It took several more hours of work and some new parts, but the truck was able to make it home under its own power. I know our family has that whole epic history waltzing through almost every single possibility for auto mishaps, but it just isn't fun for me anymore. I don't want to serve as a warning for mothers to tell their children about anymore. "Take care of your cars or you will end up like the Smiths." How about letting someone else be the bad example for a while? The sad thing is, even if I had an extra forty or fifty thousand dollars to surprise the Mr with a new truck for Christmas, chances are he wouldn't like the one I picked, and he'd sell it and buy a thirty year old F-250 off of Craig's List with the proceeds (and use the excess to buy all the parts he'd need to fix it).
It was a lovely day on the front range today. It was just warm enough to be pleasant, but cool enough that the snow is still hanging around. It's still magical for me. I can't say that the pups are enjoying it as much as I am. My daughter finally convinced me to let her get a sweater for Elsa. She seems to like it, and if it helps her handle the cold better, then I'm okay with it. Besides, it's a pretty pink and gray number, and when she first put it on, she pranced around the back yard like a princess. If she does well, I might get one for Bump too. For Murray, perhaps a cape.
I got confirmation today that I will be interviewing on Wednesday with my first choice brokerage. I'm so excited I don't know what to do with myself. I hope this goes well. I haven't interviewed for a job in five, almost six years. I used to be pretty good at it. Like riding a bike, right? I'll let you know how it goes.
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