The big moving truck showed up first thing yesterday morning.  They have been packing the last couple of days and yesterday they moved all of our belongings into this "big guy." 

I secretly love big trucks.  It must come from my childhood with a Dad who owned a "Tree Service".  He had large dump trucks, diggers, cherry pickers and the like.  I loved going up to his "yard" (as we called it) while he sharpened his chain saws.  I would run around and climb into the back of the dump trucks, into the cherry picker buckets and "the scoop" of the diggers.  If I was lucky, Dad would start the "cherry picker" and he would raise it as high as it could go.  

I also loved the cabs of the big dump trucks.  I loved the smell of oil and wood chips.  Dad always had a pack of rolaids wedged between the front window and dashboard, sometimes I would sneak one.  It tasted terrible and chaulky but if my Dad could eat them than so could I.   

As this "big guy" pulled away last night with the rest of our belongings, I was sad to see it leave but even more sad that I didn't have Max with me as an excuse to check out the cab of this beauty.