Barbara J. Hamby

Sexy Old Car

My car is being stalked. Who knew a ten-year-old Honda Civic was so sexy. For the third time, I’ve found a note on my windshield from a guy who wants to buy my car. They’re all from the same fellow.

When I got the first offer, I called him and told him that there is no chance I’ll ever sell my Honda. If I get too old or decrepit to keep my driver’s license, or if I stop breathing, whichever comes first, my kids will get my car.

Obviously he doesn’t remember that. Possibly he leaves notes on every Honda Civic he encounters in his travels. Who knows?

After two days off, I got back to the pool for a swim and a workout today and thoroughly enjoyed it. When it gets to be a drag, I just take a little time off and then I miss it enough to make me feel great when I get back. When I go at different times of day, I run into different people. I know a lot more of them than I did three years ago when I moved here, but not all.

I’m not looking forward to two more hot days before the weather cools down a bit. Today wasn’t bad, but the heat accumulates in our brick walls and over warms our rooms after a couple of days. So far, it hasn’t been enough of a problem to warrant buying an air conditioner and adding considerably to the electric bill. A few fans and windows open all night seem to cool things down enough.

Permalink