Let the fun begin

I guess I am trying to get comfortable with the whole cyber space thing. I told Dixie I was going to start a blog and she was very encouraging. Why not, I can rant and rave and talk about whatever I want to with the best of them. So here goes. At least this can help me feel OK about failing miserably at writing a journal. Anyways this will most likely be all about the new project me and my 2 boys are working on. It is a 1969 bug.

I have always liked bugs. Mostly because when I was 13 years old I bought my first one. It was a 1973 and had been sitting in a guys driveway for as long as I could remember. When I turned 16 I had owned 4 bugs and with the help of my Dad we made a pretty nice one out of the 4. It was lowered and built "california style". Anyone into bugs knows what I am talking about, they are basically lowered, no chrome, no door handles, and it was painted BRIGHT GREEN. It was a cool car. I always liked that car and today I regret selling it. I have bought and sold many cars in my life and there are not many I can say that I regret selling. Less than I can count on my hand. If I could find it I would buy it back in a heartbeat.

I think I am having a midlife crisis or something because I feel like a kid again working on the bug. I guess its bringing back memories of the many, many, many hours I worked on them in my early teens. I bought this bug with the intention of getting my boys involved and interested in cars like I was. I have to admit I already thought about selling it once to buy a 4 wheeler but I couldn't break my boys hearts. They are already in love with it and dont want to part with it. They were all for buying the 4 wheeler until I told them the bug would have to go.

So let the fun begin! We have already started tearing into the bug and we drove it around the neighborhood 2 or 3 times. If you drive by and hear anything that makes your ears burn coming out of my garage, don't be alarmed, Its just the 3 of us having FUN? ( Dixie knows when those words come out she leaves. For some reason the tools like to fly at that same time.)