Adventures in Car Repair - Part I Lost Count

 So, a week or two ago, The Queen gets a message from her dad, Opa, that his Jeep broke down. A brief digression if I may. Opa is closing in on 82, and his driving skills are bad enough to scare combat veterans. I flat out refuse to ride with him. He’s the only person who has ever made me car sick. We won’t let him drive anywhere with M&M. Period. We’ve been trying to talk him into hanging up the keys, but his narcissistic pride won’t hear of it. “God will protect me.” It ain’t you we are worried about you stubborn twit. 

He backed into a tree recently. A tree that had been growing in that same spot for the last half century at least. When asked how he backed into a tree (after he tried to gaslight us about the damage), he said “I didn’t see it.” When we pointed out he lives on a property where tiny humans roam around and that his failure to pay attention could result in harm to one of his great grandchildren, he got quiet (which is his way of refusing to discuss it further because he knows he’s wrong but can’t admit it). 

In recent years, I have backed away from being his mechanic because I don’t have the time for it and I really get pissed off when he ignores every bit of sound advice I give him about taking care of his car. That said, when The Queen got the text, I offered TO HER to go check it out for her piece of mind because she bears the brunt of his insanity if he is without transportation. 

My brother in law and his oldest son made a game attempt at diagnosing the problem, but their guesses didn’t mesh up with the symptoms described. To whit:

Sitting on the side of the road at my nephew’s house idling (in 100 degree Texas heat which I have told him NOT to do) when all of a sudden there was a loud pop and water and steam spewed out the front. 

BIL and nephew guessed water pump as they claimed there was still coolant in the radiator. I was dubious. So, we packed up the truck and drove the 45 minutes to an hour over there to see for our own selves. 

I took my time and went over inch of the cooling system. No leaks apparent in the hoses. That’s good. The AC condenser had radiator coolant all over it which was odd but consistent with “water and steam” coming out the front as the condenser is mounted directly in front of the radiator. The coolant reservoir tank did indeed show that it was “full”; however, taking the cap off the radiator showed that not to be the case and the hoses were not full either. Hmmmm….something is definitely amiss. The thermostat didn’t show any leaks at the hose connection or gasket. There was no sign of coolant leaking from the water pump weep hole. So, I was dubious of the diagnosis of a bad water pump. Since nothing was super obvious, we decided to swap out the old, worn out radiator cap for a new one, add some coolant and try to see if we could figure out where the leak was. 

Snerk. 

I started pouring coolant in to the radiator filler neck only to hear it pouring out.

Astute observers might call this a clue. 

This is a view of the drivers side of the radiator as viewed from the drivers side fender. Front of the vehicle is to the left. The area circled in yellow is the radiator side tank. It’s made of plastic. For those who payed attention in class, plastic becomes brittle with heat. Texas heat plus engine heat = brittle plastic radiator side tanks. This radiator is 7 years old. I know this because I’m the one who put it in 7 years ago. 

Once removed from the vehicle, we can see the problem much more clearly:

That 10” or so long crack in the side tank does NOT aid in cooling. Quite the opposite in fact. 

The Jeep has a new radiator installed which will last until Opa finally gives up the keys or wrecks the car (please, Dear Lord, do not allow him to take anyone with him). Unfortunately, I have to go back out there to finish the repairs because the transmission cooler lines refused to let go their death grip on the radiator fittings and kinda got destroyed in the process. So, a new set of lines was ordered and delivered this week. 

The things I do to keep my wife sane….

Saturday Memes and Stuff

M&M and I are animal sitting for my cousin and his wife the last few days. This handsome fellow is Indiana who has apparently claimed me as his emotional support human.

I admit to a bit of a cluttering habit. The Queen is a stuffer. So, if my clutter is missing, I have to figure out where she stuffed it. 

My cousin’s cat, Salem, apparently lost the custody battle. So, now he engages in “crime hour” twice a day.

Blue Bell has lost their damn mind….

Best friend and Number 1 Follower is doing Uber and Lyft as a side hustle these days. This kicked over my giggle box, but it’s also true.

I learned how to make my own memes. This is our youngest cat Tiny putting her taint all over my freshly washed large skillet.

Yeah…that’s not the way that works at all. I did manage to get a shadow ban from a friend who took down an entire comment string because I apparently had the temerity to play devils advocate and question how he defines rights and which rights exactly he thinks he doesn’t have (he is in the LGBTQ+ community) and why it’s the government’s business to “fix it” in the first place. 

Late one night, I was taking a friend home driving through the tiny town of Pantego, TX. At the corner of Bowen and Park Row is a gas station where 3 Pantego PD cars were parked. This is like 1 or 2 AM. I made a crack about “Hey look, it’s the Donut Squad.” Yep. You guessed it. I got pulled over by the 4TH Donut Squad member a couple hunderd yards down the road. He wrote me a ticket for “35 in a 49” which the judge refused to throw out. The worst part is I wasn’t going 49. The cop was parked at the bottom of a hill, and I was going up the hill. He radared a car coming down the hill but pulled me over.

The Olympics memes were absolute fire this year.

Our dog Snow posing for a great meme.

I want this. I don’t care if it’s not practical. I want it  

 

Quite with the Teasing AI!

 I know this is an AI generated image…but I kinda want to see that flavor in stores. 

I was born and raised in Texas. Dr Pepper (don’t be gauche and a “.” after Dr) is home grown here in Texas originally made in the little town of Dublin. In certain part of Texas you will find people who refer to it as Texas Coffee. I grew up drinking DP, and it is still my favorite soft drink with grape soda a close second. I’ve not to my recollection tried the flavored versions of DP, but I do like me some Bourbon and everyone knows how Bourbon goes with Coke like peas and carrots. So, I’m game. 

Sunday Silliness

 

The Queen recently decreed that we should cut out carbs from our diet. She wants us to stick to meat and veggies. I won’t live without carbs. The dinner menu tonight: homemade nachos with beer. 

My demons aren’t that stable.

Despite a bucket list item to fly the killer egg (Hughes 500D), eggbeaters are unnatural death machines. 1000s of parts made by the lowest bidder flying in close formation held together by a Jesus Nut. Not confidence inspiring. 

This is so true. I am so far out of currency that my PPL has grown mold on it.

I am probably one of the few people that likes the looks of the Cobra II Mustang, but it needs a serious horsepower transplant.

Texas NEEDS this.

The last week has been unseasonably cool for Texas. We even got rain which is unheard of.

One of our resident roadrunners.

All Good Things Must Come To An End

 My daughter’s summer camp ends today. As you read this, we will already be packed and on the road headed home. It’s been a little over two weeks since we arrived, and it has been a blur of work and sleep for me. M&M has been enjoying her last year as a pre-teen camper. Next year, she will be staying in the dorms with the teens and participating in full spectrum of camp activities which includes being escorted to the dining hall by the teen boy campers. 

To say that The Queen and I are prepared for young men to be interested in our daughter would be a gross overstatement. We know most of the boys in the church at least passingly well. Some better than others. I honestly don’t know with which boy I would be comfortable trusting my daughter (as if I have much say in the matter). 

For now, I will let next year’s worries wait until next year. I didn’t get out much this year since I was on kitchen duty again. But here are some photos of my time here. 

M&M at mealtime with some of her friends. 

Sabbath church services all dressed up. M&M is 12. The young lady next to her is 19. Can you believe it?

The camp runs on its collective stomach. The kids and staff burn a huge amount of calories while here. Very few people miss a meal here, and it’s interesting to see people ignore their special diets while at camp. 

M&M had a “cold bore” shot in the yellow. 

Happy camper. 

One of my kitchen staff companions enjoying an early morning canoe outing. 

A nearly perfect omelette. The first few each year are kinda ugly, but we hit a groove where we know how much and how long to make a decent looking folded omelette. 

The side by side omelette station gets pretty messy after slinging several dozen omelettes two at a time with a partner in crime sharing the station with you. I try to avoid the solo station as that’s where the special needs ingredients are (dairy free eggs and vegan cheese). 

Our main dishwasher. She had a lot of help from campers and staffers alike. It’s eye watering how big a mess we can make in a short amount of time. I tried to be a good coworker and rinse my utensils and cookware before leaving it stacked to run through the wash. The kids though…I’m not saying some of them were raised by bears in a barn, but they can sure see it from where they were raised. 

Our main prep and cooking area. It gets pretty tight in there with multiple butts competing for space. The stove and griddle are my main areas of operation. 

The infamous tilt skillet / steam bath. That’s our kitchen staff director doing battle with something. If you embiggen the pic, you can see the steam up around the ceiling lights. 

M&M awaiting her turn on the knee board at the lake. 

240 ounces of li’l smokies. I have no idea how many those are, but we get them up to temp and on the line for hungry folks. My second favorite breakfast item here at camp after breakfast tacos. 

Scrambled eggs but the skillet load. We crack and scramble 22 dozen eggs most days with the exception of the 5 omelette days. That’s 264 eggs that have to be cooked everyday. Those skillets get pretty heavy. It normally takes us five or six batches of eggs to cook them all.