Monday, June 28, 2010


Before we could start work on Daisy's restoration, we wanted to make sure she was legal.  She had been shipped down from Michigan and we were anxious to do the necessary paperwork to make her a legal Texan.

Having done this before with Peaches, our Model A Coupe, we didn't think it would be any big deal.  Roger gathered up all the paperwork and headed downtown to the vehicle registration office late one Friday afternoon.  Everything moved along pretty good until they needed to know how much Daisy weighed.  Roger told them when he registered Peaches, they looked that information up in a book.  Well, it seems they could no longer find "the book."  Roger was going to have to take Daisy to the public scales to be weighed.  By this time it was after 5:00 so he made plans to do it on Saturday.

Roger is not an early riser.  By the time he got up and got around on Saturday morning,  it was almost 11:00.  The feed store that had the scales closed at noon.  No worries.  An hour should be plenty of time.

After a few false starts, Daisy fired to life.  She hiccuped and sputtered as they back out of the driveway.  I waved goodbye and tried not to worry when it sounded like gun shots as they drove down the alley.

Over an hour later I heard them coming home.  I stepped in to the garage just as Roger got out from behind the wheel.  His hands were shaking,  his hair was standing on end and his glasses were askew.  I took one look at his pale complexion and knew he had a story to tell.

Seems Daisy was running a little jerky, at best, so his plan was to take it easy and baby her all the way to the feed store.  That worked pretty good.  The only thing that went wrong was the radiator cap came loose somewhere around Sunset Mall and radiator fluid was sloshing out everywhere.  Roger pulled over, got out and tried to tighten it back up.  Considering he didn't have any tools with him, the fact he was now headed toward the feed store with the south end of a quail pointing the way didn't really bother him.

They got to the feed store with just a few minutes to spare when he was informed he was at the wrong feed store.  Roger jumped back into Daisy and pushed her a little harder this time trying to get to the correct feed store before noon.  Daisy sputtered and spewed and hiccuped and backfired, but, lo and behold, they made it about 5 minutes before noon.

Roger felt pretty good when they left the feed store a few minutes later with Daisy's weight information in hand.  They hadn't gone very far when Daisy backfired like nobody's business and died right there on one of the busiest streets in our town.  Roger tried to start her.  No luck.  He tried again.  No luck again.  People on the sidewalk started yelling at him, offering him their help.  Others walked out of their businesses and stood gawking at the little, yellow pickup sitting dead in the middle of the street.

Just as Roger was about to call in reinforcements.......that would be me......Daisy decided she had a little bit of life left in her after all.  She let out a big burp and started to purr like a kitten.  Roger didn't hesitate.  He waved to the crowd and gave them the high sign then he put Daisy in gear and sped away.

There was one more stop to make before heading home.  Daisy needed gas.  Roger kept his fingers crossed he would be able to get Daisy started again after filling her up. He pulled into a gas station, hopped out, unscrewed the gas cap and started pumping gas.  Within seconds a crowd descended on him, all of them curious about Daisy.  Roger did the best he could at answering all of their questions.  He sang the praises of the Ford Model A,  all the while praying silently Daisy would start again and not embarrass him in front of the curious onlookers.   Thankfully, she sparked to life on the first try and they headed home faster than a horse heads back to the barn.  It wasn't until they were almost back to the house he realized he had left the gas cap sitting on the running board.  Naturally, it fell off somewhere on the bumpy streets downtown and it would never be found again.  (We know, we went back and looked for it!)

Roger wiped sweat from his brow as we stood in the garage and he related his story to me.  Man, he was just glad he got her safety back home.  About that time, we noticed something dripping out from under Daisy.  Roger cautiously raised the hood.  Gasoline was spewing out of the gas line at an alarming rate.......

It was a harrowing morning for both pickup and driver, but it was worth it.  On Monday, Roger went back to the vehicle registration office and took care of all the paperwork without any more problems and Daisy became a Texan.  She's got papers.


Sunday, June 27, 2010

A Pretty Picture

If ever there was a time when the old saying "a picture is worth a thousand words" rang true, this was not it.  The first pictures we saw of Miss Daisy were pretty. They were really pretty.  The backdrop of the green grassy field made her yellow paint look pristine.

Her chrome sparkled in the sunlight.  Her whitewalls were white and her black parts were glossy.  We were proud to be giving her a new home.

Little did we know, her cheery exterior hid a multitude of flaws and deceptions.   When we finally met face to face, the first deception was obvious........Miss Daisy wasn't even the color she led us to believe! We thought the Model A we were adopting was going to be a bright, sunny yellow.  This old girl looked like dried up mustard.  Could she even be the same one??

We unloaded her and drove her around to the garage.  Over the next few days, we inspected her further.  She had problems.  Lots of problems.  Yet, with each problem,  we saw glimpses of the sturdy little pickup that rolled off Mr. Ford's assembly line in 1931.  We soon came to realize, flaws and all, she was a keeper and she deserved to be brought back to the beauty she once was.