On pickup trucks, vans and the indignities of aging

Gas Hog

Wednesday morning.  I have today and tomorrow to get my safety inspection done on the van, affectionately known as "gas hog".  Gas Hog is a 2005 Dodge Grand Caravan that has served us well in the last decade as we made the move down here, and is still running well enough that I don't want to trade it in for a more fuel efficient model. 
My other vehicle is a 1995 Chevy ½ pickup truck that usually gets less than a thousand miles on it a year.  It is also a gas hog, but not nearly as bad as the van. I don't really need a pickup these days, 'less it is to haul a skunked doggie to the groomer.  The van will haul almost as big of things as the pickup.  

But owning a pickup is a visceral thing.  A man is only half a man without a pickup in his driveway.  I have to keep what is known as a trickle charger on it to keep from buying a battery for it every year.  The trickle charger puts out a very small current, about ½ of an ampere, and allows the battery charge to "float" at full charge until I am ready to use it.

Ain't she purdy?
Most of the time the bed is full of tools that are being used for whatever the current projects are.  Right now, the current project is removing limbs from the trees that were heat stressed during the relentless droughts we have had over the past three years.  I don't have to put the saws and such away, I just leave them in the bed of the truck until the project is over.   

Next month is its month for the yearly inspection and registration, and I'll clean it out before taking it to the inspection station.  A man who has a cluttered bed in his pickup has a cluttered mind. The State of Texas knows the deep seated need for men to own pickup trucks, and taxes them at about half of the value of a new car.

Snookums is pushing the big green trash bin out to the curb for the Wednesday pickup.  She brilliantly decided to take the dogs with her.  Two puppies with minimum leash training, and an older dog that is valiantly holding on to her status as alpha female.  Linda moves the bin 20' … untangles the dogs, then another 20' and untangles the dogs.  It is 280 long feet (80 M) out to the highway.  Do the math!

The exam is not finished
The annual digit in the rectum day went flawlessly this year.  The blood sugars are all in the target range, the cholesterol is good, the heart beats at a strong resting 70 beats.  A tad high, but still acceptable for a sedentary old man.

And finally, the weather.  A brisk 45° (7C) greets us today.  The killer storm blew off to the north of us.  I heard a smattering of rain last night, but the porch railings are all dry as is the ground.  It probably wasn't much help to us.  So this week I need to put deep watering the shrubs and trees on the calendar.  It is good to get out to help shake the winter blah's, the seed catalogues are calling to me, challenging me to more work that I wish to perform.  But some things you just have to do because they need doing.

Good morning!


1 comment:

  1. Good Morning. Glad you survive the dreaded finger! That Pickup makes for a great traveling tool chest doesn't it! Sorry to hear the rain missed you. But then so did the tornado!


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