Today I took Diane’s little convertible to Les Schwab for some new shoes. The ones it had were mismatched, and of a brand that is no longer manufactured, a bad sign for safety on the highway. So, I bit the bullet, wanting to keep my bride from participating in a thrilling game of bumper cars on Highway 30, and got her the best tires old Les sold. Another reason I felt the need to replace them is because it seems I’m the one who drives it the most. I still have the ’96 Subaru, but it’s going to hit the auction block today so it’s no longer a factor. Also, Diane told me I could fix the old truck. That’s major. I’ve probably shared all that before but this time it’s true.
After getting the tires installed I went about resurrecting the fog lights. The multi-function switch I ordered from eBay showed up yesterday, but I didn’t put it in until today because I had to get a new fuse to replace the one that wasn’t there. I knew the fogs lights worked because I did some fuse swappo-change-o to confirm using the one from the seat heater circuit.
Once the new switch was installed, the fog lights worked just great, after I got the correct size fuse. The first ones I bought were from NAPA and were too big because I simply failed to realize that, since it was a little car, it needed mini-blade fuses. The switch worked just great, but the turn signals didn’t. There was just nothing there. No little clicky sound or blinking lights on the dash-board. Nothing. So, I took the cowling off, which I shouldn’t have installed until I had confirmed that everything worked, and connected the old switch and confirmed that the blinky lights really worked. During this advanced troubleshooting sequence I felt the clicky part working under my hand leading me to the conclusion that the new switch didn’t come with the blinky relay. After a short pause, during which I surmised that this wasn’t unusual, I disconnected the old switch, removed the relay and installed it on the new switch, and connected it and confirmed that it worked just fine. Another successful day of “fixing” something. Then I tightened all the screws I’d removed, and called it good when I couldn’t find anything left over from the dismantling.
At that point I was in a light fixing frame of mind so I fired up the old motor home to see what didn’t work. I was gratified to discover that all the necessary lights work OK but some of the clearance lights don’t. I’m not worried about those, however, so just let them be.
While I was walking around the rig, with the engine running, I gave the old generator another chance to start, but it wouldn’t. It has a fuel problem like in it isn’t getting any. That’s a task for another day. If I need to run it for some reason, I’ll solve it.
A few days ago, after sharing a Subway sandwich at Wal*Mart, Diane and I spent a considerable amount of time trying to decide what kind of rubber, water-proof, floor mats to get for her PT. They have a large selection ranging from about $30 to $10. We settled on the cheap-o version which turned out to be rather prophetic since Diane lost them on the highway somewhere on her way to Bunco. You see, I’d placed them on top of the vehicle whilst emptying all the other stuff we purchased, and she didn’t see them when she jumped in and tore out of the driveway like that guy Mario. We can only surmise that she didn’t hit critical liftoff speed for the floor mats until she made the turn onto Pittsburgh Road. Now they are gone forever. We took solace in knowing we only lost the $10 version and that it could have been worse. She, of course, blames me for leaving them on the car, and I blame her for not seeing them laying there when she got in the car. I blamed her, of course, not taking into account that she’s much shorter in person and probably just couldn’t see them; and it was dark. So, ultimate, like normal, I must assume responsibility.
Now it’s time to go get some lunch somewhere to celebrate because I did all of the above without hurting myself even one time.