Alarming and bad on the blood pressure.

After my husband and I attempted to head out yesterday, only to have an alarm start blaring on the truck, then talking to our mechanic about it, I hoped to avoid it happening again today.

So, as I did my morning rounds, I started the truck part way through and left it running until I was ready to leave. Maybe half an hour. So the engine was warming up nicely, and the cab nice and toasty, when it was time to go.

It wasn’t the only thing roasty toasty.

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You can’t see in the first picture above, but there was at least ten cats in the upper level. All the windows, including the sliding doors, were frosted like that!

What you can also see in the first picture is the heated water bowl, tipped over against one of the frame pieces!

The bowl is too wide to fit through there, though, and there was even still water in it. I’m extra glad I made the pallet floor open and covered with a mesh. I was thinking any litter kicked out of the box could fall through. I never thought it would allow water to spill through, rather than freezing on the floor! There must not have been much water in it when it was tipped, though, because I couldn’t see any sign of it in the snow under the shelter.

By the time I was done giving them food and fixing/refilling the water, only a few cats were still in the shelter. The more feral ones ran off. It was nice to see Kohl and Rabi together on the warm spot. There are five cats visible in the second photo, but a sixth is at the food bowl, out of frame.

While today was warmer than yesterday, the wind made it pretty nasty. Even as I write this, less than an hour before sunset, we are at -11C/12F – which is practically shorts and t-shirt weather for winter in this part of the world – but the windchill is -24C/-11F. I don’t know what the wind chill was this morning, but we were still around -16C/3F when I left.

Everything seemed fine, at first, but as I got closer to my mother’s town, I could see the oil pressure gauge slowly dropping. Sure enough, before I got there, the warning lights came on, the warning message “oil pressure low, shut of engine” showed up in the onboard computer display, and the alarm started sounding.

I knew the oil was fine. I knew it was just the sensor.

That didn’t help my blood pressure any.

I had left early enough that I intended to stop and possibly pick up a few last things for our own celebrations. Instead, I parked at the gas station.

I checked the oil, of course, and it was just fine, even though there was the warning light for low oil.

I took a picture of the dash before turning off the engine and texted it to our mechanic, but I didn’t even know if he was open today. I also messaged my brother, but he was on the road.

After a few minutes, I started the engine, and the pressure gauge was within normal range again.

I even started looking up local garages. One was closed, the other was closing soon, but the third was open later. I called them, but they couldn’t take a look. There was just one guy working (I had noticed their website had job openings listed before I called), and he was booked solid.

*sigh*

My brother recognized my truck as he was driving past, so he stopped by. We talked for a bit, he asked some questions, and basically said the same thing our mechanic did. It’s just the sensor.

We drove over to our mom’s place. For that short distance, it was fine.

My SIL had made some awesome sandwiches for our lunch. I had to chuckle, as my brother had originally intended to bring Timmies breakfast meals. The last time I was at my mother’s, while we were eating the food I brought, she told me how my brother would phone ahead to one of the restaurants in town, order a couple of meals for them, and pick them up before going to her place.

What I also know is that she would give my brother a hard time about this, mocking him for being “rich” and “fancy” by buying restaurant food all the time. My SIL got tired of it, so she now insists that she will make food for him to bring along herself, so my mother would stop basically calling him a snob (her Polish version of it, at least).

My mother cannot grasp the consequences of her own behaviour.

At least she liked the sandwiches. They were excellent. With her dentures (which she still refuses to fix, after having a tooth removed), we cut hers up for her to make it easier for her to eat. The sandwiches were made with these amazing pumpkin seed buns that only one place in the city makes. Delicious, but harder to bite through with dentures!

My SIL had also done her annual Christmas baking, and my brother brought tins of beautifully decorated cookies for both of us. My mother always complains about “it’s too sweet, it’s too sweet” (she doesn’t understand carbs, either), so he told her this was so she had something to offer people if they stopped by for tea. She actually showed appreciation for those, too, though when she did have one after lunch, she picked it apart and left behind part of the “sweet” middle. I think that had more to do with her dentures, though that’s not what she said.

*sigh*

The conversation was largely her talking about “history”, but of course only the parts that interest her. We just let her talk, as we’ve heard most of it many times before. Even my mother noticed, however, that she was losing track of her line of thought more often. The main thing was that she didn’t go off on any racist rants this time, which made it a lot more pleasant.

Eventually, she asked if anything was new with us, and my brother mentioned what my truck was doing. She wasn’t really interested in us, though, so that conversation didn’t last.

At one point, the phone rang. My brother was looking at the number while my mother was telling him to answer it. It was an unfamiliar number, so I answered with with my Hotel Receptionist greeting. Then laughed and hung up on the robot scam message. We talked about that for a bit – my brother got the same Canada Post “package held back for security reasons” scam call I did, the day the strikers had to go back to work.

Then the phone rang again.

This time, it was within our area code. My brother wasn’t going to answer, but I did, again with my Hotel Receptionist greeting.

I was answered in Polish, and recognized the voice. So I just laughed and responded “just a moment” in Polish and gave the phone to my mother. It was an old friend of hers, and they talk pretty regularly.

By then, my brother was needing to leave, and he knew I was nervous about the truck, so we got our stuff together and gave our goodbye hugs and kisses while she was on the phone, so she could have a good long talk if she wanted.

As for the drive home.

It happened again.

The pressure gauge was within normal range for about half the distance, but slowly dropping. Once it got past a certain point, it started dropping faster. By about 4 or 5 miles from home, the lights went on and the alarm started going off.

I’d messaged the family before I left, so the gate was open already and I was able to drive straight to the garage.

It’s one thing to know that the problem is just the sensor – and a new one, at that! – but quite another to be trying to drive with all those warning lights and an alarm sounding.

My plan was to go to my mother’s with Christmas dinner on Christmas day. I’ve messaged our mechanic, but if he can’t get us in on Monday, that likely won’t happen. I’ll have to call my mother and let her know. Her building is having a dinner in the common room on Christmas Eve, though, so she will not be alone for the holidays. My sister doesn’t celebrate Christmas, but I might ask her to visit.

Which means our own Christmas and New Year’s will likely be with whatever we have right now. I could drive into our little hamlet’s general store and back without setting off the alarm, but I they don’t carry the sort of stuff I was planning to get. I might still make the trip on Monday, though, for some other things I can get there, instead. Unless I end up in town and at the garage. The grocery store we usually go to is literally across the street, so I could get what’s on my list, there.

What a pain.

We’ve had this truck for a year, though, which means we might be able to look into trading it in for another vehicle, and get better financing.

Not a GM, though.

The truck itself is great. I love it. But these sensor issues are things that should not be happening, and having to replace sensors telling me something is wrong, when nothing is actually wrong, is not just a waste of money, but a major stress inducer. After all… I would never know if *this time* the problem might actually be real. We have only one working vehicle now. We can’t take any chances.

*sigh*

Ah, well, it is what it is. We deal with the hand we’re given.

But why does this stuff tend to happen all at once, and at times when it’s hard to get into a garage?

The Re-Farmer