Spent the majority of the day yesterday chauffeuring the Missus around. First stop was the scan, then a stop to get her something to eat, then to the hospital for blood work. We get the results when we see the doctor next week. Hopefully see's still cancer free. I feel bad for the old girl - not easy waiting to see if the other shoe is going to drop.
I've got a list of things to do today - like most days - but I should be able to get back on the motorbike project for a bit since I'm stalled out on the school house bell. I need to finish the motor chainguard and then work on the pedal drive chain and another chainguard. There won't be too much more to do after that.
Finished up my last night-school class the other night. That feels good. Sixteen more days and then I'm done teaching. That should feel even better. I was talking to my cousin the other day at the reunion and I asked him how much longer he's planning on working. He said that ever since he was six years old, he's had to get up and go somewhere. I hadn't thought much of the school years, just my working years, but if you look at it like that, then 12 + 50 = 62. Holy Horseshit, Batman! I've had to get up and go someplace for almost 93% of my life. If I ever have second thoughts about retiring, (as if), I'll just remind myself of that percentage.
Keep on pushing y'all and I'll just imagine myself in that red Jaguar while you do.