Monday, February 22, 2016

Oils well that ends well

Car trouble never comes at a good time.

This Sunday we were driving to hockey which is synonymous with Sunday in our house.  The game all the way in St. James, so we zipped around the perimeter.

Very close to the turn off for Portage Ave, our truck got its knickers in a twist.  Bells whooping and lights flashing all over the place.  The truck had lost oil pressure.

We made the turnoff for Portage and limped in to the nearest Shell station.  Brad hopped out and bought some oil.  I was hard pressed to believe that the issue with our oil was due to a lackadaisical attitude towards oil changes.  Brad is religious about car maintenance.

Oil topped up we set off again.  Logan was quite happy with that because it was his game we were driving to.  The idea that he was going to miss his game was making him unbelievable anxious.

But not even 5 minutes into the drive, the dashboard carnival started up again.

Well isn't that just awesome.  We made it to the rink and decided that we would deal with the problem after the game.  Problem was that right after the game we had to book it back to St. Vital for Zach's team pictures and his hockey practice.

Since Brad is a coach on Logan's team it was up to me to figure it all out.  Alright I got this.

First up, we needed to find a way to get the truck to our service station.  Second was getting to Zach's hockey pictures, Third getting home and Forth, finding a way for Brad to get to work tomorrow.

I knew that my Mum and Dad were coming to Logan's game since it was in their end of town.  They had planned on bringing both of their vehicles because Mum had to go grocery shopping after the game and Dad had to go get lumber.  Since neither of them wanted to do the other person's task, they brought two vehicles, which incidentally worked to our advantage.

After Logan's game (which the lost), we put our plan into action.  However... side note coming up.

ATTENTION HOCKEY PARENTS & COACHES - The kid who is reffing the game is 14. 14!  He probably just completed the reffing course,  is still learning and doesn't deserve to be screamed at for missing an offside.  Him missing a single call is not going to change the entire game and so what if it does?  That's sports.  It's part of the game.

The kids playing are all watching us.  If we act like total imbeciles and scream at the kid who it earning $30 bucks to ref the game (which is my opinion is totally not worth it and I can understand why they have trouble finding refs), the kids will think it's ok.  Knock that sh*t off.  Kids need to learn that you can't blame a loss on a bad call.  Some days it will work in your favour, other times it won't.  Get a grip.

Ok, rant over.  Here was my glorious plan.  Since the truck was running (albeit having a tantrum), Brad was going to drive it to the mechanic's place.  My Dad would follow in his truck in case our truck completely blew a gasket on the way.  During the game, I had made a phone call to see if he could borrow the store van.  That way he would have a way to get to work in the morning.  Sweet. After they dropped off our truck at the dealership, Dad drove to Brad's work and Brad picked up the store van.  
It was a good plan, although we very quickly ran into a bit of a snag.  My mum drives this pumpkin orange two door chevy cobalt.  It's the most awkward thing.  The enormous doors at like huge pendulums which mean you need a huge clearance when you park somewhere or you aren't getting in the car.  The back seat is super wee.  The trunk is a pretty decent size, but the opening isn't very wide and there inlies our problem.
Everyone makes fun of hockey mum vans, but there is a reason they drive them, especially if you have more than one kid.  Hockey bags are enormously awkward.  They are a rectangular cube that is wider at the bottom than the top.  We tried to fit Zach's bag in the trunk with the narrower end in first.  Nope.  Then we tried the wider end in first.  Another nope.  Sideways? Yeah... no.

Well isn't that superb.  Next attempt consisted of trying to mush it into the backseat by pulling the drivers seat forward.  Which somehow sorta worked.  We then had to finagle his two hockey sticks in there.   Shortly thereafter we realized that Zach had to fit in the backseat as well. Oops.  We managed to turn the bag upside down with the wider end up and the whole thing pushed to the side.  It gave Zach enough room to get in... sorta.

We made it to the team pictures with loads of time to spare.  In the meantime, Brad had dropped off the truck with no incident and went to Diamond to get the van.  Earlier on when I spoke with Jo, Diamond's driver, she said that the keys were in the top drawer of the office desk.  I had told Brad that, but he couldn't find them.  He called me to inform me of that particular fact.  

Now agreed, this was my plan  but there is only so much I can do.  In this particular situation, there was nothing I could do.  I mean seriously.  Ok honey... did your try the top drawer?  Not there?  Ok did you try the bottom one.  Good grief.

In the end, he found the keys.  Jo had told me that there was quirk to the van in that the driver's side door doesn't open.  You have to go around to the passenger side and hop in that way.  I  might have neglected to tell Brad that little tidbit.  Oops.

He did figure it out eventually though.  Mum and Dad went on their way and Brad picked Zach and I at the rink.  It was extremely well orchestrated if I do say so myself.

I got a call from Brad this morning (while sitting a home in my pajamas... gotta love taking Monday off) that it was a faulty switch causing the problem. $450 for a freaking switch.  Le sigh.  We have been lucky (relatively) with the truck.   We went a good 6 or 7 years without having to do  any repairs and at some point, repairs are inevitable.  The few repairs we have had to lately haven't been too bad.

We are back to functional again.  So I am going to grab another cup of coffee and settle in for some hard core relaxation.  

See you Tuesday.








0 comments:

Powered by Blogger.