The cars are messin' with us. Word must have trickled down that we are not really car people. We have stirred up the wrath and ire of the automobile gods.
Up early. I have an appointment for Blue Moon to get an inspection for the rattle that I'm hearing somewhere up front. First task: clear the car of ice and snow. Gently, because, you know, it's new and I still treat it as if it were a delicate little thing. Too, I clear the old car of ice and snow. Someone is coming to check it out for a possible purchase.
There's just enough snow to make all this a chore, but not enough to, say, go skiing. And the cheepers aren't happy.
Peach gets stuck in a drift once again and I have to carry her to shelter.
Breakfast. Somewhat hurried because we have all these car appointments.
As I drive Blue Moon up to the dealer's service center, I turn off the radio so that I can hear that annoying rattle again. Except that I don't hear it! What the heck! For two weeks it rattled away and now, on the way to the car doc it stops? Well, maybe it will reproduce itself for the mechanic. I hand over the car, play for him the recording we made of the rattly noise, and drive away in a loaner.
At the farmette, I want to move the old car to the head of the driveway so that the buyer has an easier time checking it out. Except that the battery appears to be dead. So now we have to call the prospective buyer to tell her that the car she is about to purchase wont start. Ed and I want to do this right. He suggests that we replace the battery. We're ready to set out to Walmart automotive center, and then the car starts and all is well and Ed is under the hood again trying to determine what caused it to be not fine twenty minutes ago. Definitely not the battery. Best guess -- corrosion on the battery terminal. He cleans it up. We wait for the buyer to come. She is late. Very late. She texts: leaving now! And again: be there in twelve minutes!
She never shows up.
Another call from another person: hello. I hear you're looking to buy a Mazda 2007? No, not buy. Sell. Oh, okay. Click.
Late afternoon. The service department, where Blue Moon is being cared for calls me: we drove it for miles. Could not detect rattle anywhere. Sorry!
Is that more than you ever wanted to know about our cars? Well me too! I want to get in one, have it move me, the kids, possibly Ed, or maybe at some future date -- groceries, from point A to point B. Then I want to step out and not give another thought to cars until the next time that I need to move things around. A whole morning spent on attending to cars? Too much!
The thermometer climbs to above freezing levels, but not enough to melt the snow. (Tulip, submerged.)
It's not hiking weather, it's not gardening weather. It's stay home and plan your garden and forget about cars weather.
