I had a problem. The radio in my car was dying a slow, agonizing death. Sometimes I could turn it on, but couldn't change the channel. Sometimes, the screen just showed garbled bits of lines and dots instead of stations. And sometimes, I couldn't even turn it off, so I had to turn down the volume instead.
But when the CD died, that was the last straw.
So, I had myself a new project. I ordered a new car stereo, which came with instructions for the removal and replacement. Here's what that looked like.
I went to hook up the wiring harness, only to find I was missing a part. So I drove around with a big hole in my dash for a week or so. Then, I got the part and went back to work.
This part was pretty fun and easy, after I figured out the process.
New one, ready to go! Old one, off to the side. So sad and lonely.
Ahhhhh. It's IN! I have tunes!
But...What's this? There's no....How do I....
There's no ON button! So after ALL THAT, I just push buttons until it accidentally comes on.
So with a heavy sigh, I'm off to look for the manual, so I can see what the little buttons mean, and which one is the code for "ON". So much for my technical wizardry.
I do have one more thing to add. Throughout this whole project (including the time while I was driving around with my carjacked-looking dash, Mark never said a word. Never offered to help, never chuckled at my mishaps. Just carried on with his own jobs and projects.
And I choose to think it is because he knows I'm fully capable of doing these things. And THAT is love and honor, to me. Not for everyone, I know. But for me, it was a treasured affirmation.