Yep, I'm home, after driving my ole Saturn 99 wagon for two whole hours with no breakdowns and no new strange noises.
It's like I have my wings back. I felt like I was one of those characters with a broken wing in a cartoon about birds. The bird looks longingly at the sky as the others fly high above him. Sometimes he has to hitch a ride with his lady bird. Sometimes he and the lady bird get into an argument over just whose damn time it is to fill up the gas. And finally, the healing is over.
I'm lucky in two regards here. One, my father-in-law is a retired military mechanic, and, two, he's incredibly charitable with his time.
The whole screwed up story: After my car broke down, I took it to a shop, where they diagnosed a cracked engine block, and had pretty much written the car off as salvage. My father-in-law, hearing my wife discuss the symptons over the phone, calls that a bunch of hooey. Two weeks later, my car is back, working better than before the problems started. (His diagnosis: Something wrong with the head gasket, and replace the radiator.)
There is only one payment for such a man. And that would be cookies. And about $300 and change for the materials and such.
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