Sunday, January 15, 2006

Friday the 13th

For all you triskadecaphobes out there, here's one to add to your collection of anecdotes to help rationalize your stance.

Our car started conking out on, lessee, Thursday. Dimming lights, battery low, etc. Hans replaced the battery. Nope, not the problem. So he thinks it's the alternator. I call the car vet, we bring it in on Thursday night, we pick it up Friday night. When we dropped it off, we tell them we suspect the alternator, but we're not sure, and could they please check everything thoroughly to make sure.

Friday is an awkward day. No transport, we have to bum rides thither and yon, and because of this we miss Layla Lawlor's book signing at the Comic Shop (sorry, Layla!).

So it was a relief to hear that our pickup was repaired and yes, it was the alternator. So we go down to pick up the truck, asking about the problem and did they check other possibilities, yep. Our first red flag, however, was when we see on the invoice a diagnosis of a problem we had before, fixed, and it turned out not to be the problem at all. A completely unecessary repair. We discuss this. We get a bit of an argument, but it is irrelevant to the current problem, and so we pay and drive away. As soon as we get on the highway, the headlights dim and the battery light comes on. And we can't go back to the car repair place because they just closed, and our ride has driven off.

VERY annoying!

So we limp home, call and leave irate messages at the car vet, borrow a trickle charger, have dinner, and decide that we need to get out of the house. We head down to the Eagle (by this time it's quite late), have a good time, and come home to a house filled with soot. Our Monitor 30 has belched fine black oily soot all over the downstairs, the cats, the desk, the books, everything. So we spend another couple of hours trying to clean it up, and go to bed. I spend all day Saturday cleaning and cleaning and cleaning. The cats are all grey. I completely forget about knitting. I work until I'm exhausted.

Hans comes home (he's working all weekend) and we clean some more. We decide we need to do the laundry, and heck, we'll go out to dinner while it's drying. So we pack everything up and head out. The trickle charger should have given us enough juice to do this, but no. We barely make it to Gold Hill and back.

So we stay home. And I'll be cleaning the house some more today....

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