7:29 PM |
This is what it says on an ashtray I stole from a hotel near Champagne when I was sixteen. It shows a little boy statue pissing in the fountain. The meaning is that you shouldn't drink the water, presumably because you will be drinking bubbly.
Today's theme is water pumps. As usual, I needed a jump to get going this morning. My innkeeper was glad to oblige as I come bearing my own cables now. I am reasonably sure AAA does not come here. No luck with the jump. Then I wondered if I was out of gas. Jim went and got some. It was in a brand new plastic can and he wasn't sure how to undo the valve. Is it coming out?, he asked. At this point Jim is getting a bit testy with me, and I know he is doing all he can do to be polite. He has a stick in his bottom and has never done hard work, ever. I can tell. However, he does cook a mean breakfast (a take on eggs benedict with Bernaise sauce, herb roasted potatoes and applewood smoked bacon). He reminds me of a dean at my son's country day school whose first name is Clee. Did I mention my son went to boarding school? That's because he didn't like Clee, among other things. My ex-husband always called him Cleat. He would have summer lacrosse camp every year. He wasn't very good, so I'm not sure how this worked. Lacrosse had been a gentleman's game until it turned into a sport.
Anyhow, the B&B's tagline is "An exceptional gathering place for the remarkable individual celebrating a special moment in time." I'm pretty sure I'm an exceptional person and I was about to experience a special moment in time. Woody was dead. D.E.A.D. dead. In the nick of time, up pulled another guy in Carthartt's (black coveralls this time) who had come to fix some lights at the Monteagle Inn. Everyone in Carthartt's is interesting. He was in the construction business which was kind of tough for a few months there, but he is/was also a musician. Little Richard has a house down in Winchester, and he still gets rolled around in town in his wheelchair. He's a drummer (so is almost-real imaginary boyfriend!). I should check him out on YouTube. Bear Hollow. My Carthartt's man is now my best friend. Note to self: discretely inquire of innkeeper his name. It is not one which I should have forgotten. He really gets how great the car is. Took a look and decided to bring his buddy in. Buddy gets off work at 3:30 and will come over right after that. In the meantime, we had a nice chat. He thinks that to be interesting you have to be "a little to the left, or a little to the right." I most wholeheartedly agree. He also says that when you need somebody with one of these things, someone's bound to oblige. He's right there too. And if I break down someone's gonna steal that car. And you, too, says buddy. Probably right again. Must. Fix. Car. The duo ooh and aah over the condition and originality of Woody. They are more knowledgeable than any other motor-lookers I've met. Tom offers to trade me for his Ranger. It works (the truck, not the trade).
Friend (Tom? I'm still freezing and do not have Carthartt's on) arrives with his amp meter. Battery okay. Best friend (mine that is) calls over to someone else to get a 6 volt. He'll have it 7 a.m. tomorrow. After some poking around under the hood the two guys remember that these Fords always had a tendency to leak coolant from the water pump which then messes up the points (by the way, I really do know that points are part of the distributor that is called a crab because it looks like one; Daryl taught me that and he's earned his 46). Another guy is called. He's real good with these because he's a car nut and does hot rods and all that. While we're waiting for a call back, we talk about Tom's collection of World War II firearms, some that look brand new. They have swastikas on them. BFF tells about a former Ranger they know that is sorta messed up in the head, but just won't quit. We get a call. Floyd thinks I need to get a new fuel pump because he doesn't want to rebuild this one. My BFF said that, shoot, he's a machinist so he could just make one for me. But he wants to call the guy at the parts store over in Tracey City. The guy's phone was busy. When BFF called back with a smile, he just wanted to ask if someone had called about a fuel pump. That'd be Floyd. BFF told me to write this down: Felton's Clutch in Chattanooga. I could call there next. No answer. Probably talking to Floyd.
At this point, it was almost 5 p.m. Eastern time, and I figured I'd call back home to friend/car restorer to see if he has one on the shelf. He suggests Speedway in Nebraska because they are in the next time zone and maybe could overnight one. They can, only the UPS guy has already come and they will have to do it tomorrow. Floyd has four cars in his three bay garage, and they're in parts. Maybe the next day, but he doesn't work on the weekends. I have to get that pump, fast. I call Floyd back with the good news that I have secured two water pumps and that we might as well replace both of them. He disagrees and thinks that I should just carry the other one around in case. He'd do both if it was one like they build at Speedway, better than the old ones. Ta-da! My pumps are coming from Speedway. He is impressed. He will call me tomorrow to talk about the next day. I can just bring the car right over. Uh, no, I can't. He'll tow it. Please God, flatbed.
I'm one of those people who has to have wheels. Give me a bike and I'm fine. I just need to be mobile. I wonder if I can get a rental car. One of the girls in the B&B office said she thinks I can get an Enterprise car in Winchester, and they deliver. Well, I can get a car in another car and they don't deliver and it has to be tomorrow. Heaven forbid I should ask for a ride from my exasperated innkeeper. I'd been nosing around at the various brochures artfully arranged in a china cabinet. One of them was for longer distance rides. That's me all right. Gotta get to the rental car. Called Donnie. He said he's out of business, supply and demand he said, but if I didn't mind a pickup, he'd take me over himself. 10 o'clock, so we can see how the weather is. To add insult to injury, it is going to snow again. Two to six inches. This is Tennessee.
Asked to stay another night at B&B. Innkeeper went to check reservation books. Lucky me, he has an opening, but someone has my room booked for the weekend. I told him I would be fine with moving. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one staying here.
Emailed college boyfriend with lunch invitation. Took a nap.
Today's theme is water pumps. As usual, I needed a jump to get going this morning. My innkeeper was glad to oblige as I come bearing my own cables now. I am reasonably sure AAA does not come here. No luck with the jump. Then I wondered if I was out of gas. Jim went and got some. It was in a brand new plastic can and he wasn't sure how to undo the valve. Is it coming out?, he asked. At this point Jim is getting a bit testy with me, and I know he is doing all he can do to be polite. He has a stick in his bottom and has never done hard work, ever. I can tell. However, he does cook a mean breakfast (a take on eggs benedict with Bernaise sauce, herb roasted potatoes and applewood smoked bacon). He reminds me of a dean at my son's country day school whose first name is Clee. Did I mention my son went to boarding school? That's because he didn't like Clee, among other things. My ex-husband always called him Cleat. He would have summer lacrosse camp every year. He wasn't very good, so I'm not sure how this worked. Lacrosse had been a gentleman's game until it turned into a sport.
Friend (Tom? I'm still freezing and do not have Carthartt's on) arrives with his amp meter. Battery okay. Best friend (mine that is) calls over to someone else to get a 6 volt. He'll have it 7 a.m. tomorrow. After some poking around under the hood the two guys remember that these Fords always had a tendency to leak coolant from the water pump which then messes up the points (by the way, I really do know that points are part of the distributor that is called a crab because it looks like one; Daryl taught me that and he's earned his 46). Another guy is called. He's real good with these because he's a car nut and does hot rods and all that. While we're waiting for a call back, we talk about Tom's collection of World War II firearms, some that look brand new. They have swastikas on them. BFF tells about a former Ranger they know that is sorta messed up in the head, but just won't quit. We get a call. Floyd thinks I need to get a new fuel pump because he doesn't want to rebuild this one. My BFF said that, shoot, he's a machinist so he could just make one for me. But he wants to call the guy at the parts store over in Tracey City. The guy's phone was busy. When BFF called back with a smile, he just wanted to ask if someone had called about a fuel pump. That'd be Floyd. BFF told me to write this down: Felton's Clutch in Chattanooga. I could call there next. No answer. Probably talking to Floyd.At this point, it was almost 5 p.m. Eastern time, and I figured I'd call back home to friend/car restorer to see if he has one on the shelf. He suggests Speedway in Nebraska because they are in the next time zone and maybe could overnight one. They can, only the UPS guy has already come and they will have to do it tomorrow. Floyd has four cars in his three bay garage, and they're in parts. Maybe the next day, but he doesn't work on the weekends. I have to get that pump, fast. I call Floyd back with the good news that I have secured two water pumps and that we might as well replace both of them. He disagrees and thinks that I should just carry the other one around in case. He'd do both if it was one like they build at Speedway, better than the old ones. Ta-da! My pumps are coming from Speedway. He is impressed. He will call me tomorrow to talk about the next day. I can just bring the car right over. Uh, no, I can't. He'll tow it. Please God, flatbed.
I'm one of those people who has to have wheels. Give me a bike and I'm fine. I just need to be mobile. I wonder if I can get a rental car. One of the girls in the B&B office said she thinks I can get an Enterprise car in Winchester, and they deliver. Well, I can get a car in another car and they don't deliver and it has to be tomorrow. Heaven forbid I should ask for a ride from my exasperated innkeeper. I'd been nosing around at the various brochures artfully arranged in a china cabinet. One of them was for longer distance rides. That's me all right. Gotta get to the rental car. Called Donnie. He said he's out of business, supply and demand he said, but if I didn't mind a pickup, he'd take me over himself. 10 o'clock, so we can see how the weather is. To add insult to injury, it is going to snow again. Two to six inches. This is Tennessee.
Asked to stay another night at B&B. Innkeeper went to check reservation books. Lucky me, he has an opening, but someone has my room booked for the weekend. I told him I would be fine with moving. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one staying here.
Emailed college boyfriend with lunch invitation. Took a nap.