Since the shop doesn't take reservations, the ritual involves showing up at Omigosh-dark-thirty, and standing in line in the dark, come wind, rain, or snow ... waiting until 0700 when they finally open the door.
In seasons past, I've gotten there as early as 0615, and was already 14th or 17th in line. This week, I've been third in line, twice. Not bad at all, considering.
Then my wife, or now my older daughter, must pick me up & take me to work, where I await a phone call telling me the work is done. Then I must get a ride back to the shop to pick up whichever vehicle is waiting.
On the bright side, the ride is usually with my wife, and we wait until the lunch hour to go ... then grab a bite together before getting the car. That's a nice thing. :)
So this morning, Older Daughter is taking her car there, and waiting in line. I'll meet her there just before they open, and bring her home after the car is checked in.
Then in the spring, we get to do the whole thing all over again. "Seasonal change-over" is part of our lives up here, but sometimes it just gets old. Ah, well.
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Younger daughter is champing at the bit to get to the range, to check out her new rifle:
|17 years old, 5'10", and already a crack shot.|
After she gets off from work this afternoon, we'll give a thorough cleaning to the rifle she's been using (thanks, Jenny!) and get the new toy swabbed out & ready for tomorrow's range trip.
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I need another cuppa, so y'all have a great Saturday. Thanks for stopping by, friends.