Blatheration

You may be wondering what a man about town like myself, a man of means and a pillar of the community drives.  A question like that would not be asked by those who know me because those folks would know that I rarely drive.  Not because of any interest or desire to conserve vital natural resources or to keep Mother Earth from imploding, but because I am a Cheap Bastard.  Also, because I insist on working on my own vehicles.  Ergo:

The sleek Better Idea from Ford in 1971.  Shown exactly as it appeared when I pulled it out of a neighbor's back yard where it had been hiding for several years.

The original owner's offspring had "grounded" him from driving just for veering off the road a few times.  Anyway, it's mine now.

It came with exactly 2 options:  Oilbath air filter and in-the-bed spare tire mount.  Those are both being dispensed with.  After it's painted no more than 23 days from now (Do you hear me Ed?) I will begin the upgrades.  Scattered about town are all the necessary parts to make this just like a new truck.  Add ons include Power steering and brakes, auto-matic transmission , factory air conditioning and fancy pants integral bed tool box.  Take that 2009 Dodge Ram.

The engine is a bored.020 1966 model 390 4 barrel from a galaxy and will have a proper camshaft and rebuilt heads.  Combine that with a 3.00:1 rear axle ratio and drum brakes and it looks like it will be a real exciting ride.  Stay tuned.

Last post of the year.

For the record:  Mrs. Grumbles wishes to no longer be known as such.  She is heretofore to be known as Miss Sunshine.  So be it.  Also, my Major Domo, Aunt Bea has decreed that since today is a holiday, she will show up for work wearing "blue jeans".  I will retain my standard attire of purple paisley smoking jacket (silk, of course) and stylish crimson fez.

So Miss Sunshine and her young son Fang are now permanent residents of our fair city.  Having failed to pay adequate Tribute for use of Fort Doclee, they were forcibly exiled to the far reaches of the subdivision.  They now have their very own domicile, complete with mud, plumbing problems and inadequate heat, as required by city code.  Welcome to home ownership.  Heh.

Mrs. Doclee and I finally were able to meet Vicki from Chicasha and her long suffering husband, Coach Dad.  I owe Miss Vicki a great debt of gratitude, for without her valiant efforts, I may have had to endure an entire combat tour without toasted marshmallows.  Also giant Billy Banana magnets.  Thank you again Miss Vicki, sorry for running out and sticking you with the tab. Better luck next time.

To the commenter from yesterday:  Who are you?  I have narrowed it down to either Beam Builder Billy, who denies any such action, or Mr. Kilowatt, who is currently out of the country and unavailable for comment.  Are you the one who sent the cigars?  If so, you are my friend.

Before I forget; 20 years ago  today Mrs. Doclee and I were lawfully wed in front of witnesses.  So there.  She was so beautiful stumbling down the stairs.  And elegant, too.  She even put out her cigarette when the JP started the ceremony.  She didn't even get that angry when I spilled a beer into her new purse.  Happy anniversary Mrs. Doclee.  Thanks again for the towel, Larry.  Cheapskate.

Did you really miss me?

Where have I been?  Where have YOU been.  You don't call.  You don't write.  Do you know how worried we have been?  Don't you even care?

Oh alright, I accept your apology.  The thing is, it's been busy around here.  Not the kind of busy that allows the purchase of a new car because you gave your car to your daughter because she wrecked hers, but more along the lines of busy because your "charming Victorian home" will collapse around you if you don't do something NOW.

Next time someone comes in here and tells me how wonderful these old houses are, I'm going to spill the beans on the whole home ownership scam.  Curse you Lowes. Thanks you Allied plumbing.

At least Mrs Doclee has her new kitchen table (post oak legs, white oak skirt and a lovely spalted maple top with cherry breadboard ends).  And new cabinets. And a new pantry. And a new ceiling. And new cupboards. And a new floor. And new countertops (lovely spalted maple). And an island with a butcher block top (also spalted maple). And a range hood that blows delightful cooking odors outside.  

I know what you're thinking.  Spalting is a term used by us professional woody types to describe wood that is partially rotted by various types of mold.  Kind of like wooden cheese, I guess.  Anyway it's expensive as heck to judge by Ebay asking prices, but we didn't know that when we bought a truck load of it from a local sawmill for $0.55 per board foot.  If Mrs. Doclee ever remembers where she put the camera, I will post some action photos.

The car collection has been somewhat thinned.  Gone are the Internationals, the Falcon and the Triumph.  The only remaining vehicle is the awesome '71 Ford F-100 Sport Custom with the legendary 360 V-8 and optional oil bath air filter.  There are 

pictures of it in the vast holdings section on the left of this page.  It is undergoing transformation now and will be a thing of (more) beauty soon.  Stand by for updates.

Okay, now that we're all warm and fuzzy together, make sure you come back by.  I expect to resume quality blogage daily, except when traveling to horrible frozen places like Wisconsin, but that isn't for another two whole days