A Yearning

Ok, this is a juvenile post by a spoilt boy. But hey, it's my blog and I don't feel like talking about work. Take 2.5 weeks of vacation, and you know the shit's waiting for you in the office when you return is inches deep, you know how it is. So, no, this isn't about work.

I'm missing her.

My Claudia, from Stuttgart (Germany). A 2.7L flat-6 with a beautiful wail when you hit 3000 RPM.Replaced instead by Allison, from Iowa. A 18-lb 4-V (mitral, pulmonary, tricuspid and aortic, mar), screaming, poopy-making machine.For obvious reasons, I haven't had much of a chance to drive my car. It's a 2-seater, with passenger airbags; so while I've been almost tempted enough to even call the cops to find out if it's legal to have a carseat up front when you only have 2 seats, I know it would be irresponsible of me to drive her to daycare with this. And so, ah, the very exciting CRV.

I feel like a bad 'husband'. There she sits, in the garage. She was my daily driver the first year I had her (even in the winter!). Now, I've hardly touched her more than twice in the last month, though I've given her yearning glances more than once. The warming weather only makes the temptation worse. I'm missing the feel of the wind in (what's left of) my hair; the smooth-shifting short-throw gears, the acceleration as I drive onto the freeways.

And so, until Kristin starts working soon, I'll likely be doing daycare duty.

(and before you accuse me of being sexist and giving my cars female names, my wife calls her car Lucy).