January in Seattle is glum. It's wet, it's cold, it's dark. It's an especially lousy time of year to get a flat tire and have to pull over into a pawn shop parking lot to deal with the spare.
Since my web search on them comes up nil, I'm assuming that dairy no longer exists. Hope they didn't go out of business because of milk crate theft.
I like to think I could do this on my own if I ever had to. If we ever get a flat on a warm summer afternoon, maybe I'll volunteer to try to change the tire.
Beautiful Georgetown. So hip, so happening.
He's kneeling on a Goretex jacket I last wore in the 1990s. I figure it's a good thing to have stashed in the trunk.
Those are called lugnuts.
The first time either of us has even verified the existence of the spare.