The trucks rolled in and the men from the Freed Spirits Motorcycle Club piled out: Bam-Bam (aka my son Dave), Sandman, Stick, Hambone, Bird, Pinto, Hang-Around Jason, and Ashleigh (Stick's young daughter). Those guys give great hugs; no handshakes for them! Clay drove up just a bit later and the crew was complete. Comments were made about the farm being so far out in the hinterlands that they'd need a passport to get back into Sacramento, and then they got to work like a swarm of ants. Bam-Bam was the head honcho for the team and had them running like a well-oiled machine. Before lunch the biggest and most obvious trash had been loaded in the trucks and a burn pile fired up. When not working, the guys were downstairs going through the Boys-and-Their-Toys Store, finding and buying treasures and bemoaning lack of room at home for tools they drooled over but couldn't take. The day was cold but mostly sunny, so the hot lunch went over well. In the afternoon, I went out to help sort stuff in the barn. Stored papers that hadn't been shredded by mice went out to be burned, scrap metal (like a propeller - what the heck did we need with a propeller?!) was set aside for the ironmonger, and shelves were emptied. Wahoo! A lot of the guys had left earlier, but those remaining and I stood by the burn pile and talked while it hailed. And hailed. Bessie Anne, who was in her glory with all the men around and wanted to be with them, looked so pitiful with ice piling up on her head that we headed back to the house. More talk and lots of laughing. The house seemed so empty when they left.
Dave has always referred to the Freed Spirits club members as "brothers." I can understand why. As I thanked the guys for their help, each of them told me, "That's what we do for family, and you're family." Clay (my fifth son) and Pinto (Dave's housemate) assured me they'd be back for Thanksgiving. Another day to look forward to. I wish Deb and Craig had been here, too; they were missed.
Bessie Anne's swimming pool is frozen solid this morning, and there is heavy, heavy frost on the ground. Twenty-six degrees will do that. My heart is warm.