Category Archives: Mechanical Stuff

Winter Golf in Oregon

Posted on by

It was a beautiful day in the neighbor hood today. So good, in fact, that my friend JP deemed it worthy of losing a few balls on the golf course. That venture began right around 10 am. Here we are ready to tee off on #1. That’s JP on the left.

The first hole wasn’t too bad once we got past the first ditch. That’s where balls land and the ground is so saturated that the balls just bury themselves, never to be found again. Hole #2, below, is fairly flat and doesn’t drain well at all so this is what we had to contend with. Fortunately, the tee box is to the left of the little lakes and neither of us landed in the water.

Then, on #3, things got nasty. From here on to the end it was difficult to find firm ground for the cart and we wound up pushing it more than riding in it, I think.

So, we had the best of both worlds: golfing and 4-wheeling in the mud. I took home proof for Diane.

The end result was that we had a lot of fun because we didn’t seriously keep score. It’s hard to be serious when you actually make a good drive that lands in the fairway, but when you get to the spot, the ball just isn’t there. The only thing you get from searching for it is muddy shoes. Thank goodness they’re waterproof.

After leaving the golf course, I stopped to talk with Cousin Don for a while. I knew he was home because he had the shop door rolled up. He was sitting in the middle, eating his lunch, feet propped up on one of the many large tools he has in his shop. The tools are mostly related to the construction, upkeep, and resurrection of race cars. I pulled up a chair to rest my weary bones next to the absolutely prettiest engine I’ve ever seen. It’s brand new and doesn’t have a speck of dirt on it. Yet. Seems a shame to put it in a race car that’s more than likely to get smacked around. But, that’s what he’s done most of his life. I count my blessings whenever I get in a mechanical fix because Don has all the answers and replacement parts.

When I got home I found Diane hard at work cleaning the house. That’s what she does when I go out and play, probably because I’m not in the way. She stopped long enough for lunch (crab louies), then gat back at it while I went outside and started the old truck. I haven’t done that in a couple of months so was pleased when it started right up after cranking it and pumping the gas pedal for about thirty seconds. It’s a brute to start when the engine is cold, and runs like a top once it’s warmed up.

Satisfied that the engine still ran, I shut it down and got busy picking up debris from the front yard. Most of it was residue from one of the rhododendrons that Ziva had fun with when we had snow worth playing in. She loves to chase sticks and she especially likes rhododendrons because their branches snap in half really easy. Consequently, she shattered bits and pieces of it all over the place. It was work, made me sweaty, but I got it picked up and hauled to the burn pile.

Now it’s time for me to scrape the rest of the dirt from my torso so I can sit in a nice chair and get ready to watch Oregon tussle with Calf in one of the Pac-12 semi-final games. Should be a good game.

See you tomorrow.

Wrenches, Grease, and a Blond Mechanic

Posted on by

Lydia has a 2005 GMC Envoy that has a couple hundred thousand miles on it and it all the sudden started running a little rough and the engine would die while she was waiting in the Dutch Bros drive-thru.  She said it also dies in the Burgerville drive-thru but that’s not as critical as a failure at Dutch Bros. This has been going on for some time and I’ve encouraged her to bring it to our house so I could help her change the spark plugs, as a start, in an effort to resolve it’s issues. Today she found some time in her busy schedule to drive it up the hill with her dad, Daniel, so we could get busy.

The first order of business was to remove Diane’s truck from the garage so Lydia could insert the nose of the GMC to get it out of the rain. It was one of ‘those’ days here. Spotty rain with an occasional flake of snow, and some sunshine. Pretty typical prelude to spring in our neck of the woods.

Once the hood was up we spent some time looking at the engine trying to figure out where the spark plugs lived on the engine. They weren’t very evident no matter how hard, or long we stared at it. Finally we gave up and came into the house and looked for help on the internet. It turns out that the engine is an in-line 6 cylinder, not the V-6 I presumed, which accounted for the reason I couldn’t find the spark plugs on the side of the engine. Funny thing. All the spark plugs reside on the top of the engine which would make one think they would be easy to see and remove. But, this is no ordinary engine. You see, each spark plug has it’s very own Ignition Coil that sits on top of the spark plug so there are no wires running from a distributor like a normal engine. Very interesting.

After watching a YouTube thing about how to remove the coil to access the plug, we went back to the garage. At this point in time Lydia had figured out that she was going to be doing all the work so I gave her a pair of coveralls that Jack gave me that I can no longer wear. They shrunk, it seems. But, the fit Lydia pretty good.

I got my tool kit out and we (Lydia) went to work taking things off the engine to gain access to the coil.

img_1984

Although Lydia is a girly girl, she’s definitely not afraid to get dirty and she loves to learn new things. She also figures things out very quickly. She dove right in and dismantled all the necessary ‘things’ and swapped out the plugs like she’s done it a hundred times. She only needed to be reminded that removing bolts you turn counter-clockwise.

The number 6 cylinder was up under the dash-board and needed a stretch to get to the necessary bolts and things. She tried standing on a stool but that didn’t work well so she just stretched as far as she could and it turned out to be just the right amount to gain access to #6.

img_1975

Here’s the door I made for under the Walter’s house the other day. I told you about it, but didn’t have the photo. Just found it.

img_1954

Finally, all the plugs, which cost about $30 at O’Reilly’s, were installed and Lydia fired up the engine. It ran, but it was still rough which means that at least one of the ignition coils is bad. We’re hoping it’s only one because those things cost around $40 each. Lydia is going to get that info from her friend, Justin, who just happens to have recently extracted failure codes from the Envoy. Lydia thinks Justin may have mentioned that #1 and/or #6 were bad, but she couldn’t remember.

Without that info, and the fact that it was getting dark, we called it a day and got cleaned up. I offered her rubber gloves but she declined.

img_1985

Then she and Daniel headed home. Armed with the proper knowledge I know she’ll get it fixed without any more professional supervision from me and the internet.

Here’s a plate of nachos I ate the other day that I forgot to share. They were quite tasty but I should have held off on a few of the onions.

img_1955

That pretty much ended the day for us except for the old iMac that I was going to donate to our church. It’s back on the Man Room floor running like a top, but it wouldn’t even power up when plugged in at church. I found that a mystery that must be solved tomorrow. In the mean time, I loaded some software back on it so it will be useful for the Church Ladies. Specifically, Jeannie, our Treasurer. She needs something reliable. What she currently uses is an old Windows XP computer loaded with QuickBooks Pro. Sadly, it’s Windows only software so I can’t transfer it. But, I found some interesting free Accounting software, and some Excel spreadsheet templates that may serve the purpose. We’ll see about that.

Jeannie grew up in Modesto, California and went to High School with George Lucas. As far as I know, George is not related to our friend Larry although they have the same last name.

While working in the garage Ziva started sorting the contents of my garbage can and was a bit upset when I told her it was only Sunday night and the garbage doesn’t go to the street until Monday night.

img_1986

Since she couldn’t do the garbage, she took a nap.

img_1956

Actually, that photo is from yesterday when we were watching TV. Ziva watches TV like my brother Jim.

DSC_3529

And this one is just for fun …

944543_374496335994911_1894194560_n

I forgot to mention that Diane drove me and Jean, her Mom, to Longview after church today where I ate a Senior plate of shrimp & fries as well as nine pieces of chicken, a salad, and an ice cream cone. I didn’t eat as much as I normally do because I’m on a diet.

Cheers

Golf, Thermostats, and the Old Truck,

Posted on by

I had to go golfing again yesterday because I said I would. Diane thinks it’s OK that I golf a lot. I suspect she think by going more often I’ll get better at it. Boy do I have a surprise for her. Unlike most other sports, where that’s true, golf has its own rules when it comes to getting better. One day it’s good, the next day it’s bad. So it goes. The up side of golfing is that I generally get to drive the cart. That’s fun.

Daniel’s PT Cruiser started overheating on him so he brought it over to see if I could figure out why. After looking under the hood for a little while I decided that the thermostat had given up and crossed the bar. For those of you unfamiliar with crossing the bar, it’s a Navy term for “died”. When a friend passes, they’ve crossed the bar. I suppose that could be taken in a couple of ways because of the nature of sailors, like, it could be a statement that a sailor had crossed the bar when he was thrown over one during a fight in a foreign port. You know how those sailors drink, right? Well, you at least know how people THINK those sailors drink. Most commonly, however, crossing the bar simply refers to the point a ship is on its own after leaving port and the harbor pilot departs. Still, it’s a nice, symbolic, mental image for us old guys to consider as we progress toward the end of our lives. “Crossing the Bar” is also a poem.

Back to the PT …

Since neither Daniel nor I had ever changed the thermostat in a PT Cruiser, it was a journey of discovery for both of us. I have a perfectly good service manual in a readily accessible folder on my computer, but referring to it would have removed the mystery of our journey. Instead, we just studied the situation and started taking bolts off things to gain access to what we both determined to be the problem area. Turns out, it’s a complicated process because the turbo engine we were working on was most certainly built by very small people with very small hands. Consequently, gaining access to some bolts whose removal were critical to our endeavor, was problematic and resulted in the loss, forever, of two of them. Each of us lost one, and listened intently as they clattered their way into the tangle of wires and tubes, never to reach the ground. This, of course, required a trip to ACE for replacements. Thankfully, we were had retained possession of a nut of the right size that enabled Daniel to procure the necessary replacements. In the end, Daniel was able to get all the bolts back into place using a more careful approach, knowing that one little slip meant another trip to ACE as soon as all the replacement bolts and nuts were lost. Fortunately, none were lost. One of these days those lost bolts will secure their freedom on the highway and bounce along until they come to rest amidst the rocks and debris near the guard rail somewhere along Highway 30. A hitchhiker may find them and know exactly what they are for but more likely they will sit there for years, rusting, until finally they are once again one with the universe. Happens all the time.

During interludes while Daniel was shopping for parts, I worked on the Old Truck, replacing spark plug wires. I decided to do that when the engine started sounding a lot like a John Deere tractor. It was running on 6 or 7 cylinders because one wire was parted at the spark plug, and another was partially burned through as it rested peacefully on the incredibly hot exhaust manifold. It was time. Part of the process of preparing the wires was to attach the spark plug ends after making sure they were the right length. I didn’t both with cutting them because I didn’t want to. I just took one off, selected a new one that was close to the proper length, then put it all together. As a result, some wires are a bit long for the plug to which they are attached, but I remedied that by winding them around tubes and hoses in the engine compartment. None of them will be allowed to touch the exhaust manifold. They should last a long time. Cousin Don provided me with a handy tool to properly crimp the little metal clips on the wires and I’m thankful for that. Don is my favorite mechanic. He knows everything and has all the tools.

Diane told me there’s a cruise in at the Elks Club today. I might drive the old truck out there just for fun and look at all the nice cars.

Oh ya! Diane’s been bugging me for years about painting it so I began that process a few days ago when I came across an assortment of rattle cans in the basement. I decided to use what I have and see how it works out. The first can only lasted to cover the left front fender. It’s OSHA yellow, meant for hard hats, I believe. I have some green and red that I will try on other parts as time permits unless Diane hides them from me, or throws them away.

What do you think?IMG_0454

Yeah, I know. It needs another coat and I got some paint on the chrome, but it will come right off with the right chemicals. While I’m at it I may as well put the windshield wipers back on it so I can drive it in the rain, and maybe put the right side mirror back together – it fell apart and the mirror part is laying on the dash. When I want to use it, I just hold it and look behind me.

It’s only a little after 9 am and I hear Diane tiptoeing around so guess it’s time to get productive. First thing up is to print the church bulletin and the church’s August newsletter. That’s my job.

Later

Spark Plugs & Mixers

Posted on by

PT Cruiser Turbo 2.4L mechanic – Engine light came on after the engine sputtered a couple of times. After a bit of internet searching I discovered that PTs have the ability to display error codes on the trip meter. There was only one (P0300) for multiple misfires. So, I got new plugs and wires and swapped them out. Two of the old plugs were so tight I’m guessing that whoever installed them used a torque wrench. The plug gap on all of them was worn beyond a .070 gap, much larger than the recommended .040. Total cost $45, mainly because I bought expensive plugs.

Once the parts were installed I have to discover how to clear the error code. That turned out to be very simple … just had to disconnect the battery for a little while and let the juice drain from the system.

Getting the PT back on-line was imperative because we have plans to drag it behind the old Winnebago to Ocean Shores, WA next weekend, then south to Cape Lookout State Park in Oregon for the following week. Ocean Shores will be fun because it’s the Rod Run To The End Of The World weekend sponsored by the Beach Barons.

As a way to test out the Winnebago, we drove it to church, together, to pick up some tables to use for Cedric’s graduation party last Saturday. It drove really nice and Diane only fainted once when we were on the back roads. She doesn’t like back roads because they’re narrow and she’s convinced I’m going to run the rig into a ditch. Thankfully, most of our planned trips will be on major roads so she will be able to relax a little. Regarding the reference above that we went together … that’s significant because until this point in time we’ve never traveled together because we had no way to tow a vehicle. So, Diane drove the car and I drove the motor home. Now we have a tow dolly for the PT so we can enjoy each others’ company during the trip.

Here’s what we’ll look like going down the road … IMG_1740

A few weeks ago Diane bought a Kitchen Aid Pro 6 mixer at an auction for $200. That’s a real deal for a $400-$500 unit, so I thought she did real good. When she got it home I plugged it in and discovered why it was sold. I worked, but it made a horrible grinding noise. So, I figured out how to dismantle the thing and discovered a couple of gears were destroyed. Another trip to the internet revealed many how-to videos of how to replace those specific gears and most of the videos were by women.

Having this information in hand, and knowing it was a simple process, all I had to do was find a source for the gears, which I did more quickly than I thought I would, and had them on the way lickity split.

While I waited for them to arrive, I removed all the old grease surrounding the remaining gears, and cleaned up all the surfaces to ensure no ground up gear pieces could find a way to destroy any of the other gears. When the parts arrived it was a simple matter of putting it all back together, and replacing the grease. I cheated a little here because I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to pay $15 for a small container of OEM grease. Instead, I just used what I had in my grease gun and called it good.

Once it was all back together it worked good as new. Now Diane and mix stuff twice as good as she could on the old mixer that went nuts, flipped itself on the floor and kind wrecked itself in general. It was a Kitchen Aid, too, but the smaller version.

I may have done some other stuff, but don’t remember what it might be. So, guess I’m done here.

Happy Labor Day – Stay Safe

The Garage Door, My iPhone 6, My Glasses, & The Garbage

Posted on by

Yesterday afternoon I only had two things to remember; put the garbage can, and the recycle can at the street. Technically, I suppose that’s only one thing to remember. Also, technically, neither of them are cans, but it doesn’t sound right if you call them ‘plastics’, ya know? So, they’re cans.

I knew right away I’d missed the garbage man when I frantically rolled the can to the street when I woke at 0710 because the neighbors garbage can lid was upside down, the garbage man’s way of saying, “I was here.” Still, I left it at the street with the plan of hauling it back to the house later in the day, between rain storms. I did get the recycle out on time, so that was good. Still, I got into a minor bit of trouble when I told Diane about my failure.

Technically it was the dogs fault because neither of them woke me at 0530 like normal. Had they done so, I’m sure I could have beat the garbage man to the street. I’ll have to talk with them about that and reinforce it with a piece of cheese.

There are a couple of other reasons I may have failed to remember those important chores that are worthy of mention. First, my iPhone 6 arrived yesterday and it was mandatory that I configure it and test all the functions I’ve been studying for the past 1.5 months. Second, my new glasses arrived from the VA facility that makes them, somewhere in Idaho. Boise, I think. There’s a little difference in the prescription so there was an adjustment period getting used to them. I hardly ran in to anything so it was a successful transition. The main problem is that they have transition lenses that require me to wobble my head around to focus on things because the magic little focus spots are a little off from my old ones.I got gold frames, which Diane doesn’t like on me, so I envision a trip to Costco in the near future to rectify that fashion failure on my part. I only chose them because I liked the nose cushion. It’s comfy.

My new iPhone arrived while I was working on the other garage door. We have two of them. Diane’s has an automatic opener and mine is manual. Everyone should be very proud of me for taking the phone to my desk where I left it, all wrapped up, then went back to work on the door. My task was to attach a new seal to the bottom of the door. It’s kind of a problem because I got the kind that has an extruded aluminum bracket into which one must slide the seal after the bracket is mounted to the bottom of the door. Sounds easy, right. Well, I’m here to tell you it’s far from that. I did Diane’s garage door on Saturday and it about crippled my right hand all over again. The problem is that the rubber part arrives flat and must be formed into a “U” as it’s slid into the bracket channels and this covers the screws quite nicely. Looks good. But, the door must be completely open so the bottom of the door is located at the curve where the door goes horizontal so the bottom is not blocked by the frame in which the door rollers roll. Got it? Even then I had to undo the bottom roller on one side in order to clear the roller frame thing. With a little WD-40 and lots of effort I managed to push, yes, push, the rubber seal across the entire 10 foot span of the door. It was brutal and my right hand wasn’t working very well when I finished, but I got it done, by golly!

So, yesterday I figured I’d make things easier by propping the door open, about chest high, then remove the bottom rollers from BOTH sides thereby allowing me to swing the bottom panel of the door into the garage where I could easily insert the rubber seal. I tied off the bottom rollers to heavy things I found on the garage floor to keep the door spring from coiling up and beating holes in the ceiling after being ripped from my grasp. On one side I used a trailer hitch and the other side had a propane tank attached.

Everything was going nicely until I took the last screw out of the second roller bracket. At that exact moment I realized the error of my thinking as the door pushed the wood clamp I’d used to hold the door up aside as if it wasn’t there and slammed with a resounding crash to the floor. I’m sure it shook houses on both sides of us. On the way down it hit my sprained left wrist which hurt a bit, but I wasn’t concerned about that right then. I was waiting for the pain to race up my left from my left foot that I thought might be trapped under the door, but it never happened. Looking down I was relieved to see that my foot was actually OK.

Right then Diane appeared in the door to the house and calmly asked if I was OK. Having already assessed myself for possible crippling injuries, I assured her that I actually was OK. Then, just to get it out of the way, I told her what had happened, she nodded knowingly, and retreated back into the house after suggesting that I call Jeff for help.

I eventually did call Jeff, after re-learning that a 10 foot wide wood garage door that isn’t hooked to its spring weighs about a ton and a half, far beyond my limited lifting abilities. Once Jeff got here we managed, after a bit of testing, to get the door open and propped up so we could insert the rubber seal and put it all back together. However, noticing a small dent in one of the channels, into which the rubber gasket would slide, closer inspection revealed that nothing was going to slide through it. Ever. The door landed on some “things” that slammed those grooves shut tight in a number of places to the point where I knew the only way to make it neat was to get a new rubber gasket bracket. If I’d been thinking properly I would have reattached the bottom rollers, that are attached to the big spring, but I wasn’t so we didn’t. Instead, we lowered the door to the floor, gently, where it will reside until the new brackets arrive from wherever they’re made.

Last night Diane went to play bunco with her friends so I was left along with strict instructions to not do anything that involved lifting heavy things, or plugging anything into a wall socket. That pretty much limited me to my new iPhone 6 which I opened and got it all set up for use. I worked on the puzzle we have living on a table, too. The pieces are very light so there was no danger of violating the lifting restriction.

Now it’s Tuesday and I’m home alone again because Diane is working today. She didn’t leave me any instructions so I’m a little bit concerned about how I should conduct myself until her return. I’ll figure something out. It’d not raining very hard so maybe I’ll just go out and mow the yard.

Hope you all are doing well.

Mornings, Golf, Dead Clams, Stumps, & Mowing

Posted on by

This morning Ozzie woke me up at 0530, a fairly certain indicator that we need blackout blinds for our bedroom. It’s getting light earlier and earlier and it’s pretty obvious that’s what gets him going. I learned a couple of days ago that Diane has been playing possum in the morning because Ozzie tries to wake her up first by walking up and down her body. She tuffs it out, however, knowing I’ll eventually get up and let him outside. Then she goes back to sleep for 3-4 hours. Tomorrow I’m going to try that and see what happens.

I slept on the couch until 0830, when Diane got up. She said Doug had called about golfing this morning so I went out and we teed off at 0945. I took Cedric’s Ping driver to see how well it worked, just for fun. I’ve never hit anything with a Ping club because I’ve never been in close proximity to one of them. Turns out it really does make a “ping” sound when you hit the ball just right. That’s not something I did with consistency, but I have to admit I did manage to whack a few tremendous drives. Straight, and everything. Very un-Jerrie-like.

After a fun, but bad round of golf with Junior and Doug, we went to Scappoose for lunch at Fultano’s Pizza joint. I knew Diane was going to be in Scappoose because she told me. That meant she would be at Goodwill, about 300 feet from Fultano’s so I couldn’t very well go to lunch there without alerting her. I’d planned to do that, anyway, but forgot my phone. So, I borrowed Junior’s to make the call. She agreed, of course. Who wouldn’t? We ate pizza and salad, and visited.

On the way home I stopped by Junior’s place to get some fresh dead clams so I could deliver them to Jack & Wynette. He’s always doing that because they really like dead clams. I was happy to do it for him because he was tired. Also, the story about how he got those clams was pretty exciting according to Doug. He told me that while hunting the tell-tale clam signs on the beach, Junior had to get closer to the ground. Too close, it turns out, because he was tumbled by a rogue wave. If he hadn’t been broadsided, the outcome may have been a little better, but he was. Doug said Junior rolled around in the water for a while, embarrassing him so he had to finally go get him and move him to higher ground. Doug said it wasn’t easy because Junior’s boots were full of water and he was hard to drag up the beach. But, he did it, and he salvaged the clams Junior had painstakingly gathered. That was the important part. So, sharing them with J & W has more meaning because Junior put his life at risk to capture some poor unassuming clams, trying to make a living in the sand. Now they will never see their babies again. If they had babies. Maybe they didn’t.

After visiting with J & W for a while I went home to dig out more stumps. It’s a grueling job, but it had to be done. So, I donned a new set of dirty clothes and went out to getter done.

The chore began in a normal manner but it was terribly tiring. Made me breath hard, like a pretty girl does, or going up the stairs. And I rid myself of a lot of excess sweat. Because of my tendency sweat at the sight of a pretty girl, I’m not allowed to watch any of those Victoria’s Secret commercials, or the Blazer dancers. Any dancers, actually. Especially those nearly naked ones on Dancing With The Stars. It’s a terrible affliction. Honest, it is.

When the sweat ran out, I had to find a better way to eliminate the stumps and decided to use the truck to pull them out. I found the towing strap in the garage, hooked it to the bumper hitch, wound it around a stump and wallah! Out it came, simple as could be, making me wonder why I didn’t think of that before. Such a simple solution, until the truck ran out of gas. I found a couple of gallons in a can in the garage, dumped it in the truck … and the battery was dead. It wouldn’t start. Being a believer in Karma, I took that as an obvious sign that it was time to quit.

So, I did. I quit, went out back and mowed the yard. That went fairly quickly because I didn’t bag it. I had to get it mowed because it’s going to rain tomorrow and I was prevented from mowing it completely because of events a few days ago. Don’t remember what events those were, but they kept me from mowing.

Once I was clean enough to enter the living room, we watched the new “24” show.

Jack’s back!

Gardening, Mechanic-ing, and Lumberjacking

Posted on by

Yesterday I was a mechanic and a landscape artist. The landscape part was fairly straight forward and didn’t provide anything new for me in the way of knowledge. It was simply a matter of removing most of the green growing things along the west side of our garage. There were challenges, however, because this form of artistry hasn’t been done in that location, to the degree I attained yesterday, since we took up residency. I took out pretty much everything except the group of flowers, the name of which I can’t remember, the baby’s breath, and the Andromeda bush. I have to admit that I did extract a great deal of Baby’s Breath before determining it wasn’t really a weed. During this process I discovered that Baby’s Breath erupts from the ground from one really long horizontal root. Really interesting. Most of the other stuff was just grass, dandelions, and interesting curly cue corms that produce a lot of roots, nice leaves and pretty flowers. The corms themselves look a little like flying saucers with tentacles. I saved all the ones I pulled up so Diane can plant them wherever she wants. The corms are the consistency of potatoes. Maybe we can eat them. Might have to try that.

Before playing gardener, I played mechanic and I learned two things that will come in handy in my future life, I’m sure. This knowledge was imparted while working on the ’73 Winnebago. The goal for that was to make it run so it could be moved out of the way of today’s lumberjack activities, the details of which will be forthcoming a little later.

The first thing I discovered, after installing batteries into the RV, was that the 12V system powering the domestic lights. There wasn’t, however, power to the 12V system that made the engine run. No ignition, no running lights, no headlights, tail lights, things like that. So, it became a troubleshooting evolution to determine why. After three trips under the rig, in the vicinity of the battery tray,  I emerged each time a little more wise about the way electricity works in a Winnebago, and that the position of the driver’s oversize rearview mirror doesn’t move, even when you bang your head into it. I discovered the mirror thing three times, on the exact same spot on the right side of my forehead. That’s how I discovered it doesn’t move. If it did, it would have hit in different spots each time, but it didn’t. It’s really sore.

On the second trip under the rig I discovered the value of a fusible link. That’s something  like a real fuse that blows up if it’s exposed to too much electricity. According to the wiring schematics, which I can actually read, there are two fusible links connected to the circuit very near the batteries. The one I found was destroyed, like blown to bits, and I immediately remembered a time last fall when I was attempting to connect newly recharged batteries. There was a little spark on connecting the second cable of the battery. It looked like success at the time, but but turns out the corroded cables I connected were both of the positive wires thereby making a direct short across the battery terminals. The fact that the battery didn’t implode was because the connectors were corroded. That was good news. I’m pretty sure this had a profound effect o there fusible link.

Not having a fusible link to replace the one that crumbled in my hands, I took two short 12 gauge wires from some wire I had in the basement. I twisted them together and installed them in place of the blown fusible link. This creative solution is temporary, of course, unless I forget. But, it worked. The old Winnebago cranked right up, smooth as a sewing machine.

After it warmed up, I put it in gear and pulled it out of its old home, and headed for its new spot across the street. It was exciting to learn the brakes worked because the last time I drove it, they didn’t, and I ran into the house. You may remember that from a previous post. Or not.

I got it parked, but not exactly where I wanted it because the old truck was in the way. I couldn’t move it because the battery died a couple of days ago, and when I put a recharged one in the started gear didn’t mesh well with the flywheel, and ground off the tops of a few teeth. This created a situation where I found it necessary to shim up the outer bolt on the starter in order to rotate the gears into closer proximity. Happily that was the solution and the truck started, then died. It was out of gas, this time, so I took care of that, and got it running. The fact that it sounds a bit like an old John Deere tractor isn’t a problem, yet. It runs, and I got it moved.

Then I ended the day doing the gardening mentioned above.

Today I found the electric chain saw, oiled it up, adjusted it, and went to work cutting down all the trees within reach of our green extension cord. That’s not true or I would have taken down the birch tree out front. I think it’s a birch. I just removed the 20 cedar trees between us and our west side neighbors. It looks a bit naked right now, but that will change once the fence goes up.

That’s a project for another day, after the new neighbors take up residency at the end of May.

Now I’m tired and Diane said I have to go to bed.

Gear Head Stuff & Karma

Posted on by

Now, I’m not a real Gear Head, Like Don, but I try. Sometime’s I’m even successful which surprises me when it happens. Such was the case today when, left unsupervised, while Diane took her Mom to the doctor to check out her head, I left the house brimming with confidence that I would accomplish my missions.

One of them was the old ’68 truck. As you may remember, I left it in a shambles with no electricity making it to the necessary wires that would ignite the engine. So, this morning, I went to work as if it wasn’t a problem, put it all back together, and it actually started right up. Oh, there’s a few extra wires hanging around, and I didn’t reinstall the radio or the heater controls, but it works. So do the turn signals, and the windshield wipers, the reason for dismantling it in the first place. One of the added benefits of getting the truck going was that I was able to move it so I could find the socket I dropped a couple of weeks ago. Many of you are probably surprised that I remembered to look for it.

I share this news as though everything went just as smooth as glass, but that’s not the case. I discovered what happens when the tiny little tube isn’t reconnected to the oil pressure gauge. Any guesses? Well, lets just say I’m no longer allowed to wear those sneakers in the house, and I’ll probably have to toss the socks I was wearing.

That reminds me … I should probably connect the speedo, too.

But it runs in an excellent manner.

From the truck I went directly to the ’79 Winnebago. It’s a tough bugger to get started but I know the trick. First I removed the engine cover inside the cab. Then I plunked myself into the driver’s seat and removed the air cleaner cover. That’s necessary in order to spray starting fluid into the carburetor, which I did. This is complicated, however, by the tricky ignition I’ve got. Actually, it’s not tricky. I had a button connected to the starter at some point in time, and it fell off one day. Since I’ve not found it necessary to reinstall it, I just turn the key on and hold the wires together, spraying starting fluid in the carburetor, until something ignites. So far, using that method, the only thing that ignites is the fuel in the engine. That’s because I really don’t spray while the engine is turning.

It started pretty quickly, surprising me, so I let it set and run until the exhausts quick smoking. That didn’t take as long as normal, either.

Then, I moved next door to the ’73 Winnebago to see if I could get it started. I know it will run, but it hasn’t been started in a while so I knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

First, I needed to install one of the batteries just happen to have in the garage. There are three of them, and they all, happily still had a full charge which was applied before I gave my old battery charger away.

Before I took the battery out, however, I decided to do a little pruning. The border trees I parked next to were in the way so I just whacked a bunch of branches off until I could access the battery tray.

With the battery in place I randomly attached two of the four wires in the vicinity and achieved a satisfying spark indicating ‘something’ was connected. Back in the cabin, no matter how hard I turned the ignition key, I couldn’t get it to do anything. So, I went back out and disconnected the battery cables and contemplated which two to connect next. While pondering, I checked the battery terminals, noticing that they are a bit corroded, and the terminal ends of the cables previously used. Turns out the spark i achieved was thankfully brief because had it actually made adequate contact the battery would have imploded. The two I chose first created a direct short between the terminals.

The second and third time I was more careful. I discovered which two powered the 12V lighting, but using the 2nd positive cable still did not result in ignition. So, I figured Karma was telling me to go do something else. So, I did.

I removed the ’79 rig from the driveway so Diane’s Bunco Babes will be able to park 4 vehicles on the house side of the street. The latecomers will have to park across the street.

Now it’s getting late and I must terminate my activity for the day. Lydia has her first high school softball game today at 1630 and I must be there. I have 1.5 hours to get ready. Sadly, I can only watch 1/2 an hour of it because I have another PT session at 1700. Another reason I must quit is because Diane made it back home and reported that I “stink” of mechanical stuff and must wash.

So, I’ll do that.

Trucks, Karma, Kids, & Wood

Posted on by

Today I started my work day working on the pickup but it didn’t last very long. The reason for that is I let Karma dictate the direction my day goes. My task was simply to get the truck started after sitting for a while, but that let to me dismantling a bunch of stuff, and fiddling with a bunch of wires. It wasn’t going well at all. Finally, two things happened that made it evident I was supposed to go find something else to do.

First, while taking the wire connection off the firewall side of the fuse block, I dropped my 3/8″ socket that was attached to my only 3″ extension. I’m pretty sure it dropped to the ground under the truck, into the 8″ deep grass that’s grown there since I parked the truck, but I couldn’t find it.

Considering this devastating loss a minor setback, I found something else to do that only involved a phillips screwdriver. Since the screw I wished to remove was large, and too hard to turn by hand, I used my 1/4″ socket into which I inserted the phillips head. After I got the screw out, the bit also fell into the grass.

That’s when I wrapped everything up, took my tools inside, and went to work on my work bench project. It’s been sitting idle for a couple of months because it seems I was either overly involved doing “other” things, or I was not motivated to go down all 15 stairs into the basement. Today, with the truck project an abject failure, I made the effort, and hammered together a bunch of wood I’d already cut in anticipation of this moment.

Although I have extremely limited space in which to work, I found a way to get it done. Well, not done, exactly, but at least well on the way. Soon, very soon, I’ll have another expanse of horizontal surface on which to stack all that stuff that used to hang on the peg board. At the moment it’s all over the floor making it difficult to get around. I’d include a picture but I’m pretty sure both of the California Mike’s would find totally unacceptable, boarding on the obscene. It’s not pretty. But, it’s getting better. Honest, it is.

When it’s finished, it will have hidey holes for all the power tools and maybe event some extra drawers in which to store things I only use once or twice a year. With all those things actually put away, I don’t know what I’m going do with the time I’ll save by not having to move a pile of “stuff” each time I want to do something. Right now it’s just a way of life for me. Has been for years. That, and looking for my tape measure, or a pencil, every time I need to measure something. Next time those things are on sale, I’m going to buy 6 or 7 of them and just leave them lying around all over the place so one is always handy. I know, I could hook it on my pants, but I don’t like doing that. I have a tool belt/pouch thing, too, but that’s like work. Jeff gave me a really good tool belt once, but I didn’t use it enough so he took it back. Can’t say I blame him. It was a nice one.

Jeran came to visit this evening because the rest of the family was doing things that he wasn’t part of. We had dinner together and then we played board games until Jennifer came to get him. I have to point out that, though he tried very hard, Jeran went home a loser. He didn’t win even one game.

I guess he really didn’t go home a loser because Ozzie allowed Jeran to pet him, something he’s never done before. Maybe Ozzie took exception to the ‘loser’ label. Whatever the reason, Jeran was delighted that he was allowed to touch Oz without fear of getting his hand ripped off.

Lydia is wearing contacts, now, and is really excited about it. She’s cute like normal but more so because now it’s easier to see her eye makeup.

We don’t know what Cedric was doing. I think he must have moved to Arizona. I’m not sure. Haven’t seen him in a while. Maybe Jennifer will fill us in.

I don’t think that I mentioned that I mowed our yard a few days ago. That’s because I felt bad about being able to do that when all the rest of the country is having such terrible weather. I could have mowed it again today, if I wanted to. It was dry and 60-something. Very balmy and spring-ish-like. I can say that because the heather and forsythia are blooming, a sure sign that spring is just around the corner.

Now I’m told it’s time for bed. It’s 2245 and I have absolutely no business being on the computer this late at night. I should be in bed, like all the other old people I know.

Gilligan, Baylee, and Jeran

Posted on by

Now that Christmas is over we look toward next week and the dawning of a New Year. 2014! Thinking back to when I wore much smaller clothes, 2014 wasn’t part of my vocabulary. Heck, neither was 1970. It was just too far out there to be a concern. It’s not a concern now, either, just more like reality making me thankful that I’ve actually made it this far in life. I got to see many of the Buck Rogers things of my youth become reality, we went to the Moon, saw photos sent from Mars … how cool is that? Old news, I know, but still pretty nifty.

The past few days have been very relaxing, giving us time to pause and reflect on things past. That doesn’t take very long for me since I can’t remember much, but it was a fun effort. Diane helps me along with hints until I guess correctly which makes me uncommonly joyful. We do this every day, so it isn’t something new for her. Deep down I know the answers, but keying on her hints makes her happy, especially when I’m right. Makes me happy, too.

Yesterday we received Gilligan and Baylee for their first overnighter with us. Gilligan has stayed before, but when she’s alone with us things are pretty boring. We understand that. So, when they both came it was a really good thing as they each had company with common interests. Here are their adorable selves, sitting at the counter playing with Polly Pockets … Gilligan is the poser on the left.

IMG_0153

Making it even better, Jeran skipped going to the movie with his family so he could stay and play with his cousins. He had planned to be here anyway, but initially considered the movie, then opted to spend his weekend with us. The girls were thrilled and they all had a terrific time. Jeran is great with them. Here’s Jeran as he watches “The Sound Of Music” snuggled under my blankie, without permission, but it’s OK.

IMG_0152

Baylee crashed and burned around 2030, then Gilligan at 2130. Jeran lasted a bit longer. It’s good they went to sleep so easily, and fairly early, but that just meant Saturday morning was an early one. Like 0600 for Diane to mediate. Jeran wisely stayed in bed until around 0930. Me? I don’t remember.

After a simple cereal breakfast the girls were sequestered in Diane’s bathtub with some Avon roll on soap. Blue for Baylee, Red for Gilligan. They each got a vintage Barbie doll to play with, too. They had a good time and didn’t splash all the water out of the tub, just like we asked them not to. After an appropriate amount of time, Grams went in and scrubbed them clean, then shampooed every hair on their heads, one at a time. It didn’t take as long as I thought it would until she told me it was one “child” at a time, not one “hair” at a time.

When everyone was out and dry, I was alerted that the tub wouldn’t drain and required my handy hands. This isn’t my first encounter with the non-draining tub, so I knew exactly what was wrong. Hair. Lots of long hair. It is my belief that whoever designed the tub plug was bald because his complicated mechanism restricts draining water even when it’s pristine clean. I would have taken a picture of it but I know Diane would have objected. It looked kinda like the fur ball Panzee barfed up last summer. Really, it did. Here’s what that looked like … don’t look if you have a week stomach because it’s pretty gnarly …

First, however, here’s the kind of drain I must deal with …

th

Now, Panzee’s fur ball …  if you were quick enough, I had a photo here, but Diane was seriously upset that I published it. I must admit it probably wasn’t the best move I’ve made this year, but had to do it. Now it’s just gone.

The cereal was just a primer for the girls. For an encore, Baylee, who barely eats anything here, had a scrambled egg, another bowl of cereal, a cup of milk, and an M&M Cookie. Grams made french toast for Gilligan and I added a scrambled egg for her.  Jeran ate cereal, two scrambled eggs, and a piece of jelly toast. I had a bagel, Diane had a fried egg, and jelly toast. The animals didn’t eat but Breezie took a shot at an agile hummingbird. Thankfully, she missed.

Now I must go reconstruct Diane’s mixer (the parts arrived yesterday) and see if it works. The coffee maker at church has also been reassembled with the new parts, in case I didn’t mention that in a previous post, like you really care. The coffee maker works perfect and delivers a full pot, every time, and I only got shocked once.

Hope you all have a nice quiet Saturday which isn’t likely if you either like football or live in a house with someone who does.

Cheers.