Welcome Spring

It's been a busy weekend of spring cleanup in the yard and my genius Taxman getting the '53 Chevy running again. He let me turn the key. He did that out of pure terror that I might not have a 'good experience' and he wanted that not to happen again. You see, back in the fall when he decided to take the motor out of the Chevy, all by himself, without letting me or anyone else help or watch or cheer, he just did it. This may not seem like a big deal unless you understand the circumstances.

I'm a very involved garage wifey. I love motors and things. I don't do motors and things, but I do love watching in amazement. So I was very involved in all the pre-engine removal stuff, including waiting for the new big 'lift' that he ordered, to arrive on a semi. The engine-lift, that is, and I certainly was excited about seeing it work. Getting a motor out of an old car is exciting, right? Well, it is to me. So every weekend we would talk about how it was to happen, how the lift might or might not work, who would help, and when. So one day, I opened the garage door from the house, stuck my head out and chatted with the genius for a minute. "Oh," I said, "You've got the motor attached to the lift, that's good, so it won't fall out while your disconnecting bolts/mounts and things." "Yep," was his reply. He's a man of few words, you see.

Two minutes later, while I'm just inside that door vacuuming, he comes in and says, "You might want to come out and take some pictures. I've got the motor out."

I'm still mad. I admit it. I'm not perfect. It was a MOMENT that cannot be duplicated. I was so mad I couldn't see straight but I could yell. I kept yelling at him over and over again, "Why couldn't you have told me when I stuck my head out the door, that you were about to 'lift' the engine out?" You know what his reply was? (not genius)

He said, "I didn't know it was gonna come out."

I guess it just hopped right out. It happens.

So, you can see why he let me turn the key. (and it started on the second turn, nice!)