... I removed the timing cover locating pins from the block and managed to slip the gasket and cover up between the pulley and block. I tapped the pins back in afterwards so no one will ever know.
The hole on the bottom of the flywheel case where the rattly split pin goes, was tapped and Mr Woods' 'Catchoil' modification incorporated. You may recall that a tube runs to a sealed container, in turn connected by a second tube to the inlet manifold to create a vacuum, thus sucking up the oil that leaks from the rear crankcase seal. The hole in the top of the banjo is where I went a bit too far with the drill bit. I'll solder that up.
Next was fun and games turning down the over-sized core plugs. The advertised ones are too small and as soon as the block warms up, would pop out. I order the next size up and turn them to fit exactly. By the fourth one (there are eight in all) I'd got the hang of it again and I was pleased to have saved my original cut-off rolling pin tooling from the last batch of plugs.
I'll get those secured and sealed before I paint the block. To do that, I have to turn the engine over.
So far, so good. I debated whether or not to single-handedly flip the engine right-side-up and at the same time move it from one bench to another. With a lot of care and pre-planning, I was able to do it without trauma or accident. The MS engines are incredibly heavy. With some rearrangement of the workshop and bringing in another bench from the stores shed, I'll be able to complete the assembly. The cylinder head studs are the next job.
I remembered that I needed to turn up a new flywheel bush to accommodate the Ford input shaft which is a smaller diameter than the Morris one. The flywheel slipped on easily and after torqueing up the bolts, I managed to get the wire-locking going in the right direction.
After a day in the workshop, a warming bowl of 'Lobby' is always welcome. I don't stick strictly to the recipe of this famous Staffordshire dish, but the spirit of 'lobbing' everything in is upheld. I tend to first make a stew in the slow cooker, then to serve, cover the bottom of the dish with a generous helping of proper mashed leek and potato (spiced up with a good dollop of horseradish in the mix) and ladle the stew on top.
My grandmother (a Staffordshire lass, pictured here in 1917 at the age of 16) was an expert lobbyist and visits to her (by the time I met her) Cornish home, were always looked forward to on this account. In contrast, my grandfather had a relish for the unspeakable dish, tripe - the lining of a ruminant's stomach - swimming in Sarson's vinegar. I can still conjure in my mind's eye, that Sunday teatime plate of pale, slithery nastiness, today.