Goodbye & good riddance to justly maligned lemon

Well, there’s nothing like a crisis to get a body moving on a long-postponed project. The mountains of papers awaiting my sorting services in the attic got their first visit in many months when we had to try and track down our van title last evening.

Yes, The Van. It finally hit the fritz. This, after enduring (and financing) its multitudinous ailments in the few years we’ve owned the vehicle. I suggested we junk it about 6 repairs ago. But Will was loyal to the Windstar ’til the end. He took it for one final drive to B-Town, and when he got there, the engine choked—overheated. Gaskets blown, oil throughout. The mechanic who came to look at it when Will barely managed to coast into a gas station advised: “I wouldn’t put another dime into that thing.”

And so we shan’t! But we shall be buying a new means of transport. Likely not new-new, but new to us. And here’s hoping for a better bargain than the last loser.

(And now that I’ve had a forced start on the paper-sorting project, I am hoping that momentum will keep me going. I had a horrible dream about a year ago, in which Will I and both died in a car accident. Did I envision our grieving family and friends at our funeral? No—I imagined their horror when they climbed the steps of our attic and saw the sloppy stacks of untended junk mail. I must conquer it!!!)