Well oiled

This evening Owl and I took a trip out to do a few chores. First we went to the recycle point at one of the local supermarkets. You get points on your card if you recycle glass bottles, cans and plastic bottles. However when we got there the recycle machine was out of operation. There were however some temporary bottle and can banks. Between us we managed to get rid of all that we had brought with us in about 5 minutes.

Following this we went across town to a well known DIY store. We wanted to get some lengths of decking to make repairs to our decking at home. We selected one of those flat bed trolleys, much easier to control than the normal shopping type trolley we used last time.

We knew what we wanted so headed straight to the far left back corner of the store. We were also looking for a rainwater diverter for one of our water butts. The plumbing dept appeared to be for internal plumbing only. Perhaps the piece we want will be in the garden section, after all that’s where the guttering should be in my opinion.  We found the decking we wanted, selected 6 lengths. I didn’t believe we could comfortably transport more  than that at once.

Owl left me in charge of the trolley whilst he went in search of the other items he wanted.  After a few moments I was bored of loitering in the wood section. I began to push the trolley through the centre aisle. I walk slowly, taking my time waiting for Owl to appear. My trolley starts to squeal. A very loud high pitch squeal. There is no way that I could creep up on my husband. The whole store can hear my progress as I move with my trolley. It is very embarrassing but it occurs to me that there was no squeal until the wood was loaded onto the trolley.

Owl returns to me and we continue to make our way through the store. I am just starting to say that maybe we should re distribute the weight of the wood into two piles, when one of the store employees rushes over with a can of WD40 in his hand.

‘You have the squeaky one then.’

He sets about spraying all four wheels. However when I start to move again the trolley is still squeaking. The employee again sprays the wheels, this time on the inside. Again I begin to move off, but the squeak is still there, a little more muted but still present. Now, because I have a slight hearing loss, unusually I can hear high pitches better than low pitches. (Most people are the other way around). I am finding this squeak very unpleasant. I try pushing the trolley whilst sticking my fingers in my ears. (Not easy).

‘Maybe we should split the wood into two piles, redistribute the weight?’ I hear myself  saying.

Before anyone can say another word the employee has grabbed 3 of the lengths of wood and moved them to the other side of the trolley so that we now have 2 equal stacks. Hey what do you know, the trolley has stopped squeaking.

‘Can you tell us where we can find one of these water diverters?’

Owl asked the employee, holding up the old one he had brought with us.

‘Try the garden centre.’

‘That’s what my wife said.’

How smug did I feel ?

I left Owl browsing around the store whilst I went through the checkout and loaded up the car. Before settling down with my book to wait for my husband to reappear.

I couldn’t help having a small giggle at the thought of a mere woman out witting to men. I just knew that if the trolley only started to squeak after the wood was loaded that must be the problem not the wheels.

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