Back to that maple tree I found at the entrance to the neighborhood on Friday. It’s still lovely, for now.
I’m just a big fan of that little batch of red right in the middle of the tree. This guy has character, and I should pay more attention to it through all seasons.
Because I like the smudge of colors in blurry photographs, this is how I’ll wind up remembering the tree:
And because this is my site — my name’s right there on the top, and everything! — here are a few more pictures of that tree.
It has a lot of character.
How can you not love that punk rock red?
Back to my backyard. I’m thinking of making a custom jigsaw puzzle. Would anyone like a copy of this one?
All of those leaves fell out of this maple. Like it sneezed, or brushed some crumbs from its coat.
The evening light on an evening walk. The Yankee has started running in her post-surgical recovery. Next Tuesday is four weeks, and we did an easy mile on Sunday evening.
I spent the rest of the weekend on the sideview mirror right project.
You see, our garage is shrinking, and for the second time my lovely bride has clipped the side with her mirror. The first time, eight years ago this month in our old house, she just shattered the glass, which, it turns out, was easy enough to replace.
Recently, she tore up the plastic mirror assembly. It hasn’t sat correctly since and the power mirror function was ruined. To use the mirror you had to hunch down from your normal driving posture. I wanted to fix this, because I like vehicle safety.
Buying the mirror was the easy part. I found a perfectly matched after-market mirror assembly for $39. It was black. (Her car is not black.) She did not want to drive around with a mismatched mirror. And neither of us wanted to pay a body shop for even a small job.
So I … got to paint the mirror. It started as shiny black plastic. I had to hit two stores on Saturday to find the can eight-ounce can of the matching stuff. I sanded the plastic. I applied three coats of primer.
Then I put on three coats of paint — lunar mist, is what the manufacturer calls it — and too much top coat.
Somehow, this is the first thing I’ve painted since childhood.
I found a seven-minute video on YouTube teaching me how to replace the driver’s side mirror. The length of the video encouraged me, because of course the actual process is much easier after the helpful mechanic over-explains it all. The process requires a flathead screwdriver, a socket wrench and three nuts and bolts.
Now it’s time for the two respective moments of truth. They came at me quick, almost too fast to process, let alone celebrate. First, I kept the glass clean from all of that paint. (I’d also only painted my thumb once, and made three small errors throughout the application process. We’re calling this a win.)
The next big victory was seeing the power mirror action working again. When she hit the garage it severed the cables inside the old assembly. The new assembly, of course, has its own wiring, which is in great shape. All I had to do was plug it into the car. And the mirror moves just as it should.
The paint job, for someone who never paints, isn’t bad. Maybe I’ll try to buff it down next weekend. Right now, it’s safe, and that’s what counts.
And that it matches.
I told The Yankee that I’m saving the old mirror for next time. But, hey, if you have to whack a mirror in this car, now I know how to do it. I built up a great deal of confidence in my ability to do the job.
Which makes me dangerous.
Like her backing up.
I also told her I’m cutting a notch out of the garage wall, like the old cartoons leaving a body silhouette when they went through a wall, so the mirror can pass right through.
