Once upon a weekend — Tempest in peril

Time for a little catching up — more by topic than chronology. But the weekend got off to a rough start, to put things mildly.

My loyal, trustworthy ‘66 Tempest died on the way out of town to pick up Liz, so my brother screamed over from Fort Lewis and I was able to pick her up at about 1 a.m. Thursday. Her ATM card also died and all three of us managed to be sick.

Landen came back out Saturday, about half-way through our adventures both good and bad. He helped me push my car four blocks to a car parts shop. They wouldn’t help, so we push around the corner with Liz driving so we can run one side up on the curb and climb underneath. I don’t own a jack.

By now, the rattle that made me stop the car has killed everything. No starting, turning over, clicking — nothing. My dad is on the phone, but he doesn’t have any answers. We give up and watch the basketball game.

We continued the weekend driving around our family’s spare truck. That came with it’s own adventures. We also took in some good movies and food. Liz saw the coast and Tom Cruise Day. More to come.

Today the auto repair shop tells me I’m screwed. It’s more complicated than that, but that’s really what matters. Fixing this will be expensive and complicated. Only time will tell if the Tempest shall ride again.