Today I said goodbye to Frau Vega, my very first car. I’ve had her since high school. Fifteen years with the same car, that’s almost half of my entire life!

The tow truck came and loaded her up, her front tires squealing in resistance.  Dutch parodied my car saying “no, Julie! Why???” and I shed a tear. I’m not kidding. I cried a little saying goodbye to my car and I’m not even a car person (I guess that’s obvious). If only she hadn’t resisted so much! I was embarrassed, but Dutch said he understood. We both had Seller’s Remorse. It made me feel like we were getting rid of an old dog that just wasn’t fun anymore.

How is it even possible, you may ask yourself, that Julie still has her very first car? Because a car that still runs is hard to part with, that’s why. And she’s a great little car.

I suppose it’s my practicality from growing up on a farm where there was always a plethora of vehicles around.  As a pickup got older and rustier, you never retired it, you just delegated it to a position in which transportation wasn’t it’s first priority. Yes, you did read that correctly.

And so it went with Frau Vega.

Living in the city, you make use of what space you have and we keep a pretty tide apartment because of it. Frau Vega’s trunk was different, it was an anything-goes-zone. Our backup car became a Wunderkammer, a cabinet of curiosities! Here’s what we discovered in Frau Vega’s trunk:

A hatchet and Mad Libs, not a promising combination.

Dunch’s lunch pail collection from his uncle Denny’s days working in the mines.

“It’s so strong! Really. Try to break it.” This is what Dutch tells me every time I try to throw this stick away.

Slightly warped, incredibly loose tennis rackets I borrowed from Dutch’s parents. Didn’t work so well.

A hammer, a steak knife, and some 70’s sunglasses. I can only explain the steak knife which I use to cut greens in my garden.

Dutch will never get rid of this sign, he loves it.

I asked Dutch why there was a piton in our trunk, he said “for rock climbing.” I repeat, why is there a piton in our trunk?

Maps, really really old maps.

Broken umbrella I got Dutch for a trip to Ireland with my note still taped inside.

A club that never made it out of the trunk and again, the strongest stick in the world.

Goodbye little Geo Prizm, I’m sorry I had to put you down.