I must say, it was an absolute joy to drive the Jeep without fear or worry. I had to promise Hubs that the next time I think there's something wrong with my vehicle, I will make him listen to me. You would think he would already do that, considering this is the third time this has happened.
The first time, I told Hubs that there was something wrong with the Lincoln I'd been driving. I told him it was vibrating really badly, that my butt was going numb. He told me it was probably a bubble in the tire, until he drove it. Apparently something really important like the drive shaft, but not the drive shaft, had broken. I drove that car all the way to Wappingers and back to Hyde Park like that. To this day he says he doesn't know how that car kept running.
The second time, I was sitting in my car, at that time I was driving a Nissan Stanza. As I sat there waiting for someone, I felt a thunk, and the sound of the engine changed. It had been humming, and after the thunk, the hum was lower pitched. I mentioned it to Hubs and again he blew me off.
Until one night, I had to drive him to the E.R. because he had burned his eyes while welding. Since he could only listen, he noticed the change in the engine sound. The next day we went to the drub store to get the meds for his eyes. He sent me in, telling me he would check the engine while I was in the store.
When I came out, he was sitting in front of the store in the car, all grim faced and staring ahead. I got in, and asked him what he found. We drove directly to the garage, where he told me that an engine mount had broken, and the engine was falling out of the car. He fixed it and it wasn't a big deal to fix. But I was hoping he would learn from that and listen to me when I tell him something is wrong with my car.
With the Jeep, I had asked him more than once to drive it, maybe he could tell what it was from a test drive. He has mad diagnostic skills. But I was unsuccessful. Do you think that maybe he will listen to me in the future? Only time will tell....
I realize this post may repeat old stories, and I apologize if that is so.
Showing posts with label car trouble. Show all posts
Showing posts with label car trouble. Show all posts
Friday, February 7, 2014
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Almost got it all done
It was THIS close..... Then I ended up sitting on the side of route 9 after pulling out of the Stop n Shop plaza. It seems my brake problem had decided to come back. The right front brake is seizing or something. Hubs told me before that when it happens, I should pull over and let it cool off, then it should let go and after a while I can drive some more.
That's what happened the day it took me three hours to get home from Fishkill. I had to stop three times to let the brake cool off. Thank the Goddess that yesterday I was close to home, and only had to stop the one time. I only had to wait a half an hour before trying to drive the rest of the way home. I made it!!
While I was sitting there waiting, I got a call from my son James. He told me that he had gotten a call from a friend that I was on the side of the road, so he called to see if I needed help. That was so sweet. I told him I was just waiting for my brake to cool off. It really didn't occur to me to call anyone for help, I knew what to do. I mean, my kids are all grown up and busy with their own stuff. And my Hubs will fix it the next day (today). So in the morning, Hubs took me to James and Jessica's house so I can watch the kids, and then he came pick me up afterwards. While I was gone, he fixed the brakes.
On a positive note, I got some knitting done in the time I was sitting there waiting for the brake to cool off. See? That's why I always have either my nook, or my knitting with me. Sometimes both. You never know. It's almost gotten to be a superstition with me. If I go out without at least one of those things, something bad will happen....
In fact, I thought the brake had a problem because I had taken the extra skein of yarn out of my bag. When I started knitting, I thought I was almost out of yarn. But I was wrong, there was plenty left.
So yesterday I got almost all my errands done. I just wasn't able to get to the pharmacy. But I have plenty of that medication and don't need it yet. I can pick it up another day.
That's what happened the day it took me three hours to get home from Fishkill. I had to stop three times to let the brake cool off. Thank the Goddess that yesterday I was close to home, and only had to stop the one time. I only had to wait a half an hour before trying to drive the rest of the way home. I made it!!
While I was sitting there waiting, I got a call from my son James. He told me that he had gotten a call from a friend that I was on the side of the road, so he called to see if I needed help. That was so sweet. I told him I was just waiting for my brake to cool off. It really didn't occur to me to call anyone for help, I knew what to do. I mean, my kids are all grown up and busy with their own stuff. And my Hubs will fix it the next day (today). So in the morning, Hubs took me to James and Jessica's house so I can watch the kids, and then he came pick me up afterwards. While I was gone, he fixed the brakes.
On a positive note, I got some knitting done in the time I was sitting there waiting for the brake to cool off. See? That's why I always have either my nook, or my knitting with me. Sometimes both. You never know. It's almost gotten to be a superstition with me. If I go out without at least one of those things, something bad will happen....
In fact, I thought the brake had a problem because I had taken the extra skein of yarn out of my bag. When I started knitting, I thought I was almost out of yarn. But I was wrong, there was plenty left.
So yesterday I got almost all my errands done. I just wasn't able to get to the pharmacy. But I have plenty of that medication and don't need it yet. I can pick it up another day.
Monday, October 15, 2012
The First Adventure
I loved my 1970 Pontiac Le Mans. It was maroon, with a black vinyl top. I had gotten it at the end of my first marriage, I needed transportation to get to work. I think I paid $300 for it. It was a really good car, it had the body style of a Chevelle. Sharp! I named him Sting.
I don't remember how I discovered it, but somehow, I found that once the engine was started, I could pull the keys out of the ignition, and it would keep running. So I got into the habit of starting the car, pulling the key out and putting it in my purse or pocket. At some point, I also discovered that I didn't necessarily need the key to start the car! I could get in, and turn the ignition, and it would start. After experimenting, I found that it seemed to be time related. I found that if it was less than eight hours since I last used the car, I wouldn't need to use the key to start it up again. If more than eight hours, use they key, then take it out. I know, very strange.
This was the car that I had when I met my Hubs. It was about four years after my divorce that I met him. While we were still dating, the car developed a really bad banging noise in the engine. I took it in to the garage where Hubs was working, and he took a look at it. It turns out that the fly wheel had broken! Since the car was so old, even at that time, it took a long time to find a junk car that they could get the fly wheel from. Eventually they found one, and it was able to be fixed.
But I didn't have it very long after that, for my birthday that year is when Hubs got me a different car. I don't remember what it was, a Mercury something, and it got crashed shortly after we got married, less than a year later. He took the engine from that car and out it in the Lincoln.
And that is the last car story I have. So far. I am currently driving the Jeep Wrangler that my beloved Hubs got me for Christmas about eight years ago.
As far as crafting goes, I am still sporatically working on the handle of the bag to be felted. I have also started knitting a simple baby washcloth from the cotton left over from the border of the cotton lace blanket.
I don't remember how I discovered it, but somehow, I found that once the engine was started, I could pull the keys out of the ignition, and it would keep running. So I got into the habit of starting the car, pulling the key out and putting it in my purse or pocket. At some point, I also discovered that I didn't necessarily need the key to start the car! I could get in, and turn the ignition, and it would start. After experimenting, I found that it seemed to be time related. I found that if it was less than eight hours since I last used the car, I wouldn't need to use the key to start it up again. If more than eight hours, use they key, then take it out. I know, very strange.
This was the car that I had when I met my Hubs. It was about four years after my divorce that I met him. While we were still dating, the car developed a really bad banging noise in the engine. I took it in to the garage where Hubs was working, and he took a look at it. It turns out that the fly wheel had broken! Since the car was so old, even at that time, it took a long time to find a junk car that they could get the fly wheel from. Eventually they found one, and it was able to be fixed.
But I didn't have it very long after that, for my birthday that year is when Hubs got me a different car. I don't remember what it was, a Mercury something, and it got crashed shortly after we got married, less than a year later. He took the engine from that car and out it in the Lincoln.
And that is the last car story I have. So far. I am currently driving the Jeep Wrangler that my beloved Hubs got me for Christmas about eight years ago.
As far as crafting goes, I am still sporatically working on the handle of the bag to be felted. I have also started knitting a simple baby washcloth from the cotton left over from the border of the cotton lace blanket.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Further Adventures of the Mechanics Wife
It's a few years after yesterday's story, and I had a different car. This one as a Nissan Stanza, and Hubs had taught me to drive a stick in this car. He was a really good teacher.
One day, I drove a co-worker home from work; we worked at Jamesway Dept Store. As I sat there, watching to make sure she got inside her apartment OK, I heard, and felt, a minor clunk. With the clunk, the tone of the running engine changed. It had been running at a higher pitched hummm, and it changed to a lower pitched hummm.
But the car seemed to run OK, and when I got home, I mentioned it to Hubs. Of course, he blew me off. But I persisted. Then one day at work, he got some metal shards embedded in his face. I don't remember what happened, something shattered, I think. His boss, Paul, called me to tell me that Hubs was hurt, and I came right away to take him to the hospital. On the way, he could finally hear that my engine didn't sound right, since his eyes were closed.
Later that day, as we drove to the pharmacy to get his prescription filled, he told me to go in and get the medicine, he was going to take a look at the engine.
When I came out, he was sitting in the driver's seat, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. He had a very grim look on his face, and was staring straight ahead as I got in the car. I asked him if we were going home now, and he said no, we are going to the garage. I tried very hard not to be sarcastic, and asked him if he found anything. Without looking at me, he remarked that the noise I had heard was an engine mount breaking, and that the engine was falling out of the car. The difference in the sound was caused by the strain put on the engine as it hung there.
I was silent as we drove to the garage, but inside I was saying "Nah nah, nah nah nah nah!" And once again, the wife knew something was very wrong, and the Hubs wouldn't listen. These car adventures are actually the second and third ones. When we met, I had a 1970 Pontiac Le Mans. Tomorrow I'll tell you that story!
P.S. there was no permanent damage to Hubs' face, they got the bigger pieces out, and told him the smaller ones would work themselves to the surface and come out on their own. The worst one was a piece of rust that stuck into his eye. That's why his eyes were closed on the ride to the hospital.
One day, I drove a co-worker home from work; we worked at Jamesway Dept Store. As I sat there, watching to make sure she got inside her apartment OK, I heard, and felt, a minor clunk. With the clunk, the tone of the running engine changed. It had been running at a higher pitched hummm, and it changed to a lower pitched hummm.
But the car seemed to run OK, and when I got home, I mentioned it to Hubs. Of course, he blew me off. But I persisted. Then one day at work, he got some metal shards embedded in his face. I don't remember what happened, something shattered, I think. His boss, Paul, called me to tell me that Hubs was hurt, and I came right away to take him to the hospital. On the way, he could finally hear that my engine didn't sound right, since his eyes were closed.
Later that day, as we drove to the pharmacy to get his prescription filled, he told me to go in and get the medicine, he was going to take a look at the engine.
When I came out, he was sitting in the driver's seat, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. He had a very grim look on his face, and was staring straight ahead as I got in the car. I asked him if we were going home now, and he said no, we are going to the garage. I tried very hard not to be sarcastic, and asked him if he found anything. Without looking at me, he remarked that the noise I had heard was an engine mount breaking, and that the engine was falling out of the car. The difference in the sound was caused by the strain put on the engine as it hung there.
I was silent as we drove to the garage, but inside I was saying "Nah nah, nah nah nah nah!" And once again, the wife knew something was very wrong, and the Hubs wouldn't listen. These car adventures are actually the second and third ones. When we met, I had a 1970 Pontiac Le Mans. Tomorrow I'll tell you that story!
P.S. there was no permanent damage to Hubs' face, they got the bigger pieces out, and told him the smaller ones would work themselves to the surface and come out on their own. The worst one was a piece of rust that stuck into his eye. That's why his eyes were closed on the ride to the hospital.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Adventures of the Mechanic's Wife
Maybe someday, my Hubs will pay attention, and take it seriously, when I tell him that there's something wrong with my car. Case in point:
I had a Linclon that he had bought for me, it was silver. It had a vinyl roof, that had tears in it; it looked like Freddy Cruger had tried to get me, and I'd gotten away just in time. One day, I was out by Sylvan Lake, where his mom and stepdad still lived. I got in the car, and shortly after starting out, the car started shuddering hideously. The vibration was horrible. I drove as far as my mom's house, where I stopped to use the phone and call my Hubs.
This was in the long ago times, before we had cell phones. Hubs was a mechanic back then. He told me that it was probably an air bubble in one of the tires, that can cause a vibration. I insisted it was more than that, this shuddering was really bad. He told me to drive it to the garage, in Hyde Park, and he would take a look.
My mom lived on Wappingers, and it was at least 20 miles to the garage. I got back in the car, and drove off. By the time I got to the garage, my ass was n.u.m.b. It also took much longer than the usual 40 or so minutes, since I discovered that the faster I went, the worse the shuddering got.
I finally pulled into the garage parking lot, and went inside. Hubs took my keys, and took the car for a test drive. He wasn't gone more than 30 seconds. He came back with a very grim look on his face. Apparently, he thought I was exaggerating the vibrations.
He pulled the car directly into the garage, and right onto a lift. As he found out when he actually looked at it, the drive shaft was broken. Let me repeat that: THE DRIVE SHAFT WAS BROKEN. You would think that might teach him to listen to me, but no. For tomorrow's installment, I have another car related story!
I had a Linclon that he had bought for me, it was silver. It had a vinyl roof, that had tears in it; it looked like Freddy Cruger had tried to get me, and I'd gotten away just in time. One day, I was out by Sylvan Lake, where his mom and stepdad still lived. I got in the car, and shortly after starting out, the car started shuddering hideously. The vibration was horrible. I drove as far as my mom's house, where I stopped to use the phone and call my Hubs.
This was in the long ago times, before we had cell phones. Hubs was a mechanic back then. He told me that it was probably an air bubble in one of the tires, that can cause a vibration. I insisted it was more than that, this shuddering was really bad. He told me to drive it to the garage, in Hyde Park, and he would take a look.
My mom lived on Wappingers, and it was at least 20 miles to the garage. I got back in the car, and drove off. By the time I got to the garage, my ass was n.u.m.b. It also took much longer than the usual 40 or so minutes, since I discovered that the faster I went, the worse the shuddering got.
I finally pulled into the garage parking lot, and went inside. Hubs took my keys, and took the car for a test drive. He wasn't gone more than 30 seconds. He came back with a very grim look on his face. Apparently, he thought I was exaggerating the vibrations.
He pulled the car directly into the garage, and right onto a lift. As he found out when he actually looked at it, the drive shaft was broken. Let me repeat that: THE DRIVE SHAFT WAS BROKEN. You would think that might teach him to listen to me, but no. For tomorrow's installment, I have another car related story!
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