blue artichoke

Last week I gussied up my car. I washed and waxed it, cleaned the windows inside and out, applied Rain-X to the windshield, cleaned out the interior, vacuumed and dusted the dashboard. Sparkling clean!

Then I drove to St. Louis, to the botanical garden. By the time we arrived, my car was smoking, but not in a good way. I've had an oil leak for quite some time, and I always keep a quart or two of oil for just such occasions. My oil gauge doesn't seem to sense crisis level, so I usually become aware of the problem when I notice smoke billowing from under the hood. I added a quart of oil and we went on our way. Monday I drove to the dentist's office, which is a mile or two away, and my car was smoking again. That's awfully fast for the oil to leak out, so I took my car to the mechanic. As it turns out, I have multiple leaks, seemingly in every component of the engine relating to motor oil. The cost to fix it could also purchase another car, and my mechanic suggested keeping a case of oil in the car and an eye out for a new car. Devastating news.

When I got the car, I had a problem with the antenna. You see, I liked sitting in a carwash listening to the radio. My antenna was an automatic one, so broke off in the carwash. I replaced it at the dealership, only to forget to put the antenna down before going into another carwash. This was getting to be a rather expensive hobby, so I started getting the short, cheap, rubber-coated screw-in antennas at Auto Zone. I've had the same antenna now for several years. It bends and whips around in the wind, and reminds me of a warthog tail. Warthogs shoot their tail straight up when they run, and I imagine my car to look like a little warthog running down the street. So, I named my car Njiri, which means warthog in Swahili. Njiri is 12 years old, and has been with me for 10 years. We've been everywhere together: back and forth to college, on several moves, a cross-country road trip, to Canada. Njiri has suffered all sorts of abuse, and has dents and scrapes all over to show for it. Plus, a tree once fell on it.

I've flirted with the idea of a new car over the years, but just couldn't give up on Njiri. It's always been a reliable car, and I decided to keep Njiri until I drove it into the ground. At roughly 177,000 miles, I'm just about there. Sad.

Dinner last night: White bean and spelt soup; popovers