I needed that reminder and tacked up a mental note up to help it stay important. I promptly forgot. Today, however, this
I pulled out three tools I figured I would use. It turns out that the middle tool, which is a razor-sharp craft knife, was the most important. The old pair of scissors were of no use: the only time I touched them was when I moved them out of the way.
So it turns out that all five sets of wheels were pretty wadded. I am a messy sewist or seamstress or, well heck, I'm messy no matter what I'm doing. So this pile below, yeah, that's not so bad, actually.
Now, though, I can whistle and whiz and whirl past just about anything my heart desires.
Of course, there's not enough room for whistling past, unless the rider is a grandchild.
Those little people can ride a chair, let me tell you! I clocked one at 50 mph in a curve, but she took a tumble and it hurt, so we've not had as much speeding since. I figure it's just a matter of time till she gets back behind the wheel.
The only problem is that I'm cleaning wheels on my chair, not on the extra one that the grands use as a Nascar racer.