|Seriously, cat. This is not going to work.|
It's complicated by the fact that while the brakes slowed the chair down, the wheel treads have worn down enough that they didn't actually stop the chair if it's on any kind of an incline at all. Since large portions of the streets in the Pacific Northwest run down steep hills that end in things like major traffic intersections or you know, the ocean, this had the potential to be really exciting. So I made an appointment and took it in.
So I spent an hour and a half or so tootling around in Gig Harbor while the repairs were done, and I'm now happy to say that Connor has a chair that goes when it's supposed to go and stops when it's supposed to stop-- sans the giant clanging noise. Hooray! It's amazing what a difference a simple tune-up of equipment can make; I didn't realize just how annoying the problem was until I wasn't dealing with it anymore. Connor seems to enjoy the smoother, quieter ride too.
Eden leaves for her first ever church retreat tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. It will be the first time she's slept away from home without me there, so she's a bit nervous about it. I think she'll have a pretty great time once she gets out there though; she'll know quite a few people and it's only for one night. I think it's a good way to ease into getting used to some independence, and I think it might make her more open to the idea of a summer camp some time in the future. I have some really fond memories of the camps I attended as a kid, and I'd love for her to have some similar experiences.
It's been getting colder here, and the cats have started spending as much time as they can on laps or burrowed under warm laundry as I'm folding it. I have seasonal lap cats-- they condescend to sit on me only in the winter time, probably because they think I make a good heating pad. Then they get really huffy every time I want to move because my legs have fallen asleep or something.
We had a pint sized wool-lined bed we'd bought for Eden's guinea pigs a while back that they didn't care for, so I washed it in anticipation of putting it away. It was sitting out on the couch for all of five minutes before it became Cricket's new favorite happy place-- despite the fact that it's about three times too small for her to fit inside. I ended up buying her a more appropriately sized snuggly cat bed so she wouldn't look so pathetic and could fit her entire body inside the thing, but I had to stick the guinea pig bed inside it because otherwise she completely ignored it. Every once in a while I take it out and wash it and she waits by the dryer until it's done and she can attempt to stuff her entire body into the thing again. I think she's convinced that if she tries hard enough, someday she'll fit.