The Price Was Right

What do you do when you've been waiting all day to work on your car, and at 8:30 pm you discover you have six bolts but only five washers?

You punt.

The hole took two minutes to drill out, and the penny is the right size.

Sure, I could wait until tomorrow and buy another washer, but I've been itching to get the new running boards on the Bug. Besides, I think using a penny is fun...

Turns out the running boards came with mounting hardware, so my trip to Ace Hardware seemed unnessary. But one of the provided washers was too small. Thankfully, I had a penny with a hole in it.

Who says pennies aren't worth anything?

As Seen at Dollar General

Sometimes when the weather is nasty (like today) and we're both Bubble Guppied out, I take Charlotte shopping at the Dollar General store. Unlike Goodwill, it's clean. But like Goodwill, you'll never know what you'll find.

Maybe I should take this to school. I work with a lot of un-happy butts.

Tales from Community Cookbooks: Manly Edition

"The manly art of knife-throwing"? That's an awesome example. 

By far, this is the manliest cookbook I have ever found. I feel like I should do ten push-ups before I even open it. 

"The Storz Brewing Company was located at 1807 North 16th Street in North Omaha, Nebraska. Established from a company started in 1863, Storz Brewing began in 1876 by Gottlieb Storz and was owned by the Storz family until Arthur C. Storz Sr. sold the company in 1966. It went out of business in 1972. According to the Omaha World-Herald, "The Storz brewery pumped out 43 million gallons of beer a year and produced one-third of all the beer sold in Nebraska in 1960." wikipedia

Here's Arthur. 

Let's zoom in for a closer look.

Mr. Storz is drinking a beer, holding a smoke, grilling steaks over an open fire, and wearing an apron featuring a cook trying to kill farm animals. Storz even makes that chef hat look kinda cool. And let's not forget that he also owns his own brewery. In 1949 you couldn't get manlier. 

Health risks aside, I want to be that guy. Sadly, I can't. But thanks to Arthur C. Storz, I know how to properly serve a beer. 

 Again, let's zoom in for  closer look.

Finally, someone has given me permission to NOT do the dishes: Just rinse the damn thing, and put it back on the shelf. Soap is for sissies. 

I have no clue who Shelton is, but I like any man who puts two bacon layers in his baked beans. 

So, what does this cookbook suggest I eat with Shelton's baked beans?

Thanks, dude. I'll take two.

After dinner I'll practice my knife-throwing skills.

Drum Roll, Please

Ladies and gentlemen, the change jar is now (mosty) empty.

My Powerjar Jackpot?

Not bad at all.

But what's with the junky dollar bill? That looks like the change I get from the lunch ladies at school. It's bad enough that I get cut off by a 15-year-old while I'm trying to get a "tri-tator", but then I have to take as change the wadded up dollar bill I just watched him pull out of his pocket as his dirty Kleenexes spilled onto the floor?

High school cafeterias: even their money is gross.

Hey Big Spender

Like you, I didn't win last week's Powerball prize, but that's okay. I'm guaranteed to win the "Powerjar Jackpot".

One of the first things I do when I get home is to empty my pockets and put whatever loose change I have my change jar. (No pennies, though. They take up too much valuable space.) It's a habit I've had since I was a teenager.

The container takes about five months to fill, and I get a kick out of seeing how much "free money" is in there when I take the change to the bank.  I know this isn't really free money, but since it doesn't show up in any of bank accounts, it feels free. Actually, it feels better than that. Since this money was painless to save, it feels guilt free when I spend it.

How much do you think I have in here?

I'm guessing there's about $100. By today's standards, that doesn't seem like much money. But I first learned about financial planning in high school. Back in the 80's, $100 could buy a lot of cool stuff. For some reason, $100 still seems like a big sum to me. It's my monetary mullet.

Sometimes I blow my winnings on an old book I normally wouldn't buy, but I'm pretty sure this particular jar is full of used VW Bug parts. I'm curious to see how many things I can get with a C note.

Time to go to the bank.

Farmer's Market 2013

It was well over 65 degrees at 9:00 this morning, so we took Char down to the Downtown Farmer's Market. We sure got more (and less) than we bargained for.

First we met up with a gang of puppies who there to promote the "Paws and Effect" Service Dog People Jog.

Then we spotted the Iowa Cubs mascot, Cubby Bear. I wanted to get more of Cubby in the picture, but Char was too excited to stay in one place very long. So, here's Charlotte and Cubby's belly.

Daphne spotted a stand that was selling wheat-free banana cakes for $1.50. That seemed like a pretty good deal until she bought one. I've seen bigger cake samples.

We then left the market to go see the Police, Firefighter, and Rescue vehicles that were on display for the public.

Char got a sticker from the Sheriffs Department.

She was able to peek inside a real fire truck.

She took a police cart out for a "spin".

She climbed inside the Life Flight helicopter.

And we don't know how she managed it, but she got herself buckled in, as well.

We finished up our vehicle exploration after a quick sit in Des Moines Police Humvee.

In all, Char earned three stickers for her bravery.

But as we were leaving, Daph spied this sticker on the ground.

Holy cow! I didn't know there were tools of the Devil clowns walking around the market. That's my cue to hit the road. For me, "I Hugged a Clown Today" translates into "I Crapped in My Pants Today".

I think a pack of hugging clowns running around is way worse than a flesh eating zombie horde. Just look at that sticker. Even his hands are creepy. It's like he has too many fingers or something.

Char, it's time to go home.

Bug Update: Let's Get it On

Now that the weather's warmer, it's so nice to be able to open the garage door at night and get back to work on the Bug. I was able get a few projects done over the winter, but metal doesn't seem very cooperative when the driveway is covered with snow.

Two weeks ago I was able to wrestle the rusty door off the car.

Char loves to play in "Dad's Bug Car", and she was excited about the new open door policy.

Last week work on the car ground to a halt as I fought with a 103 temperature and the worst sore throat I have experienced as an adult. The pain was so severe that one swallow of water could take my breath away. By the time I felt better, Charlotte got sick. She didn't have my throat troubles (thankfully), but it took four days for Char to shake her fever. Getting sick is a so much harder when you're a parent. It doesn't matter how bad you feel; you have to parent anyway. Then your child gets your cold, and your parenting job gets ever harder. 

Staying home with a sick little girl can be pretty stressful, and I really needed my garage time to help me unwind. Char's bedtime is still around 8:00 PM, and within a half-hour I was out there plugging away. 

I spent two evenings trying to get the door to align with the car's body lines. To the naked eye, the door hinges looked like they were in great shape, but the door would always swing too high or too low. I enlisted Daphne's help, but her ideas met with the same results. It was pretty frustrating. To solve the problem, I cut a square of aluminum out of a SpaghettiOs can, and made a simple door shim that would slightly push the bottom hinge out. That might sound crude, but you can't see the shim, and the door now correctly fill the gaps.

After the door was hung, I swapped door locks so my key would work. I then buffed out the paint with some rubbing compound and finished it off with basic car wax. I think the color match is pretty good, but I'm colorblind.

Back in December I was disappointed that the "new" door's chrome strip had been damaged during transit.

I removed the trim from my old door and used that. It's a cheap fix, and I like that there's still a little piece of the old door on the car.

Once the door's outside was looking better, it was time to move to the inside. The previous owner had punched a hole in the door panel for a junky speaker, the backing board was warped, and the vinyl was torn and loose.

After removing the door handles, I popped off the panel and vacuumed out about a pound of Californian road grit.  Since Beetle doors are basically metal shells with primitive mechanics, I lined the inside of the door with sound deadening material (the silver stuff). Instead of a tinny "click", the door now closes with a satisfying "thunk". I think I'll go ahead and line the passenger door, too.

For now I'm using the original door panel. It isn't perfect, but this panel looks far better than the other one.

Whew. After two decades I finally I get to say "Goodbye" to these rust holes.

And that feels pretty good. 

Botany

On Tuesday afternoon I was puzzled to see a shot glass on our kitchen island. Then I realized that Charlotte and Daphne were back from the park. 

What a Bargain!

This morning I received an email from Nick Jr. alerting me to a great sale at the Nickshop concerning Bubble Guppies merchandise.

I just don't know what I'll do with all my savings.

Rawwwrr!, but...

On Sunday Char was really excited to go to the Science Center of Iowa to meet Sue the T-Rex, but she wasn't so sure when she saw her up close.

The gals tried to roar like a T-Rex, but I couldn't get a pictured timed right.

Grandma Deb would have liked to come, but she asked Char to say "Hi" to the T-Rex from Grandma, instead.

Actually, Char thought Sue was okay, but what she was really excited about was the Small Discoveries room.

I tried to leave my mark in the giant pin screen, but five seconds later Char pushed my face in. Typical.

Char was intrigued with the Plasma Globe, but it was too hard to secure a spot.

This video clip seems to be of nothing, but you have to wait for it.

Christmas in May: 7th edition

Once again, on the first weekend in May, we traveled to Coralville, Iowa for a Christmas lunch with Daphne's family at the Iowa River Power Restaurant. And once again, Grandma Gay had the restaurant prepare a chocolate covered strawberry display. 

Charlotte didn't care for the chocolate on her strawberry, but she loved playing with her second cousins and running around the bridge behind the restaurant.

I just like taking pictures of the fruit.

Story Material: Part 1

With apologies to Mary Ann Hoberman...

When I was little, my mother would return home from her visits to Minneapolis with a bag full of tee shirts my relatives had outgrown. Unlike the tough skinned jeans they sold at Sears, these shirts were perfectly broken in. Pulling one over your head and down your back was like being given a familiar hug from an old friend. And because they bore exotic words like "Eden Prairie" and "Lacrosse", they also seemed wonderfully foreign. I'm pretty sure this is when I began my love affair with old clothes.

I don't think there is anything more comfortable than a grey athletic tee. It's wearable relaxation.

Typically, I don't wear shirts from road races I haven't run, but I think it's okay to wear this one because it's a training shirt, not a finisher's shirt.

I'm always excited to find shirts that reflect my love of Des Moines and its past.

I think old Dam to Dam shirts are particularly cool.

Since it's May 3, and there's almost two inches of snow on the ground, I'll throw this one in, too.

I bought this sweater in a Sioux Falls Goodwill store when I was 16.  It has lived in with me through three dorm rooms, two apartments, a townhouse, and a condo. Currently it's at our house in Daphne's closet. Whenever she wears it, I say, "Hey, that's my old sweater."

She always replies, "I don't know what you are talking about." And then she leisurely walks away.

Yet another hair band whose career was cut short by Nirvana, I like to think this Bullet Boys shirt was purchased at a concert by some kid wearing a long mullet and acid washed jeans. I hope he yelled "Wuff, Wuff, Wuff" like Arsenio Hall when the band took the stage. 

I think I have an idea about that one.