In my hurry to lower the Murphy bed for Day and Tom on their first night in the Casita, I accidentally pushed the UP button instead of the DOWN button. I heard a terrible popping sound emanating from the apparatus that holds the cables for upping and downing. The pulley pulled loose from the ceiling. The wench itself was not affected, but every time I saw that pulley hanging on the outside, instead of inside the roof where it belonged, I cringed.
In a former long chapter of my life, such mistakes would be magnified and mentioned over and over in loud angry voice. In the domain of what-was-then men's work, I didn't have a clue how to do things "right"--like towing a car, for example.
Funny now, how a punitive angry voice can install itself in the mind and remain there decades later. Not funny ha ha, but funny unsettling.
Jaro repaired the pulley yesterday while I was at physical therapy. Unfortunately, since I wasn't here to explain the finer points of lowering and raising the bed, his repair work made the situation worse, tangling the cables. When I discovered that last night, I felt terrible and called Mike to tell him what had happened.
Nothing broken rattles Mike. That's one of the things I love about him. He suggested that in the future I might want to plan to be here when anyone fixes anything, but said, "Hey, it's just a lesson learned, nothing more."
Jaro is coming back to try his hand at it today, but if he doesn't fix it, Mike will do it when he comes to Texas. There's nothing broken that he can't fix. "It's no big deal," he said. His voice is always reassuring and kind. I love those words--"No. Big. Deal."
After spending the morning on the phone with State Farm and body shops, to no avail, Linda Kaufman gave me the name of her body guy and he can fix the car next week, so things are perking along.
I've postponed my trip to Georgia to take care of broken things and will head that way in late September in time for fall colors.
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