The second stage of moving went a little smoother, though there again were some hitches.

The sequel involved me renting a 22-foot truck in Daphne and driving six hours through intermittent rain, arriving about 10 p.m. to a mostly empty house. There was a bed (I brought linens) and a few boxes.

Well, it was more than a few. When I walked into the bedroom and saw boxes covering more than half the floor and stacked floor to ceiling, I started questioning whether or not I had a big enough truck. But I would tackle that the following morning.

I got up early Saturday morning and took a shower. My wife had thoughtfully packed a towel for me. It was only after I got out that I realized I didn’t have a comb or a brush. Looked like it was going to be a hat-hair kinda day.

A quick trip across town and I had a pair of furniture movers. I stopped at Mickey D’s for a little sustenance on the way back to the house. Unlike the week before, the person behind the counter didn’t offer me a senior coffee with my Sausage McMuffin.

It was still an hour before my helpers were to arrive, so I started breaking down the bed and wrapping furniture pads around a grandfather clock. By the time my son-in-law and the grandsons arrived, my father and I had the big stuff already stowed at the front of the truck.

The more or less orderly transfer of boxes from the bedroom into the truck went quicker than I thought. Of course, we had to keep reminding the grands that the boxes they took off the top in the bedroom, the ones marked ‘Fragile,’ needed to be on top in the truck as well. The son-in-law offered a little advice, “if anything gets broken or damaged, just say the boys (grandsons) packed it and it will be OK.”

Strangely enough, even with amateurs packing, loading, stacking and unloading three trucks over two weekends, very little got mangled. One glass Christmas ball, a piece of pottery and the glass from a 4x6 picture frame were about the only things that got broken.

The sun popped out a little after 9, reminding me that I left my polarized Ray Bans in Daphne. Fortunately, there was a backup pair of mirrored aviators in Tupelo.

The front half of the truck quickly and orderly filled with boxes. Then came the fun part — figuring out how to get all of the remaining odd-shaped items on the truck. Light chairs went on top. Hose reels made good bases for more boxes. In the end, everything (as far as I could tell) that was supposed to go on the truck did just that.

And we were able to close the rollup door on the truck before noon. After eating a light lunch with the folks, I climbed back into the truck and headed south. The ride home was much better on a number of levels. The light, unladen truck bounced on every bump going north. Headed south, the weight of stuff evened out the ride.

The weather on Saturday was sunny and bright, at least until I got to Citronelle. By that point, a few sprinkles weren’t going to bother me. We left the stuff in the truck overnight. The following morning, it took Kathy and I about three hours to unload the truck.

By the time you are reading this, the vast majority of the belongings have been unpacked and placed in their new locations. Some things did not get unpacked and will soon be making their way to consignment shops or charities.

William Moore is the Senior Editor at Gulf Coast Newspapers. He can be reached at wmoore@gulfcoastnewspapers