This Morning

George (not his real name) cam over this morning.  HH, George and I (I got to work the jack) installed the Lavarda engine in the frame.

George with one of his bikes pictured below.

Happy January

There are slugs outside.  I see one smashed all over the front entry; a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  The survivors are happy because there are lovely crocus blossoms to eat.  Happy slugs.  The crocus look happy, too.

The Laverda has mostly left the guest room, where it was taking up the entire bed and floor as well as the blanket chest at the foot of the bed.  It's not all together yet, but an amazing amount of progress has been made.  The engine went from this

(Isn't it lovely?) to this

in a short time, but only short since HH started the reassembly process.  It's been quite a while since he took it all apart and got it all pretty as these pictures attest.  He claims he had to redo some of his work because he'd forgotten how it went together, and the manuals and his photos were lacking in details, but he's pretty sure he's got it right now, and even started it with the starter motor.  What larks!  Happy engine.

Old Cars Remembered

Avus posted about his cars, and HH pointed this out to me, so I'm posting about mine.  HH says he never saw a Morris Minor convertible, but I remember the gorgeous one I saw while on a family visit with my parents and brothers in Oakland, California in the 60s.  It was on the downtown streets hauling men in suits around the Kaiser Building--with top down.  I saw it briefly, but pegged it as high among my favorites.  Here are photos of one of my Dad's Morris Minors that my brainy brother Bill drove to university.  My brothers and I used to all three ride in the back seat with Mom and Dad in the front, and it was a tight fit for sure.  Now the brainy brother has a Morris Woody or two, but they're in some storage barn waiting for the mythical Someday. 

My second car was a beauty, as seen in the photo at right.  Like the first only spiffier.  The first one Dad bought for me.  It was three colors, a Volkswagon-burnt orange red with a white top and a blue right hand door, which opened on it's own schedule, usually when making a left hand turn, but not when the passenger wanted to exit.  Another exciting feature was the rain it collected on the floorboards which sloshed back and forth with the use of brakes and gas pedals, and always made me laugh, especially when maneuvering out of a parking place.  Everything on this second car worked, except the defrost, so when it was icy out, the window had to be down with the scraper in hand working like a window wiper.  It just wasn't made for ice.



One more car, a 1960 Jaguar MKll.  Dad bought it in the early 60s while I was away at camp and drove it to visit (and show off).  I saw it parked and ran to get my little brother Stan to show him the beautiful car parked in the alley.  He was very pleased to tell me it was Dad's.  When I went to the tech school in town Dad let me drive it.  Years later, HH said I could have it and we made Dad an offer, which he accepted.  This photo was taken while it was still Dad's car.  That's his Porsche on the other side of the Jaguar.  Brother Bill bought the Porsche and has it still.  We sold the Jaguar to pay medical bills when DD was born.  It went back to England, but was fun while it lasted.