And so it rained.

James isn't allowed to get the power chair wet, so I offered to take him to his club meeting. He decided against going to lunch with the guys because he wouldn't be able to make the walk between the restaurant and the hobby store; just too painful for his back, knees, and feet. So we had a couple of hours to knock around before we needed to leave.

Some months back he was having painful problems with his legs. The rheumatologist told us at his April appointment that he had probably had something called a Baker's cyst that formed behind his knee that partially contributed to the problem that made it so tough for him to walk at Atomicon in March. When it burst this caused the terrible "popping" and excruciating pain he heard and felt when we went to the urologist one Friday, pain that didn't cease even when he lay down. The other problem appeared to be his home office chair. It was suddenly very wobbly and he was pretty much working his knees and feet eight hours a day balancing in that chair when he teleworked.

We called the manufacturer (Serta) and they told him they could do nothing about getting him a new chair because we didn't have the receipt (it has a three-year guarantee). Who would have thought to keep a receipt for an office chair? However, the lady he spoke to was sympathetic. She asked what the chair was doing, and James explained how very wobbly it was. She said most of the time a wobbly chair is caused by the plate at the bottom (the one that fastens the wheels and the upright with the pneumatic tube to the chair) that has cracked. She took down our address and said she would send us a new plate free of charge. This was in April. We never saw the plate and figured she'd gotten our address wrong.

Thursday when I was still looking for the missing DVD cases a box turned up on our doorstep for James. Inside was the errant metal plate.

So that's what we did this morning: take the old plate off and put the new one on, which was harder than we reckoned because the pneumatic tube was stuck fast in the hole in the original plate. We had to take turns beating the old plate off the tube with a hammer. And sure enough it was cracked. And sure enough when we put the new one on the chair had quit wobbling. So now it's back upstairs and the cracked plate is in the trash.

[Postscript, June 12: Oh, this is too funny. "Dingdong!" said the doorbell today. At the door was a package. Another metal plate from Serta! I put it away in the laundry room in case the plate breaks again.]

It was raining pitchforks and little fishes when I drove James up to Hobbytown a little after noon and deposited him as close as possible to the door. (I did not, however, park as closely as the inconsiderate dude we passed as we cruised by Bed, Bath & Beyond. The one at Town Center has a big overhang and some guy had parked his big long SUV under the overhang, completely blocking the front door of the store and the sidewalk, so he could load something into it without getting wet. Sheesh.) Then I went on to Whole Foods, as James was looking for more Hippeas (they are basically low-salt Cheetos made with garbanzo beans). Publix is always out of them and only carries three of the five flavors. I found the barbecue and the sriracha on a top shelf, of course over my head. A tall gentleman kindly helped me out. I also got some barbecue-flavor pretzels and turkey wild rice soup which we later had for supper.

From there I went to the library and read Marie Kondo's Spark Joy until James called me to come pick him up. We came home by Lidl for me to get bread, which I enjoyed with the soup, which was quite good! And by then the rain had let up, so we could ride with the windows down. (Lidl, however, had been a mess: the lines were all backed up, and there was only one self-serve register open out of four and that was misbehaving.)

Watched two more episodes of Good Omens tonight. I am not in raptures about it like some folks are (but then I've never been able to make it through a Terry Pratchett book, either), but it is fun; and I love the relationship between Aziraphale and Crowley. Also love the fact that the Hellhound is now a cute terrier dog. Having peeked in the book at Barnes & Noble yesterday, it sounds as if the adaptation sticks pretty closely to the book, but that is certainly because Neil Gaiman has done it.

Oh, yeah...the box of DVD cases that I reordered yesterday was nestled before the front door when we got home. Still wonder what delayed the first so radically.

Labels: books, events, food, health, repairs, television, weather

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