So, the highlights. The Saturday before Christmas, my Jeep wouldn't start. Instead of finishing my shopping and wrapping presents, I spent the afternoon resolving complex logistical issues of getting to work that evening and to Southern Indiana the next day.
On Sunday, a Christmas Miracle! The Jeep healed itself and started right up. My brother-in-law sent me to NAPA with a parts list. I spent the morning of Christmas Eve under his tutelage and under the hood of the Jeep, giving it a good tuneup. My hair kept getting caught in the wheels of of the creeper and I ended up with approximately 1/4 of the motor oil in my oil pan in my hair.
FYI, use dish soap when removing motor oil from long hair. Regular shampoo will not work.
I got lectured about how worn my spark plugs were, how much corrosion was in my distributor cap, how the oil looked like molasses, and how the battery terminal cable was probably falling off every time I went over a bump. My BIL did not buy my story that the guys at Jiffy Lube must have backdated the oil filter.
The best part of the trip was Christmas morning. My sister had warned me that she wouldn't be getting me much for Christmas, which is fine. She usually has her husband help her out with buying Christmas gifts, but since he was still paying off medical bills from when she ran over him with the golf cart, she wasn't about to ask him for any Xmas cash.
Imagine my delight, then, when just like the parents in "A Christmas Story," my sister and BIL told me there was one more gift that wasn't under the tree. They brought it out, and there it was, my own version of a Red Rider BB Gun:
You see, one day this summer my sister was visiting me when I was putting new steps on my deck. I threw one of my two shitty drills across the yard when it refused to work. Contrary to popular belief, apparently I WAS a good girl this year!
And yes, it's entirely possible I will put my eye out.
2 comments:
Come to the virtual NYE party at Chez Pez - and more likely, I'll see you this evening.
Damn girl, I'm impressed.
Years ago, I accused my brother of losing my drill in his rental house. So he bought me a new one for Christmas. Then the old one mysteriously showed up at Mom & Dad's in a closet. So now I have two. But they are both corded. I'm envious.
Happy New Year!
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