This is a picture of my car being taken away to the car hospital. It had a high fever and puked in the garage. (overheated and spewed liquids) Bruce, the car doctor, says he can fix everything. Well, yes, all it takes is heaps of money.
So we have only one car now and we have to share. Which means I get a ride to where I'm going and he goes everywhere with *our* car. I took photos of the car being lifted onto the flat bed. I also promised the tow truck driver I wouldn't cry or print pictures of him. This is the view from my garage. This is what I shovel every winter. Into a nice herringbone pattern. It wasn't raining when all this happened and the sun tried to come out briefly but *rain* won. It's been raining ever since.
My co-workers at the library said I should have called in sick because of my car. They know just how much I love that little roadster. It was my 50th birthday present. I'm verklempt.