First Time for Everything

Absolutes are nice. The fact that my little diesel car* had never failed to start, no matter how cold, was a point of certainty, clarity, and yeah, a little pride. Even in January 2008, during that brutal cold snap in which I went blackpowder hunting for deer and lost feeling in the tips of my big toes for weeks — even after all day out in 20 below temps, icy winds and snow, she started.

So I was surprised and dismayed this morning when, at a mere -6, she wouldn’t start. She turned and turned, but wouldn’t fire up. I warmed her little glow plugs five or six times — nothing.

Huh. Jodi drove her yesterday evening, and left her on the drive. Ordinarily I’d park in the garage over night, but still … those two days last January, she was good to go.

I’m a little sad today. No more absolutes: “She fires right up — except this one time …”

And then it’s not even that good a story.

* A 2000 Volkswagen Golf TDI, silver, pushing 190,000 miles. She’s wonderful. I’ve yet to name her.

6 thoughts on “First Time for Everything

  1. I think “my little diesel car” is her name.

    In contrast, yours truly decided to take the Prius today and, um, let's just say it ended with both kids in the back seat screaming while I threw myself in front of a sanding truck and acted all girly with the driver until he pulled us out…


  2. I've been thinking something Germanic, like Helga — “pious” — but I knew a Helga once, and if she turns up on Facebook, won't that be awkward … maybe Ida — “hardworking” …

    Sofia? Nadja? Ooo, I like Nadja!

    : P


  3. My little non-diesel Golf had that same problem a few days in a row in January. I thought after three days of not starting that the battery was dead. But lo and behold, on that balmy 20-degree Saturday after the cold snap, she started right up.

    Your little girl will start again, grasshopper.

    How about Sonya (or Sonja, if you prefer the true Germanic spelling … )?


  4. Oh, I knew she would start right up when I got home — it's just the sadness of that first stumble, the first signs of age.

    Sonja's nice, but I'm kinda hooked on Nadja … : )


  5. My, my, how we form these attachments, expectations.

    My little Ford Tempo GL “Good Lovin Tempo”, stayed alive because she knew I'd be stranded without her. She gave me many signs though.
    Someday I'll write about it. Thanks sharing your pain with us.

    I'm showing signs of my age too, but I'm hoping I've got a long, long way to go.


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