Chore Day . . .
Today was the first nice day in a while, so I decided to get back on my Lighted Door Handle Repair. I recently found that all 5 screws were loose, and could not be tightened. They just spun. Taking it all apart, I found that it looked like the RV repair place in Prescott had over-tighten them when they reinstalled the handle after the wiring repair for the blowout damage. It wasn’t that way before. They probably used a power driver and got carried away.
I had originally thought about using JB Weld to fill in the holes, and then maybe drill and tap them, but several readers suggested gluing toothpicks in the holes to fill them in. So that’s what I decided to try.
Since I wanted to really lock them in, I wanted to use Gorilla Glue, because it expands as it hardens. Some people don’t like it for that reason, but it was perfect for my use. You just don’t use very much of it. Here’s how I started.
The bowl of water is to dip the toothpicks in before I put on the glue and stuck them in place. Gorilla Glue is moisture activated and one surface needs to be damp to start with.
First off I trial-fitted a bunch of toothpicks in one of the holes to see how many I needed. And as it turns out each of the 5 holes needed a different number.
I wanted the fit to be slightly loose to allow for the expansion of the glue, so I had to use some trial and error to find the right amount. Then I dipped the toothpicks in the water and slung off the excess.
Next I put a light coating of Gorilla Glue on the half of the toothpicks that were going in the hole.
Inserting them in place l left them to set while I did the other 4 holes.
Here’s the ones on top where the light is.
Gorilla Glue normally sets in a couple of hours, but since it’s in the mid-60’s today, I wanted to let them go overnight. But when I did check back a few hours later, I found them rock solid with only a small amount of glue squeezed out.
Looks about perfect.
Tomorrow I’ll use nippers to cut the toothpicks down flush with the side. Then I’ll drill a pilot hole and give it a try.
More tomorrow.
A few days ago I squeezed (and I mean ‘squeezed’) under the rig enough to be able to spray our Power Gear hydraulic levelers with silicone spray to keep the seals lubricated. Next I cranked up the rig and raised and lowered the levelers a couple of times to distribute the lubricant around.
I kept the air bags dumped so the rig wouldn’t try to inflate them, and I noticed that we were still pretty level with the levelers raised. So I decided to leave the rig that way since it would keep all the dust off the newly greased surfaces.
Our rig has the optional switch to dump the airbags when the engine is running and, since dumping the bags drops the coach about 8 inches, I actually used it one time when we were surprised by a ‘low’ railroad underpass on a scenic back road.
Based on the signs we would have cleared it with a couple of inches to spare. But you never know how many times that road has been paved over since the signs were put up, and I really like my rooftop AC’s. So I dumped the bags and carefully drove under, listening for any $$$$ sounds.
Anyway, since we now weren’t using the pads we put under the levelers, I pulled them out today and spent some time hosing all the mud and gunk off them, and then stowed them away in the bay.
Another job done.
Wrapping up, we may have to rethink the whole ‘gate guard’ thing as a way of making money. Why make $150 a day when we could be making $200 an hour. And if we split up, we could make $400 an hour.
But it looks like we’d need a dog. Or two.
When we were visiting New York City in July of 2009, Jan always kept ‘bum money’ to give out as we toured the city. She said that the bums and drunks gave the best directions when she asked.
Of course she had more fun with this ‘New York City Panhandler.’
Actually it looks like they both did.
Jan said that checked another item off her bucket list.
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Thought for the Day:
A Blast from a Past Blog
A Harlequin Romance; 2015 Version
He grasped me firmly, but gently, just above my elbow, and guided me into a room, ‘his’ room. Then he quietly shut the door and we were alone. He approached me soundlessly, from behind, and spoke in a low, reassuring voice close to my ear,
“Just relax.”
Without warning, he reached down, and I felt his strong, calloused hands start at my ankles, gently probing, and moving upward along my calves, slowly but steadily.
My breath caught in my throat.
I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn’t care. His touch was so experienced, so sure.
When his hands moved up onto my thighs, I gave a slight shudder, and partly closed my eyes. My pulse was pounding. I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my ribcage. Then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply.
Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, he brought his hands to my shoulders, slid them down my tingling spine and into my panties.
Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and expectant. This is a man, I thought, a man used to taking charge. A man not used to taking ‘No’ for an answer. A man who would tell me what he wanted.
A man who would look into my soul and say .. . .
“Okay, ma’am, you can board your flight now.”
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