Mr B has taken possession of a brand new wheelchair.
It is much wider than his old wheelchair, with a padded and supportive
back and adjustable foot-pads. Sweet Esmé from the Wheelchair Service tells him he will be “everso much more comfortable” in his new wheels. Unfortunately Mr B begs to differ.
You see, this is the difference between Mr B and me. If I were informed that my new chair (wheeled or otherwise) would be comfortable then I would believe what I was told. Implicitly. Moreover, should it not prove to be as
comfy as I had been promised, I would immediately assume that it must be All My Fault. Mr B, ever contrary, lays the blame squarely on the manufacturers of wheelchairs in general, and his new wheelchair in particular.
I have to concede there is one problem with the new wheelchair - it is a bit higher off the ground than the old one so that Mr B can’t actually get his legs under the dining room table. After
he has knocked his poor knees on the table a few times, I accept that something needs to be done and order a set of furniture risers on-line.
Truly Wonderful Kay, who helps me keep my house in order, fitted the risers to the table legs for me. It wasn’t the easiest job so I was most grateful. Kay is very good at seeing what needs to be done and doing it. Why, just today, as well as fitting
the furniture risers she finally persuaded me to part company with a very old, very dead, very dusty orchid which I have been waiting to burst into flower again for the best part of three years. She also queried whether I really needed half a Dalek decorating
the windowsill in the little loo but to throw that out would, I explained (slightly shamefacedly) be A Step Too Far. The half a Dalek is a sweet memory of a long ago craft session with two of my (Not So Very Little) Welsh Boys which turned into a bit of a
Modelling Disaster when I failed to read the instructions on the modelling kit I had bought them. I have kept the half a Dalek as a souvenir and to remind myself to read instructions in future.
There weren’t any instructions at yesterday afternoon’s craft session to help me with the making of a key-ring in the shape of a colourful chap made out of buttons - but I did have the advantage of being able to
copy one which the Lovely Linda had made earlier. As a result I knew I would need ten small buttons for each leg, seven larger buttons for his middle, five buttons for each arm and another five for his titfer tat (or hat, if you prefer.) Easy! I told myself,
as I rifled excitedly through a tray containing buttons of every shape and colour. I was in Button Heaven!
Except that as soon as I started threading buttons onto
elasticated string I quickly discovered it was very much more fiddly than I had thought it would be. What with my Recovering Shoulder impeding movement, I was struggling a little - but eventually, with a sense of triumph, I finished him. I have named him Percy.
Short for Perseverance, don’t you know? Later on, back at home, I sent photos of him to the Youngest of the Darling Daughters and to granddaughter Eleanor, both of whom could be guaranteed to send back words of Fulsome Praise. There is nothing quite
like words of praise, the more fulsome the better, to make one Puff With Pride.
Also back home, I decided I needed to try out the dining room table for size. With
the risers on each leg (the table legs! The table legs! Not my legs! Oh, for goodness sake!) the table is now so high that when seated my chin is not far above the table top. Placing my palms face downwards on said table top I resemble a meerkat, peering over
at my Yankee Candle and Christmas poinsettia which are now at eye level. Meal times may well be interesting in future - while attempting to thread buttons onto elasticated string would certainly be a non-starter for me in my present Meerkat Mode.
I am wondering how I will explain this to members of our Nomination Whist Group when we reconvene next week. Maybe I could suggest that there will be more room under the
table for them to hide their cards from view, thus implying that the change in status, height-wise, of our dining room table is all for their benefit?
think that, like Mr B, they will beg to differ...