These are not the words that I want to hear when my phone rings at work at 9:00 am. This happened on Friday morning. There was obviously nothing I could do about it then but it gave me something to look forward to the rest of the day. I have learned to hate taking vehicles to the mechanic. After listening to the car, I decided it was the starter that had gone bad. With my dislike of mechanics in mind, I crawled up under the Jeep figuring "How bad can it be to change?" After a brief inspection, I was reminded of some words of wisdom that my dad had said many times as he was about to tear into something he knew little about. "God hates a coward." he would say while reaching for his tools. With that in mind, I decided to tackle it.
After a trip to Auto Zone on Saturday, I was equipped with a jackstand, a starter and an optomism rarely seen in someone that knows as little about cars as I do. While I was out working on the car, Reba was inside figuring out if she would need a rental to get to work after we had to take it to the shop on Monday. The confidence that she had was inspiring. With Matt there to assist, I crawled up under the vehicle and after way more time than probably anyone else would have needed, I emerged, covered in black grease, ready for a test start. I was thrilled to hear it crank on the first try. I was happy, Reba was impressed, and our mechanic will need to find another way to pay for his boat. Tonight's post, while it has no real artistic value at all, does represent an afternoon of blood, sweat and... well no tears, but quite a bit of swearing.
By the way, this post is the first post of the second half of the year. 183 down, 182 to go.