It was so cold last night that I added my dressing gown to my winter doona + extra blanket combo that's been on the bed for weeks. Wore socks and pyjamas, and still felt like if I turned over too quick in bed I'd accidentally snap my toes off. But today, on the bus, the sun shone and Spring was definitely in the air and yea, it was good.
The bus. I'm on her again. Oh, yes, I got Olive's puncture fixed. Had the ingenious idea of getting the Beaurepaires man out to supply and fit me 2 x new tyres and voila - puncture fixed. Two parakeets killed with one pebble. I thought it was pretty smart thinking really. (The tyres were desperately required. Like a typical girl, I just don't look after my car. Have been driving around on bald tyres for an extra year since recommendations to get new ones. Hmm).
On Tuesday I drove to the station and left my car there, as usual and caught the train. Yesterday, walked outside to get in my car to drive to the station only to find - flat. Again. Totally flat tyre. Same spot, rear passenger side. But different tyre. So either it's a large coincidence, or else someone is playing funny buggers.
Luckily, Susie is feeling well again and the contemplation of changing a tyre tomorrow is not particularly daunting at all. I look forward to proving my tough girly strength on some wheel nuts (I'm pretty strong, you know). I will be interested to have this tyre checked out and see if they can tell me whether it's been let down. If it has, I shall be expecting every time I leave my house to have a flat tyre. Oh well, I guess I would get to sharpen up my tyre changing skills if that's the case. (And maybe my shotgun skills if they do it again :)
Edit: My dad just rang to offer to drive over tomorrow to change my tyre. All the way across town. For someone who once had real trouble accepting any help from anyone, I'm so much better at allowing people to do stuff for me :) When I was sick, my Mum would offer to do the dishes for me and I would say no, even though I was really ill. On Monday she did them and I just let her. It's nice, for an independent girl with prior pride issues, to let people do stuff for her :)
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I know just what you mean about accepting help. I'm better than I was now as well but I used to HATE it. Never did figure out quite why.
ReplyDeleteyou have been smashing mirrors and walking under ladders!!!!, I know you have - Oh, Shit!! there's a black cat out my window - gotta go!!! (and check my tyres) -
ReplyDeleteBTW - on yah dad!!!
bleedin eck! Olive's been fiddled with :( What a pain, but nice of Stevo to come and fix it!
ReplyDeleteTess - mine stemmed from this wilful independence that tried to not be beholden to anybody. A yukky state of affairs, to be sure.
ReplyDeleteMork - yes, I have been doing all of those things. Be careful, or I shall turn my evil eye upon YOU! Bah! :) Yes, it is very nice of my dad to come out and do this for me. He shows his love by actions, that's for sure.
Andi - yes, I suspect some foul malingerer is messing with my poor skanky Olive. Unless it's an amazing coincidence, I dunno
I am so proud of you babe! It still irks me to let anyone do anything for me, even my husband!
ReplyDeleteI don't know how it came about, dude. For a while, I knew I had to let people help me sometimes because ... I guess I felt that nudging, intuitive thing that said to me,'this is where you gotta go next'. And then somehow I went from that to being okay with it, without having any idea how. :)
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