Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Well my theory was proven incorrect. What a shock. As it turns out, the mice did not make a suicide pact and throw themselves under my daughter's car tires. The rust-colored fluid was not mouse blood. You could knock me over with a feather - it was rusty coolant, disbursed after a "rear freeze plug" blew out. Apparently it (the plug) does that, the noble little thing, to save the motor when it is at risk of freezing to death. And as grateful as I am to that little freeze plug for dying as a martyr to save the car's engine, I would appreciate it more if would have planted itself in a more convenient location - since replacing the $10 plug is going to cost $500 in labor just to get to the darn thing. And of course without it, the car overheats after about 2 miles. Which it did on the same day that a belt broke on our other vehicle. I was driving my daughter home from flute lessons and all of a sudden there was a horrendous noise, followed by a burning smell. Drove straight to the auto repair place where they made the diagnosis - then swapped it out four hours later for the next dead auto. I've already got another car in the driveway that is up for sale because it won't pass inspection and isn't worth the investment it would take to get it there. I'm hoping someone who likes to tinker with cars will want it. Then last night my husband called (he's out town) and told me that one of his coworkers wants to buy our van - our only operating vehicle at the moment. Which would be great - since after 21 years of mommy-hood I'm ready to downsize from a van to a sedan. But if I sell the van now I have to go find a replacement - and I've already got all these other cars that need to be replaced. I'm starting to feel like a used-car salesman. And I just don't have the time since I'm busy being a mouse warrior. And not a very good one at that. What a life. Better go - I have so many things to conquer.