(names have been changed for protection)
It all started with a loom I found on an online fiber equipment page. We were on vacation last weekend when my mother and I trolled the 'net looking for looms for our studio. The ad looked good. We made contact. We negotiated a price. We picked a travel date. We drove to New York.
The seller indicated we'd need several people to move the loom. "It is heavy. Bring people who can haul," She wrote in her email. So I did. My father drove, and my sister tagged along. Or rather, I was the one tagging along, since I know what looms look like. I'm such a girl when it comes to hauling and lifting. I'm a weakling of the highest order. My sister, Sara, on the other hand is strong as an ox. Maybe that's not flattering for a female, but I have always been in awe of her superior strength. I knew we were ok.
We drove the three plus hours to New York, traveling through the town of Sleepy Hollow where there was a cool statue of the Headless Horseman. Along the way, my father and sister started joking around. "I am Hans," he said. "Und I am Franz," Sara replied. "Und we are hear to haul a loom." "Hey you. Girly-man...can't you lift that?" "Yah, Vee need to pahmp you ahp, you girly-man." They amused themselves in this manner for a good ten to fifteen minutes, laughing at themselves.
Arriving at the seller's house, she greeted us in the drive with her husband by her side. He might have passed for a shorter, weaker, thinner, Tony Shaloub. She showed us the loom on the second floor, and Dad and Sara began contemplating the best way to carry it down the stairs and out the door to the trailer.
"I dont want to sound sexist," Tony said. "But I guess I'll have to be the other man." Dad picked up on end, and Tony tried to grab the other. He grunted, and groaned and maybe, just maybe got the loom off the ground half a millimeter. Sara gently pushed him aside, hauled the loom up over her head to get it above the barrier at the top of the steps in one fell swoop. She bore the brunt of the weight walking backwards down the stairs, and with Dad's help, carted the loom out through the garage and proceeded to help load it up.
"Boy, Sara," Tony said. "You're strong. Really strong." She gave him a look like, uh, yeah. I know. You Girly-mahn.
We piled back into Dad's Explorer, waved good-bye, and broke out into laughter.
"I dont want to sound Sexist..." Sara said.