It's a weird time.

It's a weird time, and of all the things I might post, what I feel like telling you about, here on the Friday afternoon before the snuck-up-on-me long holiday weekend, is how I'm carrying my tire pressure gauge with me.

A few days ago I saw that I had a slightly flattened tire on my automobile.  I took said automobile to the gas station at Main and Wm and put air in it.  The air thingie didn't have one of those built-in pressure gauges (which are no doubt terribly inaccurate but Good Enough For Me call me a bad car steward fine that's fair) so I dug into my glove compartment and found that I did indeed have a tire gauge.

            

my tire gauge              

So I had the gauge in my pocket that night and took it out again the next day in case I needed it to re-check the tire, but the tire looked fine.  It continues to look fine, but I continue putting it back into my pocket rather than back into the glove compartment.  (Yes "glovebox" is shorter but I don't like "glovebox" or "glove box" as much.)

Having the tire pressure gauge in my pocket is good.  Not quite a worry stone, but maybe sorta like that.  A talisman more than a relic.  A symbol (anything could be) and a comfort object.  And a tire pressure gauge above all those.