Keith has been driving my car to work to try and save money on gas, since his car is a big blue monster truck and his commute is about 30 miles or so up to the big city of Wasco. Wasco is famous for the Rose Festival each Labor Day weekend-they grow a lot of roses in Wasco.
Last December we had to put a new timing belt on my car after we were left stranded in Castaic. See here:
I don't know how to make those highlighted words that take you right to a post and I've looked in the help section on blogger to try and figure it out, so for now I just have to do the link thing, which took me long enough to figure out how to do the first time I tried to put a link in something. Sorry, I'm just a little computer challenged-remember I grew up when transistor radios were the big thing, so cut me some slack.
Anyway, so Keith just called on his way home from work and said the car broke down on him a few blocks from home, just plain old died in the street, and he was waiting for the tow truck. He took a look under the hood, and guess what? It's the timing belt. That is only 9 months old. The timing belt that should last for another 50000 miles, and I KNOW we haven't driven any 50000 miles in 9 months. What the hell?
It figures, it's payday today so the car must have known that our checking account just got a fresh transfusion of money in it today.