I started before the sun came up. The day before had been a scorcher, so I wanted to get done what I could in the cool of the morning. As usual, it was a laundry list of scattered items here and there, but all of it needing to be done before I put the wheels on later.
One front disc was getting a ring on it, so that needed checking, the rear passenger brake line and cylinder could be put in, and the rear drivers cylinder needed to be removed, the bits of welding filed or chipped off.
The ring on the rotor turned out to be a cracked brake pad, so I swapped them out for new (used) ones I’ve been hauling around forever. Pick-ur-part special. People often do a brake job trying to sell a car just before they junk it. Almost new brake pads, 4 buks or so, I can’t remember, it’s been 10 years. LOL, that’s planning for ya.
That’s about all I got done in the morning, aside from laying out the tools which get packed up every night. Lee talked me into waiting for Pepo to show up to take the tires to a shop for balancing, the morning was overcast, which makes it wonderful for working, so there wasn’t the pressure to get as much done.
By quarter to ten, we were out the gate, tires on board. I had one shop in mind that had a machine right beside a window, but that place turned into a pain in the a@@, and they wanted 7 bucks a tire for balancing. I was warned.
David is a small town, everyone knows everyone, and I had been told 
the guys that owned that place were multi-millionaires, expensive, and not the best place to go. Let me sum it up for you. If you get called a Gringo down here, leave the store. These guys were the equivalent of Panamanian red-necks.
Occasionally, I experience the foul stench of racism, it ticks me off every time, you can’t change it, and need to instead thank these people for sending you off in search of those who are not.
Which led me to where I ended up, eventually, after a few other tries. This place didn’t have a machine, what they had was the old school way of doing it. 
A tripod type device with a level on it, more accurate than any machine. They allowed me to stand there and watch, while I chatted up the owners, both of them (lol, one to translate difficult phrases(office), and one to tell me all about it (know how).
It was the cheapest, the best, and came with a guarantee that, if I should ever have a problem with the balance, I could bring the car back and they’d set it right for free. That is a place I want to do business.
Happy, we returned home, and started with “the rest”.
First the rear brake line and cylinder. After about ten minutes messing around trying to get the back clip into place using old nails and screwdrivers (and puppy-dog tails), I said “there has to be a better way”, and there was. 
Looking around, I ended up using the drain stem from one of the old sinks as a “push”. I just slipped the ring clamp over where it needed to be, set the tube over top, and pulled. Snap! Just like that. Man, did we laugh. After that, I installed the new brake line, it was an easy disconnect/reconnect of the plug for the line, and then onto the other side.
The other side took a little more work. First to disconnect and plug (that little plug is awesome) the line, disconnect the other end, rotate it out of the way, and remove the old cylinder. I’m getting good at that now, so it took no time, and the little welds chipped off with a screwdriver. I had to file down the remainder, cut down my new found installer so it would fit, and “snap”! Ha, we both laughed hard again. It couldn’t have been easier.
Then next was to install the brake pads, which I’m also getting quite quick at, open the bleed screw to fill the line and cylinder, and onto the other side – first pads, then bleed a little bit. I got clear running fluid on both side in only a few seconds. Good. Next!
An adjustment of the spider gears (aligns brake pads to drum walls) on both sides, slide on the drums, and pump up the brakes. It took two pumps before I felt resistance, and then a hard pedal. Good. No, not good, @%$^excellent!
With Cass pressing the brakes, I checked the functioning of each wheel. All stopped turning in my hand as she pressed the brake, and moved again with no pressure. Great! Getting a little excited now…
And nervous. I’m not used to this much success in one day, 
so I stopped, sat, and thought for a bit. A micro-break, as they call it. I’ll call it a Michael-break instead.
I went around the whole vehicle then, double-checking all I had touched, looking for leaks, found one, worked it, and came back to it again, and again, until I was satisfied.
Wheels went on the front next, I topped up the master cylinder, and dropped the front end onto blocks. Next the back wheels, and down she came. I started it, drove forward to pull out the blocks, and put it in park.
What a day! By then it was quarter to 4 or so, the sun was blaring in through the back door, and as happy as I was with the proceedings, I was dragging my a## a bit, in spite of the guys cheering me on across the street from the bar. With that kind of heat, I was getting dizzy every time I stood up, but all had gone well.
I just about did a face-plant in my food at the restaurant across the way, and promptly slept for a few hours, hens, chicken, car alarms, and fireworks be damned.
You’d think I’d want to take it out for a drive, huh? Nahhh. With rush hour starting by then, and darkness soon after, our simple plan was another movie, and two hours of air-conditioned comfort. If I could have found someone to rub my feet, I would have, LOL.
Thus ended the most productive day here yet. I’m writing this the morning after, ready to pull the car out on the road, re-discover the car I came down here in, and the freedom that came with it. There’s still much to do, but mostly paperwork from now on.
I hope…