floored

  There is nothing that gets me going more when I'm behind the wheel than the guy ahead of you taking his sweet time going down the road. It's like they live in a different world, by a different set of rules and have no concept of time commitments. Makes me just want to sit back, giggle and wonder at the gangly/awkward beauty of it all.

 My grandfather once told me when I was a wee lad that time went faster the older you got. As a young impressionable boy who doted on his every word, this stuck with me, despite the fact that it made absolutely no sense. I mean everyone knows that there are 60 seconds in a minute, 60 minutes in and hour, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Einstein's theory of relativity proved that time (and space-for the record) is a constant, so I always assumed grandpa was just yanking my chain.
Little did I know...
 As I look at the calendar, there are 6 weeks to grey Owl, 9 weeks to Ann's Grad (where she has requested that Fillmore be her limo) with all but 2 weekends booked with dance and volleyball. With so much to get accomplished, time is flying by........oh, wait!... I get it gramps...my bad!

It is time to lay flooring on the drivers side, which means it is time to trim the floor to where I need it to be.

After an unsuccessful attempt at taking numerous measurements to create an elaborate cut out piece for under the kitchen counter. I remembered what my high school shops teacher Dan Tapley told us. If in doubt, make a paper template and test fit it. Much better.

 The beer helped too...

 As I toiled away, making seemingly painfully slow tortoise like progress, my 15 year old changed the plugs, filter and oil in a 1970 Datsun 240Z that we are charged with keeping safe and sound.

 I'm not sure if he realizes that not every kid has those skills, but I keep quiet aside from a conservative 'well done' and a gentle slap on the back.If I expressed my true pride,  I am sure all I'd get in response would be a very well executed eye roll followed by a dismissive "whatever!"