It's Not As Scary As It Looks

This is a Hemi diesel engine.  More specifically, this is the Hemi diesel engine on our truck.  No, I'm not going to be talking about cooking steak on the engine block.

It is old.  It is a diesel.  It requires maintenance every week.  We could either take it to our lovely mechanic - it's very own mani-pedi appointment - or I could learn what to do.  How hard could it be, right?

Well, aside from possibly getting an arm chopped off or electrocuting myself, but what doesn't have a little risk?, it's actually pretty easy - and they even put little pictures in the engine.

So - my Dear Honey has been going over (and over and over) the maintenance routine and here is my first time checking it all by myself.

Today we're going to do the first part - we check the transmission fluid level.  

This is the fluid that has to be in the truck so it has the power to drive.  The whole motion thing.  If your transmission is broken, you aren't going anywhere.  Ever.  It's really expensive to replace the transmission.  One of my friends is a transmission expert.  He has a very very very nice house.  I don't want to be the one restocking his coy pond this year.  I'll check the fluid.

This has to be done with the engine running and the transmission in neutral.  This one is the most dangerous because you have to stick you arm into the engine area when it is running - and there is a big belt roaring around and the whole truck is shaking (because it's a diesel and they do that) and there are 2 batteries filled with electrical charge.  So don't wear any loose scarf or dangly necklaces and pay attention to what is going on when you do this.  

Just be cautious.  And focus.  You can do this.

That's the dip stick for the transmission fluid.  It says "trans fluid" on it (even though it is shaking because the engine is running).  Just reach in and pull it straight out.  It's about 3-feet long.  Wipe it off with a clean paper towel, put it back in. And pull it out again.  This gives you a clean reading.

If you just pulled it out and looked at it without "resetting" it by the wipe/dip, you would get a bad reading because all the fluid in there sloshes around while you drive and some of it gets further up the stick then it would if the truck was just sitting in the driveway.  Even if the engine really shakes when it is just sitting in the driveway.

Look at the level of the fluid.  It has to be between those bumps on the dip stick.  It usually says:  Add--->|XXXXX|<---Full  The object being to get the fluid in the "XXXXX" spot, not below - or there's not enough of it to lubricate whatever part it should lubricate.  And not above, or there's too much pressure and one of the plastic gaskets that seal the metal parts together will blow out.  Since this is not a finely tuned high performance racing engine, we are not worried about being a little over.  Since this is an old vehicle - we are definitely worried about being under.

My fluid level here is low.  I added 2 cups of transmission fluid down the little opening where the dip stick goes in.  

My Dear Honey says I shouldn't say "2 cups" because this is not baking, it's automobile maintenance and everything in automobile maintenance is in quarts (as in "hey Joe, give me a quart of oil, she's looking a little low here.").  

So I'm going to translate that into automechanical-ese.  "I added a 1/2-quart of tranny fluid.  Put 'er right in the reservoir.  She should be good for a week or so, but I'd keep an eye on the mileage there."

See?  It's all in the lingo!

Unfinished Business

I have a weakness when it comes to the fiber arts - knitting, crocheting, tatting, weaving - oh just anything to do with those luscious fibers.  It can't be helped.  I stay purposefully away from yarn stores in hopes that I won't pick up and new yarns.  But sometimes, fate intervenes.

It starts innocently enough.  Doesn't it always?  A rich cabernet wool for a simple dog sweater with a few cables thrown in for interest.  I just have to finish the leg cuffs and bottom ribbing.

A soft creamy boucle for a scarf.  Just a few more feet and edging and it will be done.  It's a nice project for when I'm not really looking at the stitches on the needles.

But the obligations get in between me and my project.  A baby set.  Christmas gifts.

Mittens for my sister.  I just have to finish the thumb and sew them up.

Then a pretty yarn just is gifted to me.  I was  honestly going to let this sit untouched until I finished my current projects.  I know how easy it is to get out of control.  But the lavender and periwinkle blue flecks cried out to be turned into a sparkly lacy stole.

In college I had more yarn and planned projects than I could complete in a lifetime.  In knitting circles this is known as SABLE syndrome.  Stash acquisition beyond life expectancy.  You just buy yarn and plan your projects, but soon you realize there is not enough time in your life to knit it all.  This means that you should stop buying yarn.  Immediately.  I couldn't do it.  I couldn't stop.  So I did the only thing I could do to stop the madness.  I gave it all away.  Every last skein.  Every last ball.  To friends, to charities, to anyone who even glanced in its' direction.  Everything gone.

And I made a promise to myself.  I would only buy what I would use and I would finish projects before starting another.

Maybe it was because it has been a few years.  I thought I could handle it.  Sure, I was few projects behind with the dog sweater needing to be done.  And the scarf - should I really consider that being behind, or maybe I should just look at it like an ongoing whenever I need something to knit project.  Like a dear friend, it would always be there for me.  I had to put the mittens on hold - my girlfriend was going on maternity leave and I couldn't just not make her something.  Right?

But then the lavender scarf.  I had no intention of starting that.  It's just that I was reading this little tiny blog which may have had some knitting in it... Okay! It is the Yarn Harlot blog.  I didn't mean to start, but it was just too good to stop reading.  And those yarns.  And the clothes.  I couldn't stop.

She made a scarf.  She said it only took 2 days.  It was so pretty and seemed so simple.  I would like a scarf in two days.  It would just be a little break from the mittens - which only need a thumb and sewing up.  So I picked up the lavender virgin wool.  I started knitting.

I didn't really like the way it was coming out - so I made some changes, added some beads.  But I was just going to spend two days and whip it out.

But then there was this fabulous Cascade 220.  Free!  From work!  And it was only right that I make the project that the other ladies are making so I can show them a finished piece.  It just needs sewing up and some embroidered decorations.

And there was this dusky orange-rose left over from the knitting group.  No need to let that go to waste, so I had to do a project out of that.  It just needs some sewing up.

And there was a bit of the orange and some of the yellow left over, so I thought I'd just turn it into an afghan.  Little squares.  So easy to make - and quick.  It won't take long.  Maybe just a simple Piet Mondrian design.  Clean, simple, modern.  How long could it take?

But when I looked at my office this evening, I knew the truth.  No matter how I tried to hide behind the "it's almost done"ness of all of the projects.  The truth is that this can turn ugly very fast.

So I'm stopping here.  I will finish my works in progress before I start anything new.  Except those few baby sets, but they're already planned so it really doesn't count.  And it's not like I can ask the mothers to stop being pregnant for a few months while I catch up on my knitting, can I?

So just those few things.

And that's all.

Yup.

Of course I'll need to go to the yarn store to get the baby yarn.  And maybe a skein of blue would highlight that yellow in the Piet afghan?

Superbowl Sandwich

It's Superbowl Sunday and that can only mean one thing - steak sandwich!  Ronnie says his sandwich is better than mine, but I give you this succulent savory sandwich to savor.  There's no way his is better.

Fresh baked rye bread toasted with roasted garlic and olive oil.  Porterhouse steak grilled to perfection and sliced - it practically melts in your mouth.  Caramelized onions, sauteed mushrooms, filled with flavor.  Melted fresh mozzarella cheese filling in all the nooks and crannies.

It was good.

And my Dear Honey's team won!  Go Giants!

Full of (Hot) Air

You see this?  This is a tire.  And that little black thingy there?  That's the stem where the air goes in.  It should have that little cap on it that keeps dirt form getting into the stem and clogging it up.  I'm sorry, I just couldn't hold it back any longer.  I had to say something.  It may seem harsh, but it has to be said.  You *can* check the air in your tires.  All by yourself.  It is possible.  

You just have to unscrew the cap from the stem.  The green gardening gloves are optional.  I find them the perfect accessory for checking the air in the tires, because, well because the truck is green.  And I like to be all matchy-matchy when I'm being all mechanically inclined.

That's the cap off of the stem.  The stem is nice and clean and shiny.  Don't lose the cap or your Dear Honey just might have heart failure - or darn close to it.  Of course, if you do lose the cap, you can always get some more at the auto shop, your mechanic, the gas station, the hardware store - basically any one of those shops that your Dear Honey doesn't mind going to when you go shopping.

Just put the cap on top of the tire while you check the air.  That way you won't drop it.  You'll know where it is.

Take your air pressure checking gauge and insert it onto the stem.  When it is on all the way, you won't hear hissing air pouring out.  I have a nice digital one that talks to me.  I like it better than the stick ones, because I don't need to have my glasses on to get a reading.  Simple is good.  My pressure is low, but that's okay - it's not too bad.  I should be at 45 though.  That's what my mechanic told me when he put the tires on.  Winter pressure 45, summer pressure 50.  Higher in the summer because we carry the watering tank on the back.

Put the end of the air compressor hose onto the stem.  Hold it firmly - and again, there shouldn't be any hissing.

Squeeze the handle for the air compressor and air should start flowing into the tire.  I count slowly to 10 and then check it with the gauge again.  I keep doing that until the pressure is correct.

See?  45.0  Perfect.  

I am no mechanic, but I think that one should know how to check the air in one's tires.  And if, in a pinch, it is necessary to fill them with some air, one should feel confident that they could do so.  So if you are out shopping miles from home and you get out of the store and look at your car and it seems a little tilted because one tire is much much much lower than the other 4, you could go to a gas station and fill it with air and drive home.  At which point, your Dear Honey could figure out what happened and what needs to be done to fix it.  But you would be able to handle that emergency - with maybe only a phone call (or two).  

Not that that ever happened to me...okay, it did.  But it was many years ago.  I've come far since then.  My friend even let me check the air pressure in his tires once.  

That's him - #12, 4th from the front - the little orange one!  I got to "man" two tires during the hot pit lane stops (the one right next to the actual track) and check the air pressure during a race at Lime Rock Park.  Sometimes you just have to jump in when fun comes calling.  Terrifying and exciting to be so close to cars going nearly 150 miles per hour!  

His car was a bit more complicated than the truck - with the whole, get it wrong and he could die thing going on.  But it was mechanically the same.  Push in the gauge, read it, add or subtract air to get to the right number.

He's still alive, by the way.  The pressure was good.

22 Women

Today 22 women gathered together to learn from each other.  They took an hour out of their busy day at work, turned off their phones and set aside their email.

They gathered around a single table - both executives and secretaries - with a single goal.  Learn how to take a ball of yarn and turn it into a square of fabric.

And I got to teach them.

There was a lot of chatting and laughter.  Some of them had knit or crocheted when they were little girls.  They had learned form their mothers, grandmothers, aunts and friends.  Most of them had forgotten most of what they had learned.  All of them wanted to give it another try.

I was happy to be asked to help teach.  I thought it was going to be just a dry little lecture and a lot of hands-on knitting and crocheting.  But I got much more out of this gathering.

I got to hear the stories of when they first learned.

A woman recently learned from her mother.  She carefully cast-on a pot holder under her watchful eye and knitted each stitch.  Always focusing on the stitch at hand.  Making it the best stitch she could.  When she paused and looked at the pot holder, she discovered much to her chagrin (and her mother's amusement) that her little square was actually a misshapen triangle filled with holes.

Another woman read a book where one of the characters would just whip up a new sweater (don't you love those books!?).  Thinking it couldn't be that hard, she looked up knitting on the web and started a scarf - a few months ago.  It was almost a rectangle.  More of a curvy wavy squarish...well it was almost a rectangle.  She thought that she could use a tip or two from a live person.

One woman had watched her mother knit for hours at a time when she was a little girl.  She never actually knitted herself, but she remembered her mother.  Her eyes misted up as she told me how she would watch her, mesmerized by the needles and yarn flowing through her mothers hands being transformed into a sweater, scarf, a hat.  Her mother has since passed away, but just casting on and knitting a few stitches brought those memories back for her.

It didn't really matter to anyone what they end results were.  They just enthusiastically wanted to give it a try and see if they could do it.  And they did.

By the end of the hour each and every new knitter had cast-on and knitted a few rows of their project.  I was touched by their enthusiasm and joy over their accomplishments.

And I'll always remember their stories - and how my mother taught me when I was a little girl.

Thanks Mom!

It's Groundhog Day!!!

It's my most favorite day of winter - Groundhog Day!  It's a day of hope.  As in - I hope it will be very cloudy in the morning so Punxsutawney Phil won't see his shadow.  As in - I hope there won't be very many ice storms this February.  As in - I hope the bulbs won't come up too soon and turn into little green icicles (again).

I spend the week leading up to Groundhog day looking for signs of spring.  This year I found a great one on the streets of Manhattan.  It's a little blurry because of a stiff wind coming up off of the Hudson, but do you see it?

Those five little leaves on a rose bush.  A tinge of red at the base of the green new Spring growth.  It's hope on a stem.

Sure, Manhattan is about two weeks ahead of our bucolic manor when it comes to the seasons warming up - and two weeks behind when it comes to cooling down.  So seeing these little leaves making their way out of the bud-state and into sunshine seeking little rose hands of happiness definitely gives me hope.

And that's why I love Groundhog Day!

Natural Lace

I love the lacy look of these branches against the morning sky.  They remind me of Elizabethan blackwork like this from the Manchester Art Gallery.

Which reminds me of lacy scarves like this from chemknits.

Which means it's time to stop knitting mittens and start knitting lace.  

But I think I'll wait until tomorrow for the official announcement from the groundhog.  Here's hoping for a cloudy morning!