in remembrance

The 1997 Ford Taurus has died a slow death. It has been hanging on by a thread for the last four years or so. This winter it finally kicked the bucket. Well actually we thought it kicked the bucket and then a maintenance worker in our development contacted us wanting to buy it. We thought he was a sucker and he probably thinks we are. The Taurus and I spent ten good years together, it was my first real car. Here are some memories...

The Taurus is one of those throw back cars that can seat three in the front. My junior year of high school my friends, Kim and Melissa, insisted upon all three of us sitting in the front and then proceeded to rock out to The Sound of Music. We were hard core.

I Lived out of the back of the car my senior year of high school. I literally had changes of clothes in the back seat, it was a long commute between home and school.

Still having most of that stuff in the car two years later and Jacqueline begging me to let her help clean it out.

The Taurus is a boat, the seats are so big and comfortable. It feels luxurious.

Thomas and Phoebe would call the Taurus "the old car." Thomas also nicknamed it "the tortoise."

Jackson fixing the belt in the Taurus and giving himself a bloody nose.

Using a tape adapter to play Cd's.

My Mom hit a deer with the side view mirror. I was in charge of getting it replaced so I had to order a new mirror and paint it to match the car. I also had to ride the UTA to school until it was fixed. Camille felt bad and ended up driving me school more often than not.

The Taurus is not unlike Herbie. The trunk sometimes opens by itself. It decides what day it will let you adjust the volume of the radio. Sometimes the transmission works, sometimes it doesn't.

In other news, I had to ref another of Jackson's games this morning. I was running backwards and in a moment of pure grace and agility I fell flat on my back and sprained my wrist pretty badly. It takes real skill to fall over your own feet.