Hi Everyone! Guest Craft Hope blogger and Project 8 coordinator, Kimberly Davion, here. I thought I would share some of my stories and experiences with you all involving this project. It has been lots of fun and I have met so many very interesting people. One of the most interesting people I have met so far, was a certain delivery driver whom I will never forget. It will be one of those humourous stories that I will carry with me for as long as I can remember. How an ordinary day turned into an amazing donation, startled a certain gal and made her giggle at the entire situation later. So much so, that I wanted to share my blog post with you all, here, on Craft Hope. Enjoy.

The Story: So as I was trying my best to “summer” clean the house, around the several hundred or so, 8 foot stacks of Project 8 boxes in each room of the house, I just happened to pass the window only to look out to see a very very large semi-truck slamming on his air brakes down the middle of our very narrow city neighborhood street.  “Oh no.” I think in my mind. Yes, surely I have been greatly blessed in this amazing mission for Craft Hope’s Project 8 that I have coordinated. And saying “oh no” is not to say that I don’t want donations in the least for this tragic disaster, But… I am running out of room in my home. And here, suddenly, a very very large semi, is now stopping in front of my home. (did I mention it was very, very, large?) All I could think was “oh no!” How many? And most importantly, how heavy?!!!

As I am now spying from a tiny corner of the window, hunkered down in a worried panic of what massive quantities were about to be laden down upon my front porch, the doorbell rings. It’s the semi-truck driver. Oh no.

So I answer the door. A disheveled mess, no less – a rats nest of bed hair, no make-up, a flimsy tank top, McHammer Capri workout sweat pants, stubbly legs, and grungy white Adidas workout shoes… really not the kind of look you would prefer to answer the door in…. the doorbell rings again. I pray. Lord, please let not this man judge me upon my appearance. I answer the door. The semi driver is just what you would expect in the least. No taller than I am (and I am all of 5′even), a Sopranos gangster ego and dialect, fat stubby, ash laden nub of a cigar, hairy chest, gold chains, basically a Devito clone. He looks at me and says, eh, I gotsa delivery for yous. Wheres’yas want it? Donno if I’ms gonnas gets my forklift up dat incline in da yard…. I’m suddenly stunned….WAIT! WHAT? WHAT DID YOU SAY?!!!

Forklift!!!??

He says “Yeahs, da forklift. Its a 220lb.palette of boxes.” So wheres ya wants em?”

Wait… Forklift?!! Wait… 220lbs!!!

He says “Yeas. Yous gots a hearin’ problem? Yous keeps a repeatin’ everything I says.”

And he just stares at me. Cigar ash, slowly falls down into graying gnarled chest hair.

So I just stand there, trying to absorb the information just giving to me in Soprano dialect.

Okay Kim. Process. Thoughts. Forklift. Palette. 220lbs. OMGOSH!!!!

Where is this going to go!?! How ever in the world am I going to deliver this to IMMS?!!

So I put on the best, petite southern gal in distress bit in my arsenal of syrupy sweet skills. I say “Well, its just little ole me, I’m not sure how I’m going to handle this? Can the package be broken down into smaller bits? Something that I can handle? Can you help me?!  *Bats eyelashes* (hey, at this point, its all I’ve got)

He suddenly realizes the circumstances and says to me “uh, yeas sure. I tinks so… yous can come looks in the back of ma truck at it. We can figures somethins out for ya.”

Looking into the back of the truck, I feel a little light headed. There were stacks upon stacks of boxes. And several VERY LARGE Palettes inside. Some saying 300-500lbs. Trying to retain composure. I remember, my delivery is just a mere 220lbs. clearly all these others were not for me. So I ask Mr. Soprano, where is my palette? He shuffles about, squeezing his sweaty robust stomach around boxes and forklift.

I’m standing outside of the back of the truck, a hot mess, with my large Granny Anonymous sunglasses on, looking around, noticing I have the entire blocks worth of retirees at full alert. Lord, please don’t let the neighbors call the Neighborhood Association for violation of receiving a non-residential delivery. oh my!

So Mr. Soprano finds my palette and slaps it. Making me anxiously jump to attention. “Heres it is” he says. “yeas, looksa like its a justa wrapped up, lika smaller boxes, Yousa can handles dat, right?” Yes I say. So he begins to unload his forklift with palette. And drives it up into the middle of my driveway, sets it down and proceeds to pack it up to leave. “Wait!” I yell to him. “You can’t just leave it in the middle of my driveway. I need to park cars here!” So he takes a hard drag on his knubby cigar, huffs a bit, and repositions the forklift back under the palette and moves it into a side area of my yard. Thank goodness.

So I thank him again, he says “Goodsa Lucks” and leaves. I just stand there, inspecting the palette. And recalculate the new totals for Project 8. 30,000 just went to 60,000 really quick just now. Then I realize, the neighbors are still staring, and I slowly make my way back inside figuring out what next.

Then reality sets in of what just occurred. There is a 220lb palette in my yard! I slightly hyperventilate. Oh my gosh! I need to text Jade!! I need to get a Uhaul, some equipment to move this palette! I need to do this now! I need to go start loading up the truck after work on Saturday.. I need to go make deliveries on Sunday. I need to do this now!!! Eeeee!!! wow!  I sent Jade a frantic text. I hope I did not freak her out, which I’m sure I may. I was having a “Oh My Gosh, Is This For Real!” moment.

I got in touch with Jade, (she is such a peach), since she was in the middle of vaca at the House of Mouse, donations were sent ASAP for transportation provisions, I immediately had reservations made, IMMS was called and now I am settled and relaxed. All is taken care of, Mr. Davion will pick up the large Uhaul Truck on Saturday. We will spend the night packing the truck, and will head out to IMMS on Sunday.

I am still in awe and very much humbled over the donations and effort of so many. I still can’t believe it. I feel like I am living in some full-time Project dream, but no, its a reality. And I am so glad I am a part of this. I am so glad to have stepped up to have coordinated and participated. And this will be something I will remember for the rest of my life. And possibly grow onto other missions after this. I am blessed.