Yet Another Journal

Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans,
cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of.


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» Saturday, December 30, 2017
Snatching Defeat from the Jaws of Victory
I had a very profitable day yesterday. I'm determined to get all the junk cleared from the house, and I wanted to fill up a trash bag up (and I did). There were other things hanging about, and the wrapping paper from Christmas, so I had that to begin with, and I cleaned out James' two drawers in the bathroom. There were old Kaiser bags in there from three years ago.

When I telework James pretty much has to dress up in the dark, and I've been thinking of making a little dressing room in there for him. There's already one of my grandmother's old chairs in there, and I added a second one that is in the library downstairs. With all the junk cleaned out (tossed in the trash or put in a box for donation) I made a little space where he can get dressed; he can even use the stepstool to help put his boots on. A couple of hooks behind the door and a small light would make it complete.

There was only one tiny problem: I used the dishwasher this morning and it would not drain. After watching a video on YouTube and calling Bosch, I bailed it out and washed the filter (but I had done that several months ago; it was not the filter that was clogged), and then tested the dishwasher on a rinse and hold. It sounded like it started to drain, but there was still water at the bottom of the cup the filter goes into. But I found the order we put in at Lowes and discovered we did get the extended warranty. So someone will be here on Tuesday to look at it.

After such a productive day we had a terrible time with dinner. We were going to Longhorn but it was completely packed, no handicapped spaces or close spaces available (James had put the power chair up). Everywhere else was crowded as well. So we went past Bed, Bath and Beyond where I was unsuccessful in finding the small light I wanted. We ate at Ken's Grill and did the last of our grocery shopping at Kroger.

We were up early this morning, finally headed on our trip to Chattanooga. We had breakfast first and stowed some oranges in the truck so we wouldn't be tempted to snack. It was going to be chilly later on, so we put on our warmest things and I put our scarves in the cab, although we planned to be back before dark. We were headed out toward Windy Hill to get gas when James realized he forgot his phone. This has been typical of this whole plan to day trip up there. We planned to go weeks ago, but first it snowed, then was James' party, then last weekend it rained. Today it was fine, just cold.

I retrieved the phone, and, since gas was cheaper up north of our location, I asked James if he would rather go through Delk Road to get to the freeway. This meant going through Sandtown Road. We were just driving, talking of nothing in particular--Tylenol, actually, for James' knees, when we crossed through the intersection at Pat Mell Road. The cab of the truck had just cleared the intersection when it happened: someone smashed right into the right rear of the truck. James knows he had the green light, but the other driver said that as well. The police said since there were no witnesses no blame could be assigned, and no one got a ticket.

I don't want to talk about the whole story, but the truck is toast. If it was just the back panel and the rear lights, it might be okay, but either the right rear wheel or the axle is bent. The chair lift is also twisted and bent. The other car hit us so hard the power chair was flung across the street and landed in the ditch on the other side. It had a twist in it when they got it back on the lift, but it straightened itself out when James rode it back into the garage.

Plus this is his second accident in two years. They will total the truck and then cancel his insurance and he'll have to go with a high priced company. We've no money for a new truck, but Twilight can't pull the chair. It's all a big horrible stinking mess.

We limped the truck home (it bounces like a bronco if you drive it over ten miles per hour) and just sat for the rest of the day; only watching the M*A*S*H marathon was some tiny consolation. The joy has gone out of the season. I want to bury my head in my mother's lap and cry and cry. No way to turn the clocks back and take a different direction. I don't even know why  I try to make things better. Once I do something else f**ks up.

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