Tires

The first day back home after a lecture tour is always a difficult time. Transitioning from travel to home has never been easy for either of us. We feel out of place. We feel out of time. It's like we become unpracticed at regular every day living. We got up on Saturday morning both feeling odd in our home and without a real plan for the day. I decided, as Joe was going out the door to return the rental car, to go out with him. I'd meet him over at the Bay and then we'd see what happened next.

On my way to meet him my chair squeaked up the street. It's been doing that more and more and I've been thinking of getting someone in to service it. But the idea scares me. Whenever we take our car in for servicing, they want to fix the car by doing surgery on our bank account. The same will inevitably be true with my power chair. I glanced over and saw a reflection of my tires and noticed that they were getting quite low. It's something I'd been remarking on for weeks but have not had the gumption to do anything about. Well a day with no agenda is a perfect day to do things that never seem to get onto an agenda. I thought I'd suggest this to Joe.

When we met in the Bay and suggested that we put on the agenda things that just don't fit into our lives, he mentioned that he needed socks and couldn't get around to buying some. Well we were in the Bay, they have socks. We bought socks. Then we headed for Canadian Tire to see if they would put air in my tires. Whoever designed the chair did so such that the tire can only have air put in it by a mechanic. I have no idea why. When I need air I head up to Canadian Tire and ask one of the mechanics there if they'll do it for me. These guys aren't a talkative lot, but they always do it, they always refuse payment, they are always gruffly nice about it. Even so I don't like bothering them.

We got there and into the garage. I asked the closest mechanic to help with the tires. He nodded, mumbled something, then directed me into a bay where he could look at the tires and get the air hose. It's weird being in the chair when air is pumped in. I feel the lift, the power of the air. First one side. Then the other. I thanked the guy and we drove off.

All the way home I had to adjust to driving on tires that responded to the slightest touch. It was almost like magic, like maybe my tires hadn't been filled with air, but the spirit of generosity.