Of course I’m serious…


DSC_0133My husband is readying his derby car for the County Fair next week. That means I’m spending long hours in the shop with him but please don’t make the mistake in assuming that I’m doing anything constructive. I can typically locate tools, nuts and bolts that are randomly scattered about the shop and that’s about where my mechanical skills end.

I am pretty good at making parts runs though I must admit that those poor guys at Witt Boys in Limon see me coming and must hope and pray that I have the necessary part names jotted down. Otherwise, I’m asking for the “yellow deal that goes on the thing with the valve that hooks on the gun whatchamacallit.” Bless those poor guys. They know I’m asking for a hose for the air compressor. They’re good.

We just returned home from a long evening in the shop working on the 1964 Mercury derby car. It’s green and yellow. That’s about all I know about it.

DSC_0131Our conversation consisted of phrases like, “Rachel, my darling bride…might you please hold the light a tad to my left?,” and “Rachel, fair, sweet, Rachel…it appears that the gas line is leaking. Might you be able to locate the drip?,” and “Shucky darn, Rach…might you be able to sidle up to the bench and fetch the electrical tape?”

All of these phrases were nearly sung to me in the sweetest of tones. The wiring never smoked, no wires were tightened into nuts, the fuel pump worked the first time, the headers bolted right to the engine and the manifold weren’t bent. A tear came to my eye when it was time to leave though I’m sure I’ll skip to the shop again tomorrow. Whee!

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