Cars, parts, and... Spinning wheel?

Dad and I go to a car swap meet, and it's for "classic and older" vehicles, as a rule.  Even if the stuff I grew up with and drove is now 'classic', a-HEM...  !

Anywho, it's a swap meet in name and in reality. I have seen someone come up to another vendor and talk about X vehicle they have, and they noticed that said vendor has parts for it, would they trade for a Y part? 

And it's not just car parts, it's whole cars, in one section.  And frames, and bodies of cars.  I have wanted to build an electric car with a 30's vintage coupe body.  I haven't decided how that's going to happen yet, but I have seen some nice looking ones from time to time.  Oddly, it's easier at the moment to find the body that I am looking for, than the electric motor... Meh.  Not a hurry...

There is a whole section that is reproduction parts, hot rod parts, tools, and... One person that sells dolls, patches, china, and glass wear.  They had some nice milk glass, but I didn't really have a place for it.  Another sells metal signs, from reproduction antique signs, (Red Crown gasoline signs, as well as Studebaker Garage signs were popular), to more modern ones, (Man Cave, for Men doing Manly things, in a Manly way!)  

Another area is where all bets are off.  You can find, well, darn near any garage sale type item, if you look hard enough in this section.  My Uncle and a friend of his had a booth, and were selling kid cars, like the kind you pedal.  All the way from a 20's-30's vintage pedal car, to a Weinermobile! 

A friend of mine was there, looking for specific car parts.  And everyone knows this, as he has a wagon, that he put a Conestoga type cover on, and made a matching apron/tunic, that says WANTED
X CAR PARTS with his phone number at the bottom.  He gets more trading going in that place than sold stuff, on occasion! 

Another of my friends was selling stuff outside, you bring a table and chair and go for it... He had not a great many parts on his table, but we saw him at the end of the day, and I think perhaps, (hope, anyway), that he'd sold most of it.  He is restoring a vehicle, it has been quite a bit for him to get it roadable... 

So, we were in the area with all the miscellaneous 'stuff' and I realized there was a spinning wheel.  Hmm.  I looked, and it was more or less all in one piece.  I think it might have been a usable wheel, but it was pretty iffy looking, and it was one that struck me as being "barn fresh"... Let's just say a lot of items smell of dust, mouse, and, um, less desirable odors.  I didn't bite, having more than one wheel, and I need to repair one, and get the other working, so I really didn't need to take a chance on yet another one, even to repair and sell... Just guess I am getting picky.   They had table lamps, and chairs, and probably enough other items to fill a nice (dated about 1970's) apartment, if you were in a pinch.

Another guy had made skeleton hands from bolts and nuts, and painted them white, and hung them on a Model T steering wheel.  Unfortunately,  if someone started to pick up either the hands, or the wheel, they would dump over onto the table.  It lead to some jokes about, oh my, you broke it, 1000 bucks, please.  Most of them laughed, and put things aright, quickly.  I really think they would be great for door knockers at Halloween! 

I really saw a lot of things, but didn't buy much... 5 magazines is all.  Not even car mags, but the lady was selling crafting 'stuff'. 

But, I did help Dad with a purchase he made.  He bought some tires for his 1930's truck, and I didn't really feel like having a tire roll, all the way back to the car, especially when some of the folks a driving don't seem to register that a parking lot isn't a speedway!!!  So, since I had my walking stick, I set the tires upright, and stuck the stick through, Dad grabbed an end, I grabbed an end, and we carried it between us to the car. 

It was quick, easy, and amused the heck out of the locals!

Daddy Daughter doings.

Dad's mower was on the fritz.  He had taken off the wheel and hub, and asked if my husband could take a look at it.  He did, and a conversation ensued which I basically gathered, one of the axles is bad, we need to do x.

Not being able to assist much, I went into the house, so I wouldn't drop his Father's Day present.  Husband and I found him a 24 hour clock, with day, date, temperature, alarm... Pretty much think it could make coffee, if we found the right plug in.  Hee. 

Anyway, Mom and I were talking, and the guys come in.  Husband says he's going back to the house, and would I mind staying back and helping Dad get the tractor ready so it can be driven up on the trailer. 

Well, sure.  Hey, it's Father's Day, and I can have time with Dad?  Works for me...  We go out and I realize that I have on a light gray shirt. 

Urk.  Well, that's why they make cleaners, right?  So, we start working on getting the wheel lined up, at first I was holding the trouble light, then I started helping adjust the wheel while Dad worked with the jack so we could line things up.  Then we found which tools we needed, and after a minor boo-boo on my part, ratchet was backwards, and I was REMOVING the bolt. 

A-hem. 

A quick click, and we were good to go.  Adjusted the bolts, and chatted about when I was in high school auto shop, and about some times I had to take my car to a shop, as I had no place to do work on it myself.  The dingbat at the shop had tightened the bolt so tight, he'd nearly stripped them, and used an air gun to do so.  It was a charmer trying to get them OFF again... Sheeesh...

So, we got the wounded tractor back on it's way again, and soon enough Husband showed up, and they loaded up his tractor.

Dad and I both mused, that was a good day, we'd not done that for a while, and it was fun.

And, amazingly, I managed not to get any grease on my shirt!  My hands looked like I'd dipped them in India Ink, but the shirt was fine...

Technology, a breakthrough... So to speak...

Dad called the house phone, and asked if Husband was there.

Sorry, nope.

Oh, well, I need to find out if he needs the red or the green bottle of cleaner.

???  Dad, I've no clue what you are talking about...

For the tractor...

Oh!  (Dad and Husband are repairing Dad's tractor, it had some diesel go bad in it... Not an easy thing to fix, I am gathering, as the various fixing sessions have gone on...)

I don't know.  I think the red, but I am just guessing...

Then I thought about it a minute, while staring at my cell phone... I called Husband, and told them to both wait a minute.  I didn't want to be the 'translator', and took a chance.

I pushed the speaker buttons on both phones, and held them close enough that they would talk to each other, yet wouldn't squeal feed back.

Can you two hear each other?  Yes!  Yeah!

Then the conversation, via two phones held about 2 inches apart.  The hardest part of the conversation was my not giggling at how strange it looked to have two phones blabbing away at each other!  But, the guys were able to talk directly to one another, getting the info quickly, and now I think they have all the parts to get the job taken care of.

Ah, technology, what will it do next?  (However, I think I might put Husband's phone number in Dad's phone... Perhaps it might make it go a little less giggly next time...)

V is for Da da da da da da, VAC MAN!

I was pretty young when this happened, grade school, I think.

We had gone to bed, and it was pretty late, I know I'd been asleep for a while.  Something woke me.  Next thing I know, Mom was sounding upset, and I heard noises in the front room.

I got up, and started to go into the hallway to the front room.

Mom bellowed, "Get back in your room, and close the door!"

I did, but not before I got a glimpse of Dad's backside, naked, running around with the vacuum cleaner, randomly swatting the air.  No clue what was going on, and I was trying hard not to giggle.

As it turned out, we had a bat in the house, and Dad was using the vacuum to chase it down.  I heard thumps, some swearing, clanks, then a "swwwONK" noise from the vacuum.  Then, finally, quiet.

Dad said, "It's still alive, I'll go take it outside."

Mom's reply, "PUT SOME UNDERWEAR ON FIRST!"

Yeah, I lost the giggle battle at that point...

Our family seems to have a problem with males and bats.  My Grandpa was painting his house, and was leaning out to paint the trim, when something came out at him.  His first reaction was to swat at it.  Well, he looked up, and saw a Hunter Green bat flying away...

That animal, I must say, isn't one I have dealt with overmuch.  But I must say, it has made for some funny stories in our family...

O is for oink, hiccup... Snore...

Grandpa used to raise pigs.  I wasn't allowed anywhere NEAR said pigs, as Grandpa was afraid that they would knock me down, or hurt me.  I liked to watch when he fed them, though, I always thought the wiggly noses looked amazingly funny.

Grandpa would also make beer and wine.

One time, he'd made a huge batch of the stuff, and it had been raining.

A lot.

We'd come over to visit, and Grandpa was feeding the mash to the hogs.  One big, aggressive male ate most of it.  Grandpa didn't think too much of it at the time...

Well, a bit later, he went to check on things out in the back, and came in hollering for Daddy to help him.

That great big hog was drunk.  So drunk he couldn't stand, and kept falling into the now soupy muck, and trying to sleep.  The wiggly nose was barely quivering.

Dad and Grandpa tried to roll the hog, lift the hog, several different things, that silly hog was just blissfully blasted, I think you could have set a firecracker off in his left ear, and he might have yawned...  So, Grandpa got a board, and between his lifting, and Daddy shoving the board, they managed to make a high spot under the pig's chin so he wouldn't drown.

A pig's snore is actually quite loud!

Grandpa was admonished to feed the mash in much smaller quantities to the pigs, after that.

D is for dime phone call.

My Dad worked at the local telephone company as a repairman.  He would go out and work on the pay phones.  I would see the phones around town, and chirp, "my Dad put that phone booth in."  I would think it really cool to be riding around at night, and see the glow from the overhead light in the booth, making a friendly light in otherwise dark areas.

He also collected the coin boxes.  You wouldn't think a box full of dimes (and later quarters) would be that big of a deal, but I picked one up, and they are HEAVY.  Dad had to take several of the boxes to the bank.  Most of the time the bank tellers would just open the door, and lead him to the back, where he would lift up the boxes for them to take care of.  He knew when there was a new person, because they would stop him at the desk, and they would take care of it.

Once.

Then the next time, he would be led to the back, where he would do the heavy lifting again...

I liked to watch Dad work on the different parts of the equipment, from the "peds" outside, to climbing poles, to digging about inside the phones themselves.  Once in a while, after I learned to drive, I would see him, and I would stop, and we'd chat, usually he working, while I would hand him tools.  Once or twice, if it was at a person's house, they might come out and ask how long I'd been working.  Feeling mischievous one time, I looked at my watch, and said, "Oh, about ten minutes..."  Laughing, Dad then introduced me.

It's somewhat sad to me, there are no phone booths that I know of in the area.  I wish there were.  While it isn't the regular need that it used to be with cell phones.  But batteries die, phones are not with the person, and there are even those who still don't have a phone.

So there times when they could use a phone... Attached to the ground, or not.