossed. He didn't have to unload all that 'stuff'.

Mensch. What was that below? I Hate it when he brings out my bio-mom's bad genes. And get emotional. And as everyone in a relationship knows, everyone knows what buttons to push.