| Current mood: |  relieved and content |
Happy journeys, dear friend.
The long and intermittent battle to find a new home for my 2nd ever car - She Who Refuses To Be Named - is over at last! A tightly run race between three contenders resulted in her passing into the care of a very competent farmer and his aid, who brought a cattle truck (or somesuch) to carry her away safely (and legally, given that she's not currently taxed). She is promised to the farmer's son, who is learning to drive and needs something to make all his first mistakes in.
I made all my first mistakes in Auntie Bess, of course, whom some of you may recall meeting, and others will have heard express herself in song (borrowing my voice, natch). Amazingly, she forgave me every single one of them, and we had several happy (and sappy) years together. She Who Refuses To Be Named went through less "active" abuse, and consequently survived life with me somewhat longer... but I shamefully neglected her over the last year, as she languished with a broken window and missing steering wheel, 2 miles away. It's good she's found someone with whom she can exercise a last burst of her characteristic exuberance, before she goes to that great motorway in the sky.
Most importantly: M & A now have a useful patch of empty space adjacent to their main driveway, which greatly facilitates the currently necessary to-ing and fro-ing of the wifely and paternal cars. And thus, a valued friendship also has a last chance to blossom.
She Who Refuses To Be Named also steadfastly refused to sing to me. And rightly so: Just 'cos one car sings to you doesn't mean they all have to. She had her own style, which was as unsentimental as Auntie Bess was incurably soppy. (Perhaps something of my Dad rubbed off on her, when they were together. Or perhaps she just learned how to be his bulwark against the tide of unseemly emotion... Or perhaps she only ever sang to him, and if that's true, then its not my place to know.)
She never expressed any interest in my emotional state: She was the veritable Cat of cars, and I was merely her chauffeur, and occasional playmate/sparring partner. She was into RefusingTM in a big way, and she always did it with aplomb. Especially that planned final trip to my storage space in Milton Keynes. =:o? But she was always great fun to be with.
[TAKES A DEEP BREATH]
Happy journeys, She. May your new young chauffeur give you all the respect, and all the challenge, you deserve. [SALUTE]
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pbristow) wrote,
