My car is a manual '97 Volkswagen Jetta GLS named Sonja. Really, Sonja II. It is my second car ever (the first was a '95 Jetta GL also named Sonja). I tell people I don't have a new car because Limerick swallows all my extra money. True, but not the entire reason I drive an old car. I am also sentimentally attached to Sonja in a bad way, but that's not something you share with strangers.
Oops, I guess I just did!
Well, Sonja died today. At least it happened at the barn, and not in the parking lot of Jewel or in the morning before work.
My husband and a friend's husband looked at the car and tinkered with it for a while. My friend told me about a '72 Volkswagen Beetle her family had when she was younger; it would only start if they rolled it down a hill first.
Her husband said yeah, but that car was old. This (referring to Sonja) is a newer one.
After an hour or so, with no other options left, we decided to try a rolling start. The guys pushed the car using high-tech gear to protect their hands from the hot metal of my car's trunk--a saddle pad for my husband and leather gardening gloves for my friend's husband. It worked!
Once a Volkswagen, always a Volkswagen, I guess?
We had to abandon the car at a Merlin's. We left the key and a note explaining the presence of the Volkswagen on their doorstep. No one is open today except Jiffy Lube and obviously, this goes beyond their expertise. I guess I'll take a cab to work tomorrow.
Automotive troubles aside, the McClellan saddle made a visit to the barn today. Alas, it does not fit--it clears Limerick's huge withers nicely but smushes her massive shoulders. You try fitting a mare who
-is butt-high and therefore built downhill
-has Himalayan withers
-has shoulders that would make the Incredible Hulk weep
-is so narrow that being mistaken for a broomstick is a possibility
-is uber-sensitive to any saddle imperfections
What will I spend that birthday money on then? I don't know! Maybe a cab to work tomorrow.