We are in Texas. Finally.
Well, I guess I really mean, we’re in Texas again.
As I wrote back in August, we’re making the move back down to Central Texas from Tennessee to be near Gabriel’s family, and take advantage of farming and work opportunities. We made a three week trip down here that month, and then went back east to try to tie up all the loose ends. Naturally, that took longer than we ever thought it would.
But, last week, we hitched up the flat bed trailer, and loaded it with pretty much everything we hadn’t already taken down (we left a few things for when we go back for Thanksgiving), and made the trip back. I promise you, it was the redneckmobile rolling down the highway on Saturday. But hey, nothing fell off, so it’s all good, right?
During this trip, so much went wrong, and I became aware of something that I’d never really thought of before.
Do you know what a blessing it is to drive a beat up truck?
I didn’t either. In fact, when Gabriel sold our perfectly wonderful, much newer Dodge Ram last year, I have to admit that I wasn’t very happy about it. The idea was that we’d sell both our really nice truck, and our kind of beater car, to get a not-so-swanky truck, and a much nicer car.
The logic was that we wouldn’t be driving the truck very much, and didn’t need it to be super nice. On the other hand, we needed a comfortable car that gets good fuel mileage.
Well, shortly after Gabriel sold the Dodge, he found this black Ford on craigslist and just couldn’t help himself.
The thing looked like it had been backed into something large, and run into on both sides. But the engine only needed some minor repairs, and the price was a very small fraction of our new vehicle budget.
So he got it.
When I first saw it, I was beyond skeptical. It’s been a good truck though. Gabriel fixed the things that needed fixing of course, and now it does it’s job hauling us, and whatever we load it with down the road.
That time the dock workers at the feed store were poking fun of me for backing up so carefully – wouldn’t wanna put a dent in my pretty truck you know – kind of made me wince though.
Then we made this trip.
And not even 1/3 into it, we have a rear tire blowout. That thing was a mess.
And nobody cared that it put a bit of an extra dent in the fender.
In fact, my husband commented several hours later about how much less stressful that whole episode was than the time he had a blowout on a truck he was trying to keep in pristine condition.
Too true, I had to concede.
the cosmetic defect of the truck included a cracked windshield
I’ve been noticing lately that my attitude toward visible signs of prosperity has completely changed – or is, at least, changing.
Once upon a time, driving a nice, upscale car was very important to me. Now my first question is, “what’s the fuel efficiency?”
It’s not that I don’t care, or that I just want to live as cheaply as I can for the sake of living cheaply, it’s that my goals are different now.
I’m delighted to drive a $1,500 truck, because that means that instead of making car payments, I’m saving back for a down payment on a house.
Besides, Gabriel’s right: driving a pre-dented truck is a lot less stressful than the one that’s meant to impress the Jonese’s.
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