Repair for me, therapy for thee?

I got the funniest damn text this morning. Out of the blue, Neighbor L wanted to know if I needed Neighbor D to drive me to town to get more lug nuts for the Jeep. I replied no, I filled my immediate needs yesterday when I biked to town and no special trip is needed.

She came back with (paraphrased) “Are you sure? [D] is going stir crazy.”

Regular readers know that Neighbor D had two minor strokes last year and is finding the recovery slow and frustrating. A very capable man, he’s suddenly clumsy, sometimes fumbles his speech and is occasionally a little slow to figure out things he used to be able to do without breaking stride. He’s used to feeling useful, and lately he doesn’t. He’s really not even supposed to drive, though I’ve never seen a problem when he does. A sudden emergency might be a problem.

I thought about it for a minute: That nail-punched tire needs to go to the shop in town. It really wasn’t worth a special trip, but on the other hand dealing with a heavy tire and wheel in the back of the truck is a lot easier if seven or eight 3-gallon water bottles aren’t in the way. No reason not to do it.

So I suggested that and she said she’d see what he thought and get back to me. I think she phrased it such that I was asking him to do it. And then a few minutes later I got another text saying he thought he could break free from his other chores for that.

I drove the Jeep to their place, dismounted the tire…

…and threw it in the back of their pickup, and then we spent a couple of hours going to town to get the Jeep fixed.

And now it is, so that hassle is out of my hair.

Guess we did one another a favor.