Le Sigh

Friday was an interesting day. My car picks very opportune moments to randomly, yet quite effectively, die. I decided to rename my car from her former She-Ra the Princess of Power to the manly man John McClane from the ever-popular Die Hard films. My car died hard, died harder, and died hard with a vengeance. I'm waiting for the final installment; the inevitable live free or die hard moment where the car finally reaches its final resting place, probably in the middle of a busy intersection, on the highway, or at a drive through.

The reason the moment was so unfortunate was because I had just purchased grain for Shorty and was expected to drive back to the loading dock to retrieve my order. I, the triumphant fool, strolled out of the feed store and into the parking lot, thinking "Yes, I bought grain. Somewhere, probably in a city, some girl paid $120 for shoes, but me, I bought GRAIN. I'm COOL." I happily hop in my hoopty, only to to hear the ultimate sound of fail. After three pathetic whines, all I got was a click from the ignition.

"What? How could this be? Surely, I did not leave any lights on and the radio was off." I searched around, looking for a cause to my effect. None were to be had, and that's bad news. That means
it is time to shell out $120 on something other than GRAIN; a car battery. But first, I had to call my husband and asked him to drive over to the grain store and jump my car.

Once the car was running, I drove over to the barn and was careful to remind myself not to turn off my car. Instead, I let my battery recharge with the running alternator while I unloaded grain, turned Shorty out, cleaned his stall, waterer, and feed bucket, measured out grain, brought Shorty back in, rode Shorty, gave Shorty a bath, and gave Shorty his "good boy" cookies at the end of the night. I left John McClane running for four hours. To avoid overheating, I turned the heat on full blast in the passenger compartment to draw hot air out of the engine. While the engine did, in fact, remain in the safe temperature levels, my seats, the steering wheels, and the air in the car was stale and hot.

A new battery later, all seems to be well and good. Hopefully my only convenient means of getting to the barn to see my horse and do my work will not abandon me in the near future. Here's to wishful thinking *raises Dr. Pepper bottle in toast.*

The fine piece of machinery pictured to the left is not my car, but very similar. If the fake wood panels were taken away, it would basically be my car: a 1991 Cutlass Cruiser Supreme, mostly powder blue. Yes, I realize this is a Buick, but back then, they were basically the same thing. Sometime in the near future I'll take a picture of my beauty and post them for giggles. The rust that goes through the wheel wells is particularly amusing.

That said, I did purchase my car for $400 out of a junk yard and have since enjoyed five years, roughly 100,000 miles, of relatively pain-free driving. My horse, on the other hand, has an Albion saddle that cost $1,300 used (these saddles are over $3,500 new - yikes), and right after I got the saddle I had it reflocked and shaped to his back (another $400). Heck, Shorty's two bridles, one Tory leather and the other Courbette, cost more than my car. But, as a dedicated horse owner, driving around a POS while buying the best possible tack for my horse is A-OK with me. :)