The bike is running, and looks like it’s gonna be fine.
Sunday I went to where it’s brother was parked in a DUMPSTER, and snagged a lot of spare parts, including the whole electrical harness, the engine, all the electronics, gauges, cables, wheels. Discovered that what was causing it to run erratically was a loose connector, and resolved that, now it starts in seconds and runs out nicely. I’m gonna probably have to buy some tires but otherwise I still have less than $100 invested.
I’m sick to death of this.
Used to be, or at least it seemed it used to be, that there was a bunch of winter, that I used to have to frigging walk through on my way to school, then there was thanksgiving, then Christmas, then some more winter, then spring.
Now there’s snow. No snow. Snow. No snow. Freezing cold but no snow. Snow. Cold, cold, warm, cold. snow, no snow. Cold, warm, warm, really warm, snow, no snow. Six inches of snow, snow, no snow. How about it could maybe be fall, then winter, then spring, then summer? This bites big hairy goat ass. Oh, and don’t even get me STARTED on my got-damned heating bill.
Good to have that weekend behind me. Emotional shit, that.
An aside about Dad’s favorite meal: Mom HATED sauerkraut. Hated it so much that she fed it to him damned near every day for a year. Sauerkraut, mashed potatos (dad liked ’em a bit lumpy) milk gravy. He’d make a big pile of taters on his plate, smoosh a big crater in them with his spoon, slap in a big dab of kraut in the crater, douse the whole deal with milk gravy. Stir it up. (When I was a kid, I loved it too, I called it ‘stir it up’. Hell, I thought that’s what Bob Marley was singing about) Anyway, Dad was in heaven. He thought he’d married his blue fairy godmother. Mom grew more and more disgusted at the whole ordeal until she finally said “Marion, don’t you ever get tired of eating that crap?” The answer, apparently, was no. Mom went back to cooking other things, but dad still ate until the containers were empty whenever Mom made his favorite dish.
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