the hood in the wood.

I was not to be surprised by anything I saw here, because Rita had taken care to prepare me for it. For example, I had to enter through a special "security" gate, where I was required to hold up a piece of paper with a number on it and look into a camera. I did this, but the gate refused to open. I continued to look at the camera as cars lined up behind me.

When the gentelman in the snazzy pearl-white Escalade began to lean on his horn, I pressed the "talk" button under the camera and asked to be let in. A procession of unintelligible words was heard from a speaker. The gate opened.

Things inside went swimmingly as I related in a previous post. The door was forced shut on the truck, the cars were stuffed with stuff, cellphone numbers were exchanged (again), and it was time to be off.

I grab Nonna’s hand and pull her up into the passenger side of the truck. She looks at me sideways as she buckles her seatbelt. “I feel better when I do this,” she explained. I read this as a measure of her confidence in my driving ability. She crosses herself. “I always bless myself,” she says. “Bless both of us,” I suggest. We rumble off , and the place I have decided to call “The ‘hood in the Wood” fades into a memory behind us.

At the diner Rita talks and I rant and Nonna watches us. Occasionally I catch myself using a bad word and say "excuse me" to Nonna but Rita assures me that a) she's not paying attention and b) she's heard it all before. I can see the second part but the first one I'm not sure about.

It’s a very, very long ride. The big U-Haul won’t go over 45 up the hills, and I’m afraid to go over 60 down the hills, because Nonna seems to be able to read the speedometer from her station far to my right. She doesn’t say anything, but I know that she knows. And I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. Anyway, it’s doubtful the truck will go any faster. The Delaware Water Gap is beautiful and I have a hard time keeping my eyes on the road as we pass through it. But I stay focused for Nonna’s sake.

At long last, we arrive at our first stop, but not before stopping for water, having to detour to avoid a closed road, and being stopped by a bridge just wide enough for a small car, forcing us to backtrack. The boys have installed the couch in the bedroom before I even have my seat belt unbuckled.

Most of Rita’s stuff has been delivered to Nonna’s and by now she’s writing up her price tags for the impending garage sale. We did manage to chip the china cabinet in three or four places while squeezing it into her apartment, and we all felt bad about that. But short of cutting it in half, there was no other way to get it in.

I have to admit, I’m pretty exhausted by the end of the day. I also had to request a clean T-shirt from Rita, which I have yet to return. Rita and Nonna were so delighted with my company that they made me eat at a Chinese restaurant with them (they had already forced me to eat breakfast and lunch). I complied, not wishing to be unfriendly. I even let them pay for the meal.

I hear that Nonna has pleaded with Rita to refrain from the purchase of any more real estate, so this may prove to have been a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Make no mistake about it. Rita is far more clever than she would let you believe. As a trader, she ranks with the best because she obeys the cardinal rule: dump the bad ones. And that’s just what she did at the Hood in the Wood.

That’s if they ever have a closing….