A Borrowed Massage Chair

I spent most of my morning getting to know a borrowed massage chair.  Said chair is approximately ten years old.  Understandably it has a few quirks.

I'm not sure what dark corner the chair was stashed away in, but from the layer of dust I could tell it hasn't seen much recent use.  I pulled off the pads that were removable and used a warm soapy dish cloth to wipe everything down.

I had been warned that the armrest didn't lock in place and was tied up with a strap.  I untied the knot in the strap & loosened the buckle.  I checked the pivot points and locking mechanisms.  It appears that the strap is meant to hold the armrest up & the locking mechanism keeps it at the proper angle.  I retrieved an allen wrench and screwdriver from the garage and proceeded to tighten all of the fasteners.  I then rewove the strap through the buckle in a manner that would not require the knot to hold it in place.  I am hoping that little or no adjustment will be needed for the armrest when changing clients.

I then checked the height adjustments on the seat and the chair itself.  With a cable and locking pin the chair height can be adjusted, however; when in a higher position the chair seems unstable.  I like having a wider base and don't mind lowering my body to work.  The seat has a spring loaded locking pin adjustment and when put through the paces seemed to work well.  I did notice however that depending on where the chair height pin was placed limited how far the seat could be adjusted.

Considering the age of the chair it is in very good condition and should serve me well for the few hours required.  I am not a huge fan of chair massage and do not wish to purchase my own chair.  Next time someone asks me to do chair massage at their event I will talk them into Reflexology instead.

Rebecca

7 Things Mom Taught Me

Mom taught me how to cook.  Now I'm not a chef.  No one looks forward to what I'll bring to the next pot luck luncheon, but it won't be the paper plates or a bag of ice.  In our house black pepper was the only spice you were likely to find.  Thursday was spaghetti night and Sunday was usually pot roast.  If there was any left over we could have beef & noodles on Monday.  Mom taught me enough that I can feed my family.

Mom taught me how to clean.  I'm sure that I have an exaggerated memory, but I swear that I had to dust the entire house every Saturday while I was growing up.  To this day I hate dusting.  My brothers and I each had chores to do, but we all did the dishes together; wash, dry, & put away.  Mom would threaten us with stories of how her dad would make her and her sisters wash every dish in the cupboards if he found a dirty dish.  Cleaning included the laundry.  Over the years we had different scenarios from having to take the clothes to a laundromat to having a laundry chute take the clothes to the basement laundry room, but sorting was always an important job.  Mom taught me enough to keep my home & family presentable.

Mom taught me how to garden.  She taught me the difference between a weed and a plant.  If you pull on it and it comes out easy, it was a plant.  Her definition of a weed is anything that you don't want growing where it's growing.  Most people consider Dandelions weeds, but Mom & I looked forward to them blooming every Spring.  For me that was the sign I would be allowed outside barefoot.  I think Mom just likes them because they are yellow.  She taught me enough that I can work with mother nature.

Mom taught me how to crochet.  It has kept my hands busy and me out of trouble for many years.  Of course I took a good thirty years to learn to read a pattern, but until then I just used the stitches Mom taught me.  She taught me enough that there are a good many afghans in the world with strands of my hair crocheted into them.

Mom taught me to love to read.  I remember her reading out loud to my brothers and I when we were kids.  I also remember her having several books 'going' at the same time; one in the bedroom, one in the bathroom, one in her work bag.  I didn't understand then how she could keep them all straight, but now I have my own trio going.  Mom taught me enough to pass the love on to my daughter.

Mom taught me how to drive.  She swears I tried to kill her by driving us into a ditch, but she's the one who grabbed the steering wheel.  We also never actually ended up in the ditch or even off the road.  Should I mention that my driving instructor also claims that I tried to kill him?  

Mom also taught me the importance of vehicle maintenance.  Things such as changing the oil before you can drive it to see your boyfriend; and staying in the garage even when your dad is yelling, because he is yelling at the car not at you.  Mom taught me enough to get where I need to go.