Taking Back Hours Bit at a Time

Nothing adds up surprisingly fast…

I did something radical today: I cleaned a bit of carpet in a topless car that had been left not well covered for more than a year in the wet Pacific Northwest.

But that wasn’t the radical part. For this effort I left my phone upstairs in the house where it couldn’t be seen or heard.

I live alone and had been telling myself that having my phone nearby for a 911 call if I fell off a ladder or dropped a car on my chest or had a heart attack was just smart. A man I knew was working under his van when by mistake he toggled the transmission into gear. It was a slow death I don’t like to think about, but I try to be cautious.

But not every task is dangerous and omnipresent connection has downsides, too. It was nice searching cubbyholes for vacuum attachments without electronic interruption.

There were spots on the carpet that that didn’t come clean at first, despite a spray of nearly boiling soapy water and a very stiff brush. Clean microfibre towels turned out to be best, nap to nap against the carpet and pulling dirt up instead of pushing it around. Scrubbed until my knees offered a joint ultimatum against providing total support on driveway gravel.

The carpet is still a bit worn but is now clean enough to replace the seats. The floor looked good and that felt good, as did the absence of frequent spam calls that just piss me off.

As the sun went down and air began to chill, I drove the car into the shop while sitting low on the car floor where I’d removed the seats to get at all the carpet. I was afraid I’d drop the clutch and not be able to reach the brake, but then had something else to worry about when realizing that though I’d pushed the car out under the partially-open garage door without hitting the half-closed convertible top, angles might be different driving the car back in with the wheels slightly cocked.

I took it slow, with no distracting ping of messages demanding a response.

It gets dark early this time of year, but shop lights were bright enough to dress the driver’s seat with leather conditioner. Leather treated with good product shows age as resilience and character, like someone who lived well knowing love and adventure.

A scuff like a pea pod on the side bolster disappeared, though a couple of spots in a web of crevices remained. Better not to be obsessive, even seat leather has limits.

I’ll condition the new (to this car) passenger seat tomorrow, and reinstall both seats next week when everything has had a chance to thoroughly dry.

There’s time to get this done the way it should be, much more time now than before, when attention was constantly consumed reacting immediately to demands that often needed no response at all.