The puppies, damn their happy little souls, went walkabout Sunday morning. They must have found something really neat to sniff up in the hills, and then something really neat to chase up in the hills, because they missed dinner. And then missed breakfast.
Stella, the black lab mix, showed up on someone’s doorstep about five crow-fly miles from the house. Mouse is still at large.
Bridgette & I chatted with the lady who captured Stella for a while, then pile into the car –
– which didn’t start. Without going into gory details, it appears that the starter solenoid is dirty or corroded and sticks part-way through, disengaging most electronic circuits without fully engaging the starter motor. Disconnecting the battery briefly corrects it…usually. Not last night. We finally got our SemiPermanent Houseguest (about whom, another time) to come give us a tow. Then the car started. Two minutes later SPH showed up to tow.
Learned that the problem is the solenoid this morning from a local automotive guru. Ten minutes later Bridgette called; she was stranded by the car, which wouldn’t start regardless of battery twiddling. The solenoid is getting worse, so…tonight I will be taking a nap when I get home, then removing the solenoid in the dark, cold, wet night, cleaning it, and reinstalling it in the same conditions. I am not looking forward to this, but at least I know what to do.
I wonder where Mouse is.
Cinderella called last night, and we spent a fairly rough 90 minutes on the phone. She is not having the most fun ever. I had no fix; I have the same problems she has, to a lesser degree. Bleah. Tomorrow, I will win the lottery, and all these problems (but the puppy) will be moot, and I will stay home and finish my book in the next eight weeks, and begin the second one.
Meanwhile, just for discipline’s sake, I’ll go work on that first book now.
Crossposted from Epinepherine & Sophistry