Don’t worry Pony lovers, your idiotic author is still around. And before launching into “new business,” I thought I should clean something up. The Idiotic Brother straightened me out on my recollection that our Dad once won a pig at the company picnic. He correctly pointed out that what Dad had won was a lawn mower. It just happened to be a fuzzy, live lawnmower, a sheep! I knew that, but my fingers slipped on the key board. Moving on.
After an enjoyable holiday with family, I’m ready to go back to work. Then too, Gene said he was getting pointed stares from the Pony as he walked through the garage. So this week we actually worked two consecutive days during a brief cold snap here. How cold was it? Check this out.
That’s the little fountain at Gene’s that sits between the garage and the house. In milder weather the sound of that thing trickling makes the Pony want to pee. Hmmm, maybe that’s why he’s leaking.
Just to bring you back up to speed, since the Pony’s “day of big leaks.” we reinstalled all of the head bolts using aviation gasket sealer. We’re hoping this keeps the coolant from coming up around the head bolts and leaking out the head. Then we also had some gas leaking from the carb, so looked into that. After taking it apart and doing some testing, the dang thing seems to be ok, so we’re a bit perplexed as to why (besides the fountain) we got the leaks.
But with no evident problems we went ahead with reinstalling the carb. As we did that we discovered a stripped thread hole where the carb attaches to the manifold. Following a great deal of thinking by “the team,” we found a solution. We were able to work a smaller diameter screw into the hole, and then in the very tight quarters used an L-shaped screw driver and a wrench turned in tiny little increments. Here’s a shot of the tightening process (with the appropriate area circled in yellow).
While I worked on that, Gene rigged up the wiring, so that when we’re ready to go for a start we’ve got all the necessary electrical connections made and ignition and starter switches installed. So, once again we are creeping up on a Pony start date, hoping this time he won’t wet his drawers.
In related news, I had to make a C.O.M decision after Christmas. This was caused by the generosity of my mother who gave me a Christmas check, but designated it as “help with the Cost-O-Meter.” Of course, the Pony latched right onto this and said that meant the check was for him. He already had visions of investing in soy bean futures and getting rich. I quickly snuffed-out that idea, but still had a more philosophical question, should gifts/ donations to the Pony be allowed to reduce the C.O.M. I’ve decided that this would mess with my ability track the actual cost of the restoration, so there will be no reduction, nor will the gift be allowed to defray future amounts that would otherwise have increased the meter. The Pony wonders how this does him any good, and the answer, of course, is that it doesn’t, but it sure helps out your idiotic author. Thanks Mom!
In non-Pony news, you know that thing where you walk into a room and forget why you went in there? I know you do; there shouldn’t even be a question mark at the end of that sentence. This week I experienced quite possibly the world’s record for the shortest time between thought and forgot. I was standing in the kitchen facing one counter, thought hmmm, I need that thing from the counter behind me, turned and by the time I turned around, forgot what “the thing” was. How can a person like that continue to function without being locked-up? Listen, if y’all don’t here from me, say after about two weeks, please check on me. The Princess might seize on this opportunity to have the Pony (I ain’t going without him) and me institutionalized.
I saw in the newspaper recently an article about how a couple had furnished their home with stuff they’d found at the dump, and they we’re advocating this decorating method for others. What I say to that is “Ewwwu!” I think anyone decorating with this method should be required to post a notice on their door, something like, “I DECORATE WITH GARBAGE. ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.” But this reminded me of an incident The Princess and I had years ago involving a dumpster. We were on an antiquing trip in Maine. At an auction we attended, as it got near the end, the auctioneer pointed to a big table of stuff. I mean it was crammed with junk that looked like it had just come straight from someone’s attic. I had looked at the table, and new there were a few things on it were kind of “cool.” So when the auctioneer said he’d take bids on the whole table, I jumped in, and in the end my bid of $25 took it all.
It took us ages to box up all that stuff and haul it back to our hotel room. We then spent hours sorting the things we wanted to keep from the “chaff.” By then it was the wee hours of the morning and we were stuck considering, what are we going to do with the boxes and boxes of stuff we don’t want? We were afraid the hotel would charge some kind of extra cleaning charge if we just left it there. So my idea was to take it to the back of some store and leave it by their dumpster.
We drove around just a bit, found a strip mall and sure enough there were some dumpsters in the back. I told the Princess we needed to move quickly, get this stuff out of the car, stacked around the already full dumpster and get out of there. So we stopped, the Princess and I unloaded with a flurry and bingo, just after I’d put down the last box a police car rolled up. I was thinking, oh jeez, what kind of trouble are we in now. He rolled down his window, asked what we were doing, and I don’t know where it came from, but I said, “Just checking the bins, sir!” That somehow seemed to satisfy him, and without further questions he drove off. It’s funny, but to this day The Princess and I often think back on that incident and chuckle. I may not be quite as sharp as I used to be, but there was a day when my quick thinking kept us out of jail.
“Just checking the bins, sir,” and hey, thanks for reading.