We should have cleaned her up
a bit more before the trade in
our long white estate car
veteran of long trips across borders
seven countries in seventeen days one time
repairs on her radiator didn’t want to hold
discovering pink fluid on the driveway
is never good, but especially when
heading out for Christmas lunch.
At the garage, handing over her keys
I spotted green moss in the window grooves
door pockets still holding old parking receipts
and smelt a whiff of yesterdays manure transport
felt ashamed of leaving the old steed in that way.
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
The green moss is impossible to get rid of. It’s just an old car thing.
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Our pretol head friend mocks us for it…….
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I have always felt mean leaving an old car behind and driving off with a younger model. Strange really.
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I know what to you mean. We used to name our cars which made it worse, especially when our then five year old son cried all night when we traded in Cherie the Citreon.
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Oh yes! I never named my cars, but my sister and her family named their cars. The two I remember are Martha the Mitsubishi, and Brave John Boswell who died on our brother’s front lawn, three hours’ drive from home. They had to get the long distance bus back home, and borrow money from our very unfriendly father for a replacement. No one else could help them. Such is the history of families.
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Yes, it is…..
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Evidence of a life well-lived. :)
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😃
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Love this kim! Very cool!
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Thank you Carol :)
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Love this! I can relate….years ago I traded in an old car (had it for 17 years). Cried all the way home. You’ve described that sentiment so well, Kim.
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Thank you Betty. I’ve got into the habit of talking to my present car. ;)
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