A seminar on time travel will be held two weeks ago.

Some days it doesn't pay to chew through the straps.

It started out OK except for the 80 grit sandpaper that was my throat. I've been fighting this bug since I got back from Seattle and at some point during the night my body waved the white flag. Will the voice box work tomorrow morning? We'll see.

I got the chores done by 10 and headed out to the garage to tackle the transmission leak. (Gusher.) I'd planned ahead by purchasing a new pan gasket from NAPA yesterday, so I attacked the pan with gusto, hoping that when I got it off the old gasket would show obvious signs of failure.
OK, that's a really messy job that did not go well. I think that pan has been in place since the factory installation 46 years ago. But I finally got it off and captured 90% of the fluid that spilled out.
There were no signs of gasket failure. Nada. Zippo.

I spent the next two hours carefully cleaning the pan and the surface of the transmission where it attaches. That new gasket needs perfectly clean surfaces to seal properly.
That would be the gasket I got from NAPA, the gasket for some other transmission, a gasket the wrong shape and size.

I took it back, the guy gave me an "I dunno" shoulder shrug, and refunded my money.
BUT I NEED A GASKET. Nope, they got nuthin' for me.
From there to O'Reilly's with equal success.
Rock Auto, the online parts store, lists three separate gaskets for this car, make and model. One of them has a picture that looks just like what NAPA sold me. The other two have different part numbers but no pictures. And they're closed until Tuesday.

I have now discovered another site that is not the source of the leak, but unless I can find the right gasket it doesn't make a lot of difference, 'cause you can't even start a car without a transmission pan in place.

Put the hammer down and step back, sir. Step away from the hammer and this can all end quietly.

The lily pond continues to bloom, and we now have six flowers open and more buds just under the surface.

I gotta go get cleaned up and wolf some dinner. The men of Pathway are getting together in a couple of hours for a Poker Night at the Kinneys'. No money, just a lot of bravado and nonsense. We have a travelling trophy and each winner is expected to enhance its appearance before the next competition. Two times ago Reid added battery powered LED lights that put to shame all previous efforts and all those to come. But I'm sure Scott will have done his part for whomever takes it home tonight. (I will not be that person.)
And the wives love this trophy. They all want another of the Pathway women to share in the joy it brings to their home.