It still bothers me, this dead-van thing. Why do some people get so attached to inanimate objects?
It took me a couple days to get the van into the correct spot in the driveway. James helped me push it out of the garage and onto the driveway, but it was cock-eyed and blocking traffic and there was snow on the ground and ice on the concrete and it was incredibly painful to try and move the carcass. It needed to be straight, lined up in the third bay, out of the way.
Meanwhile, it's still dripping transmission fluid. Good grief! How much fluid is in a transmission, anyway?
Took me two days to get it done. On Saturday, James and I pushed it out, then I spent the rest of the day trying to remove the front bumper cover (the plastic part) so I could get access to the real (steel) bumper in order to have something to attach a cable to. Didn't actually get the plastic part off til late Saturday because the screws holding on the plastic were rusted or broken or jammed or tight or just ornery.
During rest breaks, I checked the pressure in the tires because it's been very cold lately and they all looked low. A couple of 'em were down to 10 psi!
Sunday, Deb and Mary took Ruby (the red Subaru) to the car wash to get the salt off, then stopped by the store to pick up some ice cream. Not sure why, but we didn't complain. Three hours later, after hooking up my all-purpose pulley system again, the van was finally in the right place. Whew! That was a lot harder than it needed to be.
Had to put a drip pan under the van because it's still dripping transmission fluid.
* *
But I really wasn't going to talk about the van this time. I was going to mention this movie -- perhaps you've heard of it -- called Swiss Family Robinson. We watched it as a family this week. I thought the kids would remember it, since we watched it years ago when we lived back in Washington. But they didn't.
Sometimes I forget how young they were when we came out here. Mary was only 5! She barely remembers Washington at all.
I've always enjoyed that movie, but it is odd to find that I now identify much more with the father (John Mills, father of Hayley) than with the boys, as I once did. And I felt very uncomfortable when Fritz was kissing Bertie. Because they hadn't known each other nearly enough to take it to that level! Perhaps I should've put my hand over the screen so the girls couldn't see that part. Don't want them getting any ideas, y'know.
Guess that's what happens when you get older. And have daughters.
I did learn something this time, something I'd never picked up on before. The father's reason for fleeing to New Guinea is to keep his boys from being conscripted in the Napoleonic Wars (1804-1815). I hadn't realized it was set that early. I'd always thought it was mid-1800s.
It took me a couple days to get the van into the correct spot in the driveway. James helped me push it out of the garage and onto the driveway, but it was cock-eyed and blocking traffic and there was snow on the ground and ice on the concrete and it was incredibly painful to try and move the carcass. It needed to be straight, lined up in the third bay, out of the way.
Meanwhile, it's still dripping transmission fluid. Good grief! How much fluid is in a transmission, anyway?
Took me two days to get it done. On Saturday, James and I pushed it out, then I spent the rest of the day trying to remove the front bumper cover (the plastic part) so I could get access to the real (steel) bumper in order to have something to attach a cable to. Didn't actually get the plastic part off til late Saturday because the screws holding on the plastic were rusted or broken or jammed or tight or just ornery.
During rest breaks, I checked the pressure in the tires because it's been very cold lately and they all looked low. A couple of 'em were down to 10 psi!
Sunday, Deb and Mary took Ruby (the red Subaru) to the car wash to get the salt off, then stopped by the store to pick up some ice cream. Not sure why, but we didn't complain. Three hours later, after hooking up my all-purpose pulley system again, the van was finally in the right place. Whew! That was a lot harder than it needed to be.
Had to put a drip pan under the van because it's still dripping transmission fluid.
* *
But I really wasn't going to talk about the van this time. I was going to mention this movie -- perhaps you've heard of it -- called Swiss Family Robinson. We watched it as a family this week. I thought the kids would remember it, since we watched it years ago when we lived back in Washington. But they didn't.
Sometimes I forget how young they were when we came out here. Mary was only 5! She barely remembers Washington at all.
I've always enjoyed that movie, but it is odd to find that I now identify much more with the father (John Mills, father of Hayley) than with the boys, as I once did. And I felt very uncomfortable when Fritz was kissing Bertie. Because they hadn't known each other nearly enough to take it to that level! Perhaps I should've put my hand over the screen so the girls couldn't see that part. Don't want them getting any ideas, y'know.
Guess that's what happens when you get older. And have daughters.
I did learn something this time, something I'd never picked up on before. The father's reason for fleeing to New Guinea is to keep his boys from being conscripted in the Napoleonic Wars (1804-1815). I hadn't realized it was set that early. I'd always thought it was mid-1800s.
No comments:
Post a Comment