After returning from London my beloved “Pica” a 2009 Jetta TDI decided that she wanted to pitch a fit and not start. This is after I just put a nice chunk of change into her for a new battery a new piece called a “runner” (or something like that) into the engine. I told Pica that she was to get her shit together or she was going to get traded in for a new model. Several days later I was sitting at a stop light and the car started to shimmy and shake. That was it, the last straw. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach that something major was about to happen to Pica and I was either going to be there and suffer through it, or hit the eject button and say thanks but no thanks. Now, I’ve been stranded on the side of the road more times than I care to count and I was not about to be stranded in the middle of the United States. I’ve also NOT listened to the voice in my belly and paid for it, dearly. Enter, Glenda.
Glenda is a 2014 Subaru Outback. I hadn’t intended on purchasing a new car, but Pica forced my hand. I figured I might as well get the car that I know is going to be able to better handle the rutted roads, camping gear, and mud that I had been putting poor Pica through.
Now, my only complaint about Glenda is that I couldn’t get a standard and leather. Anyone who has animals (or kids, same difference) knows that the minute that you get hair, mud, goose poop (true story), or sand on cloth seats you are DONE. Leather is so much easier to wipe down with a little Murphy’s Oil Soap and it’s good as new. Heck, you go to a tack store and get saddle soap and oil and you could really make those suckers shine. But I digress….So a CVT (automatic) and leather it was. I was a bit disappointed, but I will live.
My Dad, bless his heart, said to me when we were initially having the discussion of me getting a new car, “Have you thought about getting navigation? It’s not like you can teach Perry to read a map and you certainly aren’t going to have consistent cellular signal.” He had a good point. I learned to read a map being my Dad’s navigator. I remember being around 7 or 8 years old in his 1970-something pickup truck and he was showing me how (and the importance) of reading a map. Unfortunately, he was also right in the fact that as much as I love Perry he is not quite talented enough to read a map for me. Added navigation, check. Trust me, I’m still going to have LOTS of maps in the car. I don’t trust that pushy “Samantha” broad to give me 100% accurate directions, but she is a good safety net.
So here she is Glenda (the good witch). She’s going to get broken in a couple of weeks from now when my brother comes to visit and we go camping out in Delaware. Her first 10k miles are going to be great ones. As you can see, Perry has already settled in nicely. Now, to keep him from finding the heated seat button….