If you’ve been a steady follower of my blog you’d know about the ongoing vehicle woes that have plagued me all winter, the extreme cold, the constant snow, the dead battery. It was hard not to take it personal, like the car had it in for me, or just had a nasty streak and liked playing jokes on me.
I, being the bigger person, okay, the only person, decided to name my car…as a friendly gesture. So, my van is named Velma. Velma, the Van, I never thought of the alliteration when I decided on the name, it was always the car. Was that the problem, Velma didn’t like being referred to as a car?
I hate to say it, but Velma is ailing again. Initially I thought I could hear a little something when I started the engine, and when I gave it some gas. But the ‘purr’ has gotten louder, not yet a ‘roar’, but heading that way. Velma needs a new muffler.
I’m afraid Velma has reached that stage in our relationship where she’s going to start demanding more and more of my attention…and money.
I guess that’s what happens with age, our parts get old and worn out. I know just how Velma feels, if it’s not one thing it’s another, one body part or another causing some difficulty and needing repair.
For both of us, it’s a good argument for routine maintenance, for taking care of ourselves so we don’t have worse problems later.
Velma went to stay at Uncle Brad’s (her personal physician/mechanic) for a sleep-over and came back purring. I wonder if it would work for me, not a trip to Brad’s but a day at the spa. Maybe I should check it out.