The new hoopty has been christened Elizabeth Taylor. She’s a bit bloated versus previous years, and despite an obviously hard life, fraught with one physical disaster after another, still retains an elegance of sorts.
I call her Miz Liz with a Texas twang… which of course always reminds me of Buck Strickland’s wife… but she’s really Elizabeth down deep in her differential.

Sure her transmission had gone south last week, I had the unpleasant experience of the ‘lag’, like 1st wouldn’t shift into 2nd. Once in the middle of an intersection… and when she suddenly slammed into gear we shot off like a champagne cork on New Year’s Eve… Appalled, I could envision each and every dollar it would cost for a new transmission.

But… she’s been fine since. Arthur maintains it might have been a speck of dirt in the transmission… Hello? Isn’t that supposed to be sealed? His guess just brings up a whole new series of questions… that I don’t like to dwell on, to be honest.

In other news, yesterday was Zoe’s 8th birthday. We sang the happy birthday song and called Aunt Deb so she could do the same. [It's not your imagination; we are weird.] Seems like just last week the whole of her fit in the palm of my hand, tail and all. [sigh]