Gellin’

I dropped S off at the clinic this morning and the car stalled when I tried to leave.  It would not start, even thought the engine was all “ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya” about it.  Ever so willing, but it was like it wasn’t getting fuel.  If it was one of the old beaters I used to drive as a kid, I would have thought it was flooded.  Or that water in the fuel line has frozen.  Or maybe the timing or compression.

I thought it might be closer to option two – especially since I had less than a quarter tank of fuel.  So while I waited for CAA to send a tow truck, I hoped that residual engine heat that might have been generated on that 3 km drive would melt any frozen condensation in the lines.  But no.  I called two dealerships asking for any tips/ideas.  No help.

So Downtown Volkswagen did a diagnostic to see that the fuel had gelled.  You’d figure a mechanic would look for the simplest or most obvious first, before hooking the diagnostic machine.  $120 to talk to the engine about a problem in the gas-tank?  They removed the gelled fuel in the tank, replaced the fuel filter, put $15 of diesel in there and replaced two burned out signal light markers in my fenders (much to my surprise, they replaced my antenna without a word and without charge).  $500 all told. 

Talk about an expensive lesson.  Must be vigilant in keeping the tank at least half-full in cold weather!

The tow-truck driver was great though.  He tried to get the car started before the tow and again before dropping it off at the dealership.  He also did a fabulous job driving the car down the dealership’s partially obstructed ramp to get it to the service area.  Plus, he suggested I try Peter’s Garage or Peter’s Volkswagen next time.  It might save me from that feeling I have whenever I go to the dealership for service — like I’ve been ripped off by a charming and clever con artist. 

Eclipsed

Yesterday evening, as I was driving S to pick up some supplements from Ottway on the Danforth, the moon hung over the horizon – big and voluptuous, looking at us in that off-centre way she has.  Makes me wonder why moon worship isn’t more prevalent.

The moon is my all-time favourite celestial orb.  Romy gave me the deed to an acre on it a while back, from a company called Moon Land Registry or something like that.  A bargain at $10 per acre.  Of course, other people have purported to sell acreage on the moon.   I guess there may be others who hold a deed to the same acre or parts thereof.  So it’s just down to whomever sets stakes first!

Last night the moon was eclipsed by the earth, totally.  S and I looked at it from the bedroom window a little after 10, when it was supposed to be fully eclipsed.  It was quite dark on the left, reddish orange and shadowed elsewhere but for a thin bit of brighter area to the right.

 

(Pic from Wikipedia)

It was kind of sad to see the moon like this -  dull and discoloured as though suffering a trauma.  It’s like being a kid and seeing your mother’s face after a crying jag.

Fur Bonnet

This morning while walking to work I saw a fashionably turned out woman in a long sleek winter coat.   She was wearing a fur hat, but there was something about it’s shape…. then she turned in profile and I saw that it was a fur bonnet.  A bonnet!  Not one of those fur hats with ear flaps, or those russian fur hats.  This was full-on mennonite-style bonnettry — in fur. 

Man, I love an interesting hat.

All that Deep Deep Snow

Ok – it’s snowing again.  Usually, February in Toronto brings 20cm of snow.  This year, it’s been 70cm so far and we’re not even halfway through.  The slushy snow that had been on the laneway turned to ice Sunday.  So snow on top of that will be treacherous. 

Maybe it’s time to trade in the VW — I can get a pimped out Smart Car (excellent for city driving) and never have to shovel the laneway again.  But are those winter tires?:  

Tasty!

Around last November I was at the Loblaws at the foot of Jarvis where they had mounds and mounds of silver-bagged PC potato chips in flavours like General Tao Chicken and Szechuan.  Interesting, but not interesting enough to get me to buy any.  A couple of weeks later, I was at the Loblaws at Leslie and Lakeshore – where a couple of guys had dismantled the end-of-aisle display where the chips were being sold, putting huge boxes of these chips onto a cart and taking them through the checkout.

It got me thinking “hey, maybe these are good”.

Next time I saw them, I picked up a couple of bags.  The General Tao and the Szechuan were “meh”.  But the Buffalo Wing with Blue Cheese!  What a great tasting chip!  And $1.50 a bag! They started with a medium chicken wing taste, slightly spicy, and finished with a hint of blue cheese.  Perfection.

That said, I didn’t buy any more until recently.  Another bag of the Buffalo Wing and a bag of the Smokin’ Stampede.  The Smokin’ Stampede are just BBQ chips, and taste ok.  But the Buffalo Wing chips outdo BBQ chips in every possible way.  Sadly, the chips weren’t as spicy and the blue cheese finish was weaker in this bag.  Perhaps they’ve already begun “improving” them by making them less tasty but cheaper to make? 

Amazingly, they haven’t upped the price yet.  Although the quantity of bags available in the store is much much less.  Maybe too many people checking out huge boxes of the chips only to resell them for $2.50 each in their convenience store?

Another reason not to join a gym….

We’ve been getting 20cm snows with some regularity this winter.  And as a result, S and I shovel, with equal regularity, our front walkway,  a path through the backyard,  and around 180 feet of laneway (in order to get my car in and out of its spot). 

The laneway is a killer.  And we could probably get away with parking beside crazy lady’s house, instead of all the way behind our own house.  But still, we maintain our right to park behind our house, and accordingly, shovel our little hearts out.  This year, our 3rd winter,  we mostly just shovel out tire tracks instead of the whole thing.  But even that’s a little much when you do it four times in 24 hours!

The first winter I used to happily shovel the walkway in front of the neighbours house while I was at it.  The usual result is that the neighbours pay you the same courtesy when they’re out before you.  Not my neighbours, though.  Although I have occasionally been surprised to find that someone has cleared part of our walkway.

But no one clears the laneway – even the part that is accessed regularly by the other car owners.  They just plow through the snow and hope for the best.  Maybe I’m a chump, but I just can’t imagine flooring it and hoping I don’t slide into a parked car, a fence or someone’s house.

So maybe I’m a chump – but I’m getting an upper body workout without gym fees.

fire breathing dragon

I get 6 fully paid, use-em-or-lose-them,  sick days per year.  Generally, you’re considered either crazy or stupid if you don’t use each and every one of those puppies before the year is over.  Last year I used two of them.  The year before I might have used three.  Overall, the rare times I’ve been sick it tends to have fallen on the weekend.

Today is my 5th sick day so far this year.  One when I returned from my honeymoon and was too tired to speak.  The other 4 were this week (including today), because I’ve got some kind of cold.  Some evil strange cold that will continue on into the weekend even though I’m drowning it in fluids, taking zinc and echinacea, and resting resting resting.  My nasal passages feel like they should be shooting out flames.

So far I’ve cancelled one social engagement (dinner tonight), and will likely cancel our weekend guests.  Drag.

Plus some asshole from Rogers came to do some work on the neighbours cable yesterday, and disconnected ours in the process (I feel a conspiracy theory coming on).  Just as well though – daytime television seems as though it was designed for those with an IQ of 80 (or to transform people into having IQs of 80 — oops, more conspiracy theories).