I get to the Shell station, pull up to the air pump, and realize that I do not know how much air goes in a tire. The obvious answer to me would be "until it's not flat", but realizing this probably wasn't an exact estimate, I called dear hubby and the coversation went like this:
Me: "Hi honey, I have a front right tire that is very low, but I am sitting in a Shell station right by the air machine, how many pounds of air goes into a tire?"
Dear Hubby: "Take your car to the Ford dealership and ask for my service writer, Kevin; he will take care of it."
Me: "I am already here at the gas station, and surely I can put air in the tire. Just tell me how much air because I have several errands, and dealership will take forever just to look at it..."
Dear Hubby: "Do you know how to put air in your tire?"
Me: "I am sure I can figure it out, just tell me how much air..."
I filled the tire, replaced the cap, and went inside to get a drink and use the restroom. I waited for about ten minutes before leaving and the tire was still round, and appeared to be fine, fine, fine. I figured that was enough time to see if it was going to go flat again. Long story short, I drove downtown to 1919 Wyandotte in Kansas City to order my spinning wheel. After I came out of the fiber shop, full of joy at having just ordered my spinning wheel, I noticed that the wretched tire had gone completely flat. As you might guess, the second conversation with dear hubby was not nearly so cordial as the first, and went something like - "Why didn't you just go to the dealership like I told you to??? There are no service stations of any kind where you are, and now I will have to come and fix it!!!" Unfortunately, I have no clue how to change a tire - yes, I know it is pathetic. Before you all fuss at me too much, I have other skill sets... I can swim, whistle with my fingers, and drive a stick. I am getting AAA Motor Club, or so I am told...
Dear Hubby was there in less than 30 minutes. When the lug nuts (every one of them) seemed to be frozen on the wheel, he had to jump up and down on the jack to break them loose, and all I could think of was the chorus to the song "Jumpin' Jack Flash" or dear hubby's case, "Jumpin' Jack Flat." Luckily he did not see me snap this picture of him...
This is what I spent my Christmas money on. Thanks, Mom! This is my comfort yarn, Encore. It can be machine washed and dried, and will become the Butterfly sweater from Plymouth Yarn. The wine color will be the majority of the sweater, and the ribbing at the bottom, cuffs, and neck will be with both the wine and the chocolate brown - gotta love that combination, right?