401k’s, My Water Pump, and God

Posted on August 15, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

I’ve delayed adding this entry because the number, 401, invokes some really sad memories of my previous employment. You see, the power company I worked for was purchased by ENRON and convinced a large number of employees that their stock was impervious to decline. Indeed, it rose rapidly, and stayed high for a long time. Being one of the gullible group, I cast my fortunes with them right up until they made it impossible to withdraw before the stock dropped to $0. Nice. So, my 401k disappeared, after 15 years of participation, in the virtual blink of an eye.

There’s my sad story for today.

Now on to fun stuff …

I worked on the RV today because last night I discovered the water pump leaked. It leaked a lot. This morning I removed it and ripped it apart to see what makes it tick. It was evident someone before me had a problem with it because, in addition to screws, it was held together with silicon gasket material. It was this that became compromised allowing water to squirt all over under the sink. Sadly, I won’t be able to replace parts in it because they don’t make this kind any more. I’ll have to buy a new one. I may let it dry out and see about making it water tight, once again, but don’t have any high hopes of that happening. It would be far easier to just replace it but, then, it’s been a while since I’ve had my fingers stuck together with silicone sealant. Might be kinda nice, for a change.

There’s good news – the ’79 RV still runs, and the transmission works! I know because I drove it to Warren and parked it at the church as agreed. It drives just great even though it hasn’t been driven for about a year. I start it once in a while, just for fun, so I know the engine is good. Might be a good idea to change the oil, though. You think?

Now it’s time to lounge for the evening. I have nothing significant to say except I’ve been working on my version of religious history. I think I’m on chapter seven. I’m doing it with the firm belief that God has a sense of humor. He must because I have not been hit by lightning, yet. There is, however, always tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll be labeled a blasphemer, at the minimum, and that’s OK because I know it’s not true.

I’m just having fun at God’s expense. Since he knows me so well, I don’t think he minds.

Engines, Swing Sets, and Tom

Posted on August 10, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

Today I did something I’ve been wanting to do for months. I worked on the old D-22 Winnebago and got it running! That’s a pretty magnificent thing, I thought, because I’m not really a gear head. I’m more of a computer nerd-type of person. Actually, I’m just a semi-nerd because I don’t know half the stuff real nerds know. I just fiddle around the edges, and I’m not afraid to rip things apart to see what makes them tick.

I do, however, have problems with motivation. You know, getting started on something I want to do. It’s easy to claim that other projects get creep to the top of my list before I can get it done, but that’s not really valid. Today, however, I put my OCD-ness aside for a moment, gathered my tools, and went out to tackle this thing.

I was allowed to do this because Diane went to her Mom’s for Day Two of their garage sale. It was a bust. She came home around 1:30 pm because they only made about $20 between them. But, they had a nice visit.

Back to the Winnie …

The problem was with the fuel system. I already knew this, but I didn’t know where. So, I unpacked my trouble-shooting hat and went to work at the Tank Selection Switch, that gives a satisfying little click when I push the right switch on the dash. I didn’t trust it, however, so routed the fuel line around it, directly to the fuel pump.

That didn’t work, so I took the fuel pump out and tested it on a spare battery I just happened to have in the garage. It was charged up, too. I checked. This was an obstacle I had to rise above so I thought and thoughts about what to do. Then the light bulb popped on reminding me of the electric fuel pump I used to get the D-22 home in the first place. I’d installed it on the old pickup because I didn’t think the mechanical fuel pump was working. Turns out is was ok, but the pump was still installed, until around noon.

I got the pump connected to the fuel line, and connected the wires, then tested it with the dash switch. It worked just fine, making all kinds of little pumping noises. But, it wasn’t pushing fuel to the carburetor. I knew this was true because I was looking at a clear fuel filter right next to the carburetor as I cranked the engine. It was right there beside me so I know I wasn’t just guessing.

The engine also has a mechanical fuel pump, like all good engines, but I didn’t know if it worked or not, even though left it connected to the fuel line.

When I first started cranking the engine, I could hear the pump prime itself, and I saw a little movement in the gas filter, but not enough to fire the engine. This told me that it might be a good idea to take the mechanical fuel pump out of the line and just run on the electric pump. When I crawled back under the rig to do this, I noticed gas dripping from the bottom of the pump, so I knew gas was getting to it, but apparently not through it. But, the electric pump just kept right on chugging the entire time the ignition key was on. To help me solve this dilemma, before going under the rig the next time, I turned the electric pump on and left it running so I could see what was happened.

It was pretty exciting when I looked. Gas was spewing everywhere out of the mechanical pump from parts that are specifically designed to not spew. Figuring this was a good clue on which to build a solution, I returned to the cab and stopped the electric fuel pump.

Then it was back under so I could disconnect the mechanical pump, and remove it from the fuel line. Knowing the fuel lines, and the pump, were now full of fuel, I braced myself for a deluge of gas when I took the lines apart and reconnected them around the mechanical pump. I wasn’t disappointed. Gas poured down my arm, soaking my shirt, burning like crazy. But I stood fast, getting it all reconnected, and hose clamps clamped until nothing dripped. Since I already knew it was going to gush, I successfully kept my face out of the way so didn’t have to content with potential blindness or lung damage.

After waiting the recommended amount of time for allowing gas to dry on your clothing, which is about 37 minutes, I re-entered the cab and fired up the electric fuel pump and was provided with a satisfying surge of fuel into the fuel filter at the carburetor. I cranked the engine and it started almost immediately, pleasing me immensely. I runs extremely well, kinda like a sewing machine, but considerably louder.

I was pleased. I was ecstatic.

It ran and nothing caught on fire. That was the best part, I think. No fire, although I’m sure there was a strong possibility of it at any moment.

Putting thoughts of fire aside, I put it in reverse to make sure the transmission still worked. It did, but the brakes didn’t like I’d hoped the would. Since it moved, however, I figured it was a good opportunity for me to put it in the driveway to pump up the left front tire which has slowly been going flat over the last year or so.

Just when I put it in reverse, Diane showed up. So, you know that was about 1:30 pm. She was very proud of me and parked in the driveway, where I wanted to be, so she could rush to me and give me the “Hug of Gladness”. She didn’t do that. Instead, I asked her to move the Buick into the garage so I could put the Winnie in the driveway. She said, “I can’t because your boxes are in the way.” I looked, and it was true, there were two boxes in the way. I looked, not because I didn’t believe her, but because I was curious about what boxes they might be. Turns out they were empty cardboard boxes which were very easy to move. Once I did, she moved her vehicle into the garage.

Then it was back to the Winnie for me, by golly. I’d left it running, just to see how long it took before it quit, but it purred right along the whole time I was gone. Putting it in reverse, I eased it back about 20 feet or so, so I could make the right turn into our driveway in one move and discovered that the brakes still didn’t work. I probably should have checked the brake fluid level, but I was determined to finish the current task first … get it into the driveway. Doing so, in the condition the brakes were poses a significant danger to the back of the Buick, and the garage, but I overcame this by working the transmission like a coxswain in a motor whale boat, easing it forward, then jamming on the useless brakes about five or six times, then putting it in reverse to stop the forward momentum. Coxswains don’t use brakes to drive their boats so that comparison was only partially correct. With the transmission, and use of the emergency brake, which I accidentally discovered worked pretty good, I got it parked and was able to pump up the tire.

About the tires … the wheels on this thing are 19″ aluminum 5-lug custom rims. Consequently, the tires are also 19″ in the middle, and considerably taller on the outside. They are enormous things. The other Winnebago we have only has 16″ rims and the wheels look tiny by comparison. I think the Alcoa Aluminum rims were an option in 1973, but I’m not positive. I did, however, spy them in the parts catalog I have for Winnebago parts. They cost way more than what I paid for the entire rig. That means I have a huge polishing job in my future so they’ll be pretty. Incidentally, I know they are Alcoa Aluminum rims because each of them has a sticker proclaiming that fact. This tells me that Alcoa was very proud of those rims at some point in time so I need to honor them by making them shiny again.

With the RV out of the way, I cranked (and cranked) the truck up and moved it to the end of the portion of property we own on the other side of the road. Then I got my loppers out and proceeded to hack down blackberry vines, again. These are new ones, however, not the same ones I hacked down earlier in the week. Before hauling the residue down to the burn pile, I ran the mower back and forth across the weeks, getting as close to the blackberry vines as possible without endangering my little bare legs because I was wearing shorts.

It cleaned up pretty nice and gave Diane another reason to be proud of me. Twice in one day. I believe that’s a record for me.

I had just backed out of the driveway to move the RV back across the street, with the old truck, When Jeff showed up with Gilligan, Baylee, Ziva, and Daisy. In case you didn’t know, Ziva and Daisy are dogs. The other two are very energetic grandchildren who love to run, everywhere they go. Wears me out.

With his arrival, parking the RV because a parallel parking issue because he parked at the end furthest from the old truck, which I had backed into the blackberries just as far as I could, placing it in such a manner that if I couldn’t stop the RV, the truck would. Turns out I’m pretty good at parking RVs just by using the transmission R and D positions.

Jeff came to deal with the elaborate swing set Diane and I got Cedric, Lydia, and Jeran when they were much younger, but have since grown beyond the need to use it. Jeff had it installed at another place to which they were going to move, but that didn’t work out, so it was dismantled and placed on the west side of the garage. He and I moved it to the back yard near the location we all chose for the erection. Perhaps resurrection would be more correct since it’s already been erected a couple of times. It’s certainly not ‘construction’ because it’s just a matter of bolting it all together and making sure it doesn’t fall over. OK, now I’m getting confused so will move along …

It’s 8:40 pm, now, and the batter on my laptop is almost ready to expire, so I will quite.

Tom, incidentally, was removed from the respirator today and is breathing on his own. More improvement which is really the best thing about today. That, and making my bride proud.

Twice.

Golfing, the Ducks, and Rain …

Posted on October 18, 2012 by Jerrie Cate

Summer is over in St. Helens, Oregon. I know that’s true because the weatherman said so and I believe pretty much everything he tells me. Actually, he told Diane, on the evening news, and she told me and I believe everything she tells me. Not believing her isn’t an option.

When the rain started our satellite dish took a brief hit, scrambling the pixels for a bit, but straightened up quickly so I could watch the end of the game where the Oregon Ducks dismantled the Arizona Sun Devils. The game started badly for the Ducks with a fumble which was recovered by the Sun Devils who scored on their first play from scrimmage.

On the ensuing kickoff, the Ducks scored then converted for an 8-7 lead. All of this took about 90 seconds off the play clock. For the remainder of the first half the Ducks punished the Sun Devils for that first fumble by scoring 43 unanswered points.

During the second half the Ducks backed off, playing pretty much everyone on the bench. Nick Aliotti wasn’t happy, I’m sure, because the Ducks remained at 43 but the Sun Devils 2nd string scored 14 more points. Final was 43-21. Ducks are awesome. Now the only unbeaten teams in the Pac-12 conference are the Ducks and the Beavers – both Oregon teams. How about that?

Now, about the rain … during the first 15 minutes the sky dropped about 3 inches of rain in the area. Not all in one place, but over a large area, and if it was squeezed together into a smaller area I’m sure it would be at least 3 inches. I’m really not sure how they measure rainfall. I think it has something to do with an empty tuna can.

Most of the day it was nice and clear. I even went golfing with the Peal Brothers this morning. I did my normal terrible, but it was fun because I hit some incredible drives. They were straight and everything. Just like they’re supposed to be. That’s about as good as it got because I apparently can’t hit anything that isn’t setting up on one of those little tee’s. I’m told it’s illegal to use those in the fairway.

After golfing badly, I came home to work on the Blue Bago, but Diane called and invited me to a Burgerville lunch with her Mother. I never turn down a Burgerville lunch. Today I had a Pepper Bacon Cheese Burger with lemon ade. That’s a change because I normally have a chocolate milkshake which isn’t good for my fake diabetes problem.

Now, don’t think that last statement means that I take diabetes lightly. It’s just that I’ve been told I’m borderline and until a specific determination has been made it’s not a real problem I can deal with. I have a hard time dealing with intangibles.

This afternoon, after lunch, I put on some old work clothes and went out to wash the top of the Blue Bago to see what it looks like. When I started it was pretty much black all over. After I scrubbed it with Dawn and water. Turns out one of the previous owners had painted the roof with pink snow roof. Without the dirt it looks mighty festive. Also, it looks great and is nicely sealed. I don’t think it’s leaked for a long time and don’t expect it to leak now. I guess we’re going to find out.

I washed the roof today because I knew it was going to rain tonight and I have work to do underneath the bago … like reconnect all of the gas lines and find out why the system doesn’t work. Being underneath, I won’t get rained on. See, I’m thinking ahead. I won’t get rained on, but my back will probably get wet from all the water running down the road. That’s OK as long as I figure it out.

Now I must rest.

My Blue Bago

Posted on October 17, 2012 by Jerrie Cate

It’s not really just mine … it’s ours … mine and Diane’s. It’s a 1973 Winnebago D22 and this is what it looks like right now.

The blue Subaru behind it is the tow car but we can’t tow it yet because we don’t have a tow bar yet. So, it’s a chase car. I may have mentioned that before.

We bought this thing yesterday. It’s been sitting for a year behind a business in Hillsboro. I had high hopes of getting it home yesterday, but gas tank lashup I had didn’t work very well. Today Doug went with me to see what we could do with it. Everything worked just fine until the electric fuel pump froze up. We took it back to Baxter’s who refunded the purchase price because the one we bought yesterday was the only one he had. So, we went down the street a little further to Auto Zone and got another one, just like it.

To power it up Doug suggested we buy a cheap $1.99 extension cord instead of paying $6.00 for a comperable amount of wire. He cut both ends off, stripped the shielding and used both wires for the conduit. We found a hot wire peeking out of the dash that was only hot when the key was on so we were good to go after hooking up the pump to the carbuerator.

The engine started right away and ran exceedingly smooth. There are no discernable exhaust leaks. I drove it home without bolting down the engine cover in the cab so it was drafty, noisy and hot. For the fuel supply I placed a 5 gallon gas can just inside the door and just dropped the end of the fuel line in it after connecting it to the fuel pump.

Tomorrow, after golf, I’ll get a couple more pictures and post them so you can see what a traveling death trap I was driving this afternoon. I did have a fire extinguisher, but didn’t have to use it. The gas can went dry in Warren, about 4 miles from home. I really thought I could make it, but we had to pull over and make a gas run to St. Helens. Thankfully Doug was following me the entire way, keeping an eye on things for me. Without his help today that thing would still be sitting in Hillsboro. I asked him to marry me, because he’s such a good friend, but he reminded me that I’m already married. In response, I told him I was thinking of becoming a bisexual Mormon so I could have both a husband and a wife. He didn’t think it was a good idea, or that his wife would approve, so we avoided that issue the remainder of the day. It was a little awkward for a while after that.

Add to all the other things going on, I now have gout in the palm of my foot. Not really the palm, more towards the first knuckles of all my middle toes. This is going to help me with golf tomorrow because you’re supposed to put your weight on your heals when you swing the club. That will not be a problem.

The Blue Winnebago

Posted on October 15, 2012 by Jerrie Cate

OK. Now I’ve done it. Just when things were going fine Les sends a picture of this blue Winnebago he found in Hillsboro that was for sale. Interesting, for sure, and I just had to see it. Bad mistake. Now I have to go pay the guy for it and get it home. Dumb.

So, we’re now the proud owners of a 1973 Winnebago. Yea!

I wonder what the neighbors are going to think when we get it home.

I’ll let you know.

Holy Toledo

Standard | Posted on June 28, 2012 by Jerrie Cate

That’s Toledo, Oregon, in case you’re wondering. Today we visited this small artsy-crafty village which is situated abut four miles east of Newport. It’s got a huge saw mill and an odiferous paper mill for industry as well as a main street that turns in to a city wide yard sale every Thursday. Fortunately, today was Thursday so we got to enjoy a wonderful stroll along the street meeting some very nice people. Actually, everyone we met was very nice.

We saw these same tied-dye folks in Waldport yesterday. Some of the other vendors were also there. Also, all of the shop owners along main street pulled their wares out onto the street …

We got a little hungry when we got to the end of the main street and fortunately crossed paths with Sassafras Sue. She wasn’t real keen on having her picture taken but acquiesced for this one shot, as long as she didn’t have to look at the camera. So, she didn’t. Diane and I had sandwiches, Les and Sophie had salads. All of it was most excellent, the prices were good, and the service exceptional. We went back later to get special coffee from their very own Starbucks certified barista who has been doing it for ten years, since she was sixteen, before and after she went to college to be a social worker.

Today we met a dog named Bruce. Sadly, I didn’t take a picture of him. You would have liked him because he looked kinda like the dog-dragon animal in “The Never Ending Story”. He was brown, instead of white, and he was much smaller.

As we departed Toledo, the clouds condensed and began overflowing, giving us a more familiar version of coastal weather. We don’t mind. We had to get “home” to let Ozzie run. He’s been a good little house sitter for us and doesn’t seem to mind. Probably because he knows he’s going to get a treat when we get back to him.

Before going inside I hooked the RV up to the Buick so we could head out in the morning if the weather is still nasty. If we do, we’ll just wander up Highway 101 to Astoria and skip the freeway.