TRAPPED
The sirens had wailed in that afternoon, and the buses came home right then. Weslee had left his trombone at school, they had not gone back to get instruments. I even believed it was too scary to have children and buses on the road during the tornado watch, but what do I know?
He rushed in the front door, wind chasing him, the birdfeeders flying madly, squirrels circusing and birds oddly absent today. He was full of facts about the slam dunk contests, the brackets they were doing in school. "I'm ahead, or at least I'm tied with Mitchell." It was the latest news and greatest interest to him what the scores were in basketball and which college team won which game. He raced to the TV, and plopped down to watch. I continued Feederwatch in the kitchen, when suddenly the house shook, with a loud boom, so that I thought either the TV had fallen over, the chimney had fallen onto the roof or a tree. Weslee jumped up so quickly and was next to me, I was sure he had done something. We looked around, could see nothing. I thought, earthquake. We went outside, nothing different. A car hadn't run into the house, a tree wasn't on the roof- all possible with the size of the sound. I checked the foundation of the house- maybe it had just sort of...fallen? No- but then I noticed... the garage door. Weslee went into the garage, and checked, and yes, the garage door had fallen. It was off the rails. Upon inspection, one side had simply gone haywire(in the true sense of the words), moving the wire into the side of the wall from the track where it should be and slamming the door into the ground. The door was slightly slanted, and jammed onto the ground. I tried the opener, which strainned, and grunted, and gave up.
Trapped like a rat my car could not move out of its cage. We were now also confined, and not used to life without a car, I called Jim for help. My ex has his weaknesses, and fixing things is one of them. I can always count on him to look at anything and give it a try. He hates to call a "service guy". His lady friends HATE this, since he comes running whenever I call. Maybe they just hate that we still talk so often during the week; what is this all about? Maybe as you age your memory gets bad, maybe habits are hard to break, after all we were married over 30 years. Whatever, it means nothing, except that we need to recall what it is we had planned and were forgetting to do, and needed to remember...there he is now on the phone, "This is Jim", (of course its Jim, I think I know his voice after 38 years!) "I think I'm supposed to look at the garage door this afternoon. What day is this?" "It's Thursday." "Do I take Weslee on Thursday?" "Sometimes, but Brianna hurt her ankle and can't go to Ballet, so we are staying home tonight." "Okay." "I was supposed to call you when we got home to tell you to come over." "Okay." Short. Reminders. That's all. It's what older people often do. I don't think it's that unusual, when you have not been good at keeping track of lists and pieces of paper, or using computer reminders, or having a secretary. Back to the trapped rat, or my Caravan Dodge 05.
We could not, Weslee, Jim and I, lift the garage door, with the spring taught and off track. Weslee brought up his box of blocks, and Jim pried up the door block by block with a spade, so that we gradually had a space of a 5 gallon bucket, then a little more. In a while the space was enough to push under the 5 foot ladder- then the ladder with a small waste can and that allowed me to drive out the car, and Jim considered fixing the wires. So he put the car under the door to hold it up while he adjusted the wires and springs to be like the other side. We did get the car outside before we let the door down for the night. Tonight when Jim returns we will check out the mechanism with the motor to see how that is working. It has directions, and we need to reactivate by following those. I'll let him do that.
Odd how much I depend on a garage door, and feel trapped when it's not working.
He rushed in the front door, wind chasing him, the birdfeeders flying madly, squirrels circusing and birds oddly absent today. He was full of facts about the slam dunk contests, the brackets they were doing in school. "I'm ahead, or at least I'm tied with Mitchell." It was the latest news and greatest interest to him what the scores were in basketball and which college team won which game. He raced to the TV, and plopped down to watch. I continued Feederwatch in the kitchen, when suddenly the house shook, with a loud boom, so that I thought either the TV had fallen over, the chimney had fallen onto the roof or a tree. Weslee jumped up so quickly and was next to me, I was sure he had done something. We looked around, could see nothing. I thought, earthquake. We went outside, nothing different. A car hadn't run into the house, a tree wasn't on the roof- all possible with the size of the sound. I checked the foundation of the house- maybe it had just sort of...fallen? No- but then I noticed... the garage door. Weslee went into the garage, and checked, and yes, the garage door had fallen. It was off the rails. Upon inspection, one side had simply gone haywire(in the true sense of the words), moving the wire into the side of the wall from the track where it should be and slamming the door into the ground. The door was slightly slanted, and jammed onto the ground. I tried the opener, which strainned, and grunted, and gave up.
Trapped like a rat my car could not move out of its cage. We were now also confined, and not used to life without a car, I called Jim for help. My ex has his weaknesses, and fixing things is one of them. I can always count on him to look at anything and give it a try. He hates to call a "service guy". His lady friends HATE this, since he comes running whenever I call. Maybe they just hate that we still talk so often during the week; what is this all about? Maybe as you age your memory gets bad, maybe habits are hard to break, after all we were married over 30 years. Whatever, it means nothing, except that we need to recall what it is we had planned and were forgetting to do, and needed to remember...there he is now on the phone, "This is Jim", (of course its Jim, I think I know his voice after 38 years!) "I think I'm supposed to look at the garage door this afternoon. What day is this?" "It's Thursday." "Do I take Weslee on Thursday?" "Sometimes, but Brianna hurt her ankle and can't go to Ballet, so we are staying home tonight." "Okay." "I was supposed to call you when we got home to tell you to come over." "Okay." Short. Reminders. That's all. It's what older people often do. I don't think it's that unusual, when you have not been good at keeping track of lists and pieces of paper, or using computer reminders, or having a secretary. Back to the trapped rat, or my Caravan Dodge 05.
We could not, Weslee, Jim and I, lift the garage door, with the spring taught and off track. Weslee brought up his box of blocks, and Jim pried up the door block by block with a spade, so that we gradually had a space of a 5 gallon bucket, then a little more. In a while the space was enough to push under the 5 foot ladder- then the ladder with a small waste can and that allowed me to drive out the car, and Jim considered fixing the wires. So he put the car under the door to hold it up while he adjusted the wires and springs to be like the other side. We did get the car outside before we let the door down for the night. Tonight when Jim returns we will check out the mechanism with the motor to see how that is working. It has directions, and we need to reactivate by following those. I'll let him do that.
Odd how much I depend on a garage door, and feel trapped when it's not working.
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