Wow, here’s a fantastic new repository of info for a shade-tree n00b like me: Secondchancegarage.com. I followed a link for interpreting a vacuum gauge and stayed for Let’s Create a Carburetor!.
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From Jalopnik.com, a bit of timely information: How To Rebuild An American V-8 Carburetor. I’m in the process of buying a couple of 2-barrel Holley 2300’s for rebuild and tinkering so that I can become both familiar and adept at working with them.
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While Mama was out this evening, Finn and I enjoyed our weekly wednesday bath night together. She’s getting better about having water poured over her head, and we’ve worked out a new system for washing that doesn’t involve a meltdown (she doesn’t like being laid on her back in the bathtub anymore). Once she was dried and bundled in some warm PJ’s, her eyes got heavy so I put her right to bed. I cleaned up around the house a bit and then went out to the garage (stopping only to haul 15 bags of yard waste to the curb) to finish installing the Tuffy console in the Scout. Now that that’s securely in place with stainless hardware, I can carry some basic tools and other gear without fear of it walking away when I’m parked. I also went through my bin of bolts and found two sheetmetal screws to fit the inner door latches, so that one doesn’t have to roll the windows down and use the exterior handles in order to get out of the truck. I also remounted the passenger side inner door skin, figuring I probably won’t get to replacing the window mechanism anytime soon. It think, given the forecast, that Friday will be a Scout day.
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I’m noticing a trend on The Facebook these days: the people who used to be the biggest trustafarian hippy wanna-be hardcore druggies at my college are now the ones spamming my news feed with right-wing links from FOX news, Glen Beck, and every Tea Party nutbag out there. Seriously, guys?
I’m slowly continuing to add content from the static archives into WordPress. I’m noticing that I used to write more back in the day.
I picked up a set of TORX bits in preparation to remove the sunroof from the Slattern sometime this week(end). Hopefully I can get it back down and into place without having to dismantle half the interior of the car. Hopefully. I also picked up a bag of locknuts for the Tuffy console in the Scout; it’ll take 5 minutes to get that bolted in permanently.
I stumbled upon this last week and found it too good not to share:
This is part one of six. Shane McGowan looks like an absolute mess (and this was filmed five years ago).
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I don’t know how to play chess, but I understand the basic concept—it’s the rules I never bothered to learn. It can be used as an allegory for many things in life. Like yesterday, for example. Jen had an early morning client meeting, which meant Finn needed daycare. Which meant I needed to get her there in the CR-V. But Jen had to be able to pick her up, so I had to get the CR-V back to the house and swap it for another vehicle.
Meanwhile, Pep Boys replaced the defective battery they’d sold me late last year, but I hadn’t had the time to drop it into the Slattern, so I was going to have to take the Scout on her inaugural test drive to work when I brought the CR-V back. Got all that? Good.
Jen made it to her meeting on time, Finn made it to daycare on time, and I made it to work about 30 minutes late, but the Scout did just fine. No leaks, no spitting coolant, and everything felt great.
During the day, I called Bank of America to replace my ATM card for our joint account, and after one abortive attempt I was able to get a CSR to order me a new card. before I hung up I asked her to verify the account she’d altered, and she gave me my primary checking account, not the joint account. (This, after punching in the joint account number and my soc in order to access the main menu, then repeating it to the CSR as soon as she got on the line. Isn’t technology amazing?) So I corrected her, verified she had the right account and verified she hadn’t cancelled my primary checking card. See where this is going?
On my way out the door from work, I called to order some kebabs for dinner, because Jen didn’t have time to get anything set up and because it was a LOST night. I turned the key in the Scout and got a lovely click-click-click from the battery, which had fired up just fine in the morning but decided to crap on itself sometime during the day. The guy downstairs in the booth, who couldn’t have been nicer, didn’t have a battery charger, and the garage was pretty deserted by the time I was there, so I reluctantly called Jen, who was in transit with Finn, to come and give me a jumpstart. She made it into the city in record time, and after some fiddling with the jumper cables (they will be replaced next month) we got the Scout to fire up. Driving back to the ‘Ville, we separated so I could go pick up dinner, and I left it running while I ran inside. When the guy ran my ATM card—you guessed it—declined. The BoA lady had, indeed, cancelled my primary card. I made like I was going to run home and get cash, but the proprietor, who couldn’t have been nicer, told me to take the food and come back to pay when I could. So I will endorse Cafe Kebab on Frederick Road not only because their food is delicious, but because the owners are exceptionally nice people.
Returning home, Jen had food ready for Finn, and we all devoured our dinner a full hour past our usual schedule. I ran out to pay for our meal, and then hurried back to help Jen give Finn a bath (she had played outside for a good portion of the day, and thus was covered in sunblock). After putting her to bed, I had 15 minutes for my next mission:
- Pull the good battery from the Jeep, which was parked across the street.
- Drop the new battery in the Saturn.
- Move the Saturn out of the driveway.
- Drop the Jeep battery in the Scout.
- Pull the Scout into the garage.
- Pull the Saturn into the driveway.
- Put the bad battery on the charger for one more test.
Thankfully, I made it inside just before the first commercial break of LOST. Which kicked ass, by the way.
Jen also informed me I’m not allowed to drive the CR-V, because she’s afraid I’m going to fuck it up somehow. Which, after all of this mechanical drama, is probably true.
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Last night before LOST, I was in the garage with the Scout, tightening everything up, mixing new coolant, adding it to the radiator, pumping up the tires on my bike, and making sure everything felt solid. My plan was to rise before school really got started in order to avoid getting stuck in the lights on Frederick Road, and I missed all but the last one. She fired right up, turned over smoothly, and never showed signs of distress, which was a huge relief.
This afternoon, the word from the mechanic is that a pressure test shows the water pump itself is leaking, as well as the gasket at the water filler neck (no surprise there, seeing as we had to pull it off to get the water pump out). So, barring any supply catastrophe with the gasketry, I may get it back by the end of the week—just in time for another cold snap.
LOST was relatively good last night; even if it wasn’t as well-written as last week’s. I liked the Hugo storyline, and it was cool to see Libby again. They’re still playing chess with the characters, but things feel like they’re starting to come to a head of steam.
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We here at the Lockardugan compound like to pack a lot of stuff in on the weekends. It’s not unusual to have a couple of trips planned, some kind of home project involving gas-powerd or rented machinery, at least one dinner with friends, a grocery run, and visitors to the house—which then requires a housecleaning—all packed into two days’ time. This past weekend was no exception, and because we had Grandma and Aunt R. coming in from out of town, we decided to celebrate by spending Friday getting our taxes done!
For most people, this yearly routine simply requires an hour with a copy of TurboTax and a cold beer, but because at least one of us has always been self-employed, we (wisely) seek professional help. This year I was a little nervous based on my spreadsheets, but it turned out that we’re in pretty decent shape, which is a huge relief. Huge enough, in fact, that we can finally exhale and get a few things done around here, including some preliminary work on the side porch.
In the meantime, we had a fantastic visit with aforementioned family. Finn was a little unsure at first but warmed right up to Grandma, who has been twitching for some baby time since we left her driveway in December, and she showed off her talking, running, reading, and stairclimbing skills all weekend.
And while Aunt R. was here, I took the opportunity to shanghai her into helping us till the garden—lifting a rented tiller is a two-person job, but not for two people and a toddler—move compost, and pull a water pump from the Scout. She was good-natured about getting mud and antifreeze and crud from the floor of the garage on her jeans, and so we made sure to reward with a diner of shish kebab and homemade blueberry pie. Inside, Grandma got some long awaited hours of one-on-one Finley time, and at the end of the day I don’t know who went to sleep tireder.
Sunday we bid goodbye to the family and took the girl off to her swimming lesson, and to her credit she braved the cold water very well. So well, in fact, that she didn’t cry once! She enjoyed splashing, swimming, floating on her back, and even having her head dunked several times underwater. When we got home she was so whupped she slept for three and a half hours, allowing us to get some work done for a friend.
I always get bummed out when family leaves town. At one point Sunday afternoon, I asked Jen if it would be ok for me to go wake up Finn just to give her a hug, but we quickly agreed that might be a bad idea.
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Last week, Mr. Scout texted me about playing hooky sometime in the near future to hit the junkyard. As it turned out, I had an office holiday this Friday, he was on this side of the river, the sun was out, and Mama had Finn with her for the majority of the day. So we made the best of things.
Our wishlist was long, but one of my top priorities was to find a new taillight for the Slattern, which had been suffering from a bashed lens since last summer. Last fall, I couldn’t find a donor Saturn of compatible vintage for love or money over several visits, but we stumbled upon three candidates almost as soon as we walked in the yard. Two twists of a star-head screwdriver, one unplugged socket, and I had an unblemished replacement in my hands. Score!
We were also looking for Scout-related stuff, including replacement shoulder belts that could be retrofitted, or a decent set of rearview mirrors.
Meanwhile, picking over the lot from one side to the other, we found all kinds of humor, intentional and unintentional.
I’m a sucker for old, rust-prone, unusual vehicles, so whenever I see something interesting, I stop and shoot pictures.
This Le Car looked almost pristine, even as it sat up to its axles in muddy water. I tried to find a way to pull the single rearview mirror off the door, but I was foiled by strange French engineering and a fear of wet socks.
Next to it sat one of three British survivors in the yard, a rusting heap of an MG. The wooden wheel had already been pulled, as well as the hood (that’s bonnet to you, mate) but the rest of the car looked pretty clean. I was tempted to pull the rest of the chrome badges off, but the entire panel felt like it was going to come with them, so I left it all in place.
Returning home, we lunched on some burgers and then set to work checking out Peer Pressure. We pulled the thermostat and tested it out in boiling water; the valve opened exactly as it should have. So we got to work pulling the radiator out completely. This is a job we’ve both had experience with before, so this time we knew what we were doing (mostly), and had it out within about 20 min. We drained the tank, made short work of each of the mounting bolts, struggled to pull the lower hose off, peeled back the fan shroud, and slid it upwards and out of the truck as pretty as you please. Over a couple of pails, we flushed out the interior and waited until the water ran clear, then flipped it over and hosed out the bottom. Once that was done, we threw it back in, tightened everything back up, swapped the battery in from the Jeep (the Scout battery was dead, dammit) and fired her up.
I’m happy to say she idled for 20 minutes and the needle stayed where it’s pictured above—at the far left of the gauge. Mr. Scout had to leave, so I bid him farewell and then took the beast out on the road for some short mileage, figuring if she broke down I’d be close to home. I had her on the road for about ten minutes and didn’t see the needle budge an inch, at speed or sitting in traffic. I’m going to do some more short-distance test runs in the next week, but if she makes it through those, I’m calling her fixed!
Once again, and as always, thanks go to Mr. Scout, without whose help I’d still be working on the first bolt.
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Over the course of successive nights I’ve added old weblog posts up to the middle of September 2004, which doesn’t sound like much on the surface, but represents hours of repetitive labor. What I’ve had to do for each post is copy the raw HTML from my old handwritten files, strip out any broken links, change the creation date, upload and relink any image files (which I kept locally in that month’s subfolder), and add the relevant Category tag(s). See why I haven’t done this in the past? WordPress, at least, is quicker than Movable Type, which would have taken eons.
I’m thinking there has to be a better way of doing this, so I’m going to look into some kind of search-and-replace to build an XML file in a format that WordPress likes, and use that to import three years’ worth of entries in one swoop. The images will be a complicating factor, of course. Another thing I’d like to do is find a way to have WordPress list all of the entries for a particular month on one page, as opposed to the five-excerpt list it picks up from the homepage template. I haven’t had a whole lot of time to devote to the new weblog structure other than fooling with the base CSS, but I’m sure there’s an easy way to get it working.
In other news, I’ve got a tentative plan with Mr. Scout to go lookin’ through the local junkyard on Friday for a Saturn taillight, as well as yanking the radiator out of Peer Pressure to flush it out. I’m going to be up in the morning extra-early to get a jumpstart on things, because the weather is getting warmer and I’d really like to be driving the Scout again.
LOST was pretty good last night, if not a little sparse on the backend character development. I agree with the Onion review: we didn’t learn much, and there wasn’t a whole lot of resolution in the flash-sideways like there has been for other characters. I guess that’s a flaw in the writers’ attempt to jam two (criminally underutilized and potentially interesting) characters into one episode. And Jen guessed the identity of “the Package” right away.
Speaking of Lost and packages, here’s an exhaustive list of Dharma initiative food labels for everything in your pantry. enjoy!
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So I have to back up to last Thursday and describe my birthday, which was very low-key and enjoyable. Mama woke me by bringing Finn in to lay on my chest, and she nestled up to my chin for a few minutes before we all got up for breakfast.
After work, Mr. Scout and I went to peek at a diesel Scout over in Lauraville, after being tipped off by the Toddfather. The truck was pretty beat, but the running gear was nice, and after I took it for a spin around the block (unintentionally winding up out on Harford Road in a balky diesel with sketchy brakes) we advised the seller on some pricing adjustments for parts he didn’t know he had.
Then, taking advantage of our proximity to The Big Bad Wolf, we ordered some tasty barbecue and brought it home to share with the family. After I helped put a sleepy girl to bed, we dug into dinner and discussed the developments on LOST before slicing into some delicious homemade blueberry pie. Mr. Scout surprised me with three boxes of Al’s Liner, an off-the-shelf bedliner product that’s hundreds of dollars cheaper than Herculiner or Line-X. Thanks guys!
Saturday morning we had Finn’s swimming lesson, which went a little less smoothly than weeks past. Mama was in the pool for the first time with us, and I think Finn saw that as an opportunity to complain and fuss for attention instead of focusing on having fun and relaxing. I felt awful for Jen because she wanted to be in the water with Finn, but I don’t think that’s going to happen next week.
After we got back, the girl went down for a nap and we got to work out in the yard, taking advantage of 70° and sunshine to clean up what four months of frozen inattention have left us. We cleaned up and pruned back the grape arbor, raked about a million leaves, and dumped 32 cubic yards of mulch on the front hedge. I chopped vine and hauled away dead growth around the stump in the rear of the yard while Jen cleaned out several flowerbeds and made a place for the daffodils to breathe. I also moved the final vestigal hedge from the backyard up to the front; here’s to hoping it will root as well as the two I put in last year did. In the evening, after having some grilled steak and potatoes and putting the girl to bed, we watched The Hurt Locker, which was as good, and as intense, as everyone said it was.
Sunday was full of sunshine, so we kept at the yard. More mulch, more raking, bagging leaves, and cleaning beds. I took a break at noon to go to a free class at Jen’s yoga studio, thinking that the stretching might help my shoulder problems (which have been getting slowly better). I was nervous, and as the class started it seemed to me like I was the only one who was unfamiliar with the poses, but I hung in there and made it through. The only thing I couldn’t do was one of the final sitting poses because my hamstrings were so tightly wound. I have to admit, I felt a little silly being one of only three men in the class, but I felt much better after one of the other guys fell asleep during the final relaxation period and began snoring loudly, prompting snorts of laughter from the rest of us.
(compare and contrast):
On my return, we continued cleaning the yard, getting the vegetable garden organized, and turning the mulch in each of the three piles. The humus in the end pile was ready to go, and after the three of us removed the roots, bark, and other large items, we wound up with a good-sized pile of rich, black soil to add to the garden. (Finn dove right into the pile, covering the front of her shirt and pants with dirt. I think we have a future gardener on our hands). Next we’ll pick up some manure and then till the whole thing up to get it ready for planting. After dinner and some books, Mama and I put Finn to bed and enjoyed a Berger’s cookie in front of The Order of the Phoenix. Then we laid down tired, happy, and content after a productive weekend together.
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