For those of you who don't know, there's a car that's been part of our lives, weekends, and garage since early 2005. It belongs to a friend in New Orleans who kindly allowed Brian to take on a new project. Brian has taken the entire thing apart to restore it.
The car has spent a lot of time sitting in a body shop or a paint shop, waiting for busy people to get around to working on it. So it hasn't lived in our garage the entire time. But the pieces are everywhere in our house. Seats in the guest room. Glass in the closet. Dashboard gauges on the kitchen table. Stacks of Mustang magazines and car part catalogs and mechanic manuals everywhere.
Now that the body and paint work are both done, all that's left is to put it back together.
That sentence implies a certain amount of simplicity. Really, there's still some significant stuff left to do, not to mention interpreting a few diagrams in the manual that look suspiciously like Helen's artwork. But everything is (slowly) coming together.
Last week, new chrome trim parts arrived at the house.
They were packed in a not-insignificant amount of bubble wrap. Brian took it apart, set it aside, and later that evening at dinner he told Helen about the "bubbles."
It's now one of Brian's favorite words to get Helen to say. She pronounces it "buh-bullsh."
Any bubble-wrap popping addicts out there? (Mom, raise your hand. Higher.)
Meet the newest one in the family:
2 comments:
You may recall that we bought a BOX of bubble wrap and keep it in my shop, mainly for Mom's time of "need". It keeps her more occupied than any Macintosh ever could.
I am really jealous--she has the BIG bubble wrap! It's better than Valium for the one who is doing the popping. I hear the rest of the folks in the room don't like it so much...
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