Wednesday, November 15, 2006
We brought the van to the mechanic today. The third time in just over a week. Our plan to "swing through" home on our way south has been extended.
"At least you were home."
"At least you didn't break down in the middle of nowhere."
Everywhere we go, we're reminded of our good fortune. The master cylinder sprung a leak on the way to visit the family in Tacoma, not in the Badlands of Alberta or 20 miles into Deadman's Valley, BC.
I'm holding my optimism, in spite of Jack's parting words. We tried the quick and inexpensive fix twice with no luck. With a gentle voice, he prepared us for the worst. "Well, once we take off the head, we'll just have to see what kind of shape the cylinders are in..." Third try. A charm?
Fingers crossed. The appeal of sleeping in the garage (despite it's lovely garden surroundings- thanks Kailin!) is beginning to wear thin.