Hello good people.
I include some brief thoughts relating to the title of this thread but first I will report on one of the problems of life in a wheelchair. We were coming to the graveside part of the funeral service and the weather was dry but humid. Two of the grave diggers and one of the undertakers kindly offered to lift me over the kerb and onto the grass. Fine. Within three feet my front wheels had submerged into the soft sodden soil. In his rush to rescue me, one of the diggers slipped on the mud and cascaded into the back of my chair. There was a distinct suckery sound as they disengaged the wheels from the clinging topsoil. I was carried Cleopatra like in my chair to the graveside. Where there’s a will there’s a way. I left a trail of mud for the rest of the day.
Steve