So. Here was the plan this morning: I ride the scooter out to the car, take it apart, put it in, go to Stitches.

Here’s what happened: rode the scooter out to the car, took it apart, got the seat and the battery pack, which is the heaviest part, into the car. Carefully sized up how to get the base in: bend the knees, correct angle, etc, reached for it–

–and as I lifted it something felt like it snapped in my back. I managed to get the base safely down to the ground without dropping it, so it couldn’t have been too bad–but then it did drop me and I sat there on the sidewalk in intense pain, going, NOW what am I going to do?!

And I had to lift that battery pack back out again in order to get the thing back into the house. I did; I thought that was it, my day was over, I’m done.

Becca to the rescue. “I’m a nurse, I lift patients heavier than that all the time.”

“Are you sure?! I mean, it’s heavy!”

And not only did she do that, she drove me the ten miles to Stitches and she did it all over again to pick me up in the evening and she took me home.

Wow.  Someone definitely needs a chocolate torte.

But here I go again: Richard remembered this evening that he has a commitment tomorrow starting early in the morning till late afternoon. He can get the scooter in my car but not out again at Stitches; he can pick me up in the evening and deal with it going home if I can get there without him.

Um…

But in the meantime, as I waited for Becca at closing time, my old friend Warren happened to come out the same door. We had been looking for each other all day. I had knit him a hat, while second-guessing myself and wondering how much a knitter needed a hat.

He surprised me by saying wow–he’d been needing a hat! He said you’d think he would have one, but he was always giving his knitting away and he didn’t have one and he just never knit for himself.

And there you go. Perfect.

(As for the scooter, we’ve got it worked out to where I just have to lift the pieces out of the car at the event. Okay; down is the easy part.)