The Altima was bigger and had a smoother ride. But it was scratched and dented because I kept scraping the sides as I drove into my ancient, narrow garage.
I also drove it pretty hard, back and forth to Highlands Ranch every day, so after 120,000 miles, it was time to let go.
As I emptied the old car of personal items for the final time, I thought about getting all teary and sentimental. We had some good times, that car and I. I'll never forget the big road trip to Kentucky, Indiana, and other points east (see blogs of same) in the summer of 2010. There were lots of trips to Nebraska and Wyoming, and scenic drives to state parks all over Colorado.
Lots of good memories.
But as I moved the tire pressure checker thing from the old car to the new, and the can of stuff you spray into a flat tire in an emergency, and the plastic dust pan I use as a shovel when stuck in the snow, I decided that cars are only machines. They don't have souls. They aren't living things.
Unlike my house. which is very much alive and evil and out to get me.
Ok, just to be accurate, I live in one of a bunch of old 1950s multi-unit ranch style condominiums. Mine has a nice patio and garden, but don't let that fool you. It came from Hell to torture me.
I had trouble the minute I moved in (see blogs from the summer of 2013). The furnace kicked on for no reason in the middle of summer. I was inundated with ants. I found out there were people living in the basement that the previous owner failed to disclose. Every time I turned the bedroom light and the TV on at the same time, the power went off. When I removed the window air conditioner unit, swarms of wasps living inside it filled the room.
And speaking of insect life, I sure have learned more than I ever wanted to know about bedbugs.
There was a long, long list of problems that first year. In addition, though I was in the luxurious new position of having an actual garage, it was too narrow for my car. To add insult to injury, there was a bump in the concrete floor which scrapped loudly against the bottom of the vehicle as I drove in and out.
Things with the house have gradually improved. I have a new portable air conditioner. I've adjusted to the odd circumstance of not having any drawers in the kitchen. The furnace now limits itself to winter only, though we regularly have to open the windows while it's snowing because it gets so hot in the living room. And we are bedbug free for over a year.
Best of all, Clyde moved in, making it feel so much more like home. He likes it there. He doesn't think the house is evil.
He also discovered and removed a huge colony of ants in a planter outside the front door which was the source of the infestation that first summer.
I've made my peace with most of the problems and I'm gradually fixing things up so I can resell my house someday. Some of the little flaws actually add a touch of character. So the front door sticks sometimes and actually makes me worried we'll be trapped in a fire some day. HA HA! Character.
At least now, I can park my car in the garage. It's lighter too, so I don't scrape the bottom any more (unless Clyde is in the passenger seat - he has to get out before I pull in).
I actually almost think I like living in my old house now. Our house, I mean.
Darn it, I think I left all my reusable grocery bags in the old car.
