...turned out to be my treasure.
Remember that garage sale that I had with Bob a few weeks ago? When we were setting up, I began to put a rusty old clock out on the table, and Bob said, "pitch that; it's junk." PITCH it? Awwww, it was kind of cool, in it's day. And it could kind of fit into my decor, which I'm calling RetroGarrish.
Heh. Pitch it I did...right into the back of my car. I tore it apart and polished it up. Well, I tried to polish it up. I was whistling and polishing my little heart out when one of Brian's friends pointed out, "uh, I think you're making it worse." He was right. I wasn't polishing brass, I was removing paint.
A trip to the craft store then, a little gold paint, the clock was finally aesthetically pleasing, if not functional. Brian and I tried to install a new motor, but we couldn't quite modify the hands to fit without running the risk of destroying them. I turned to the yellow pages, found a man that repairs clocks out of his home, and dropped it off to him for a few days.
Voila! I picked up my New Old clock last Friday, and I love it!