Still biding its time, the Frickin' Van awaits
The better part of a year -- well, nine months, anyway, have passed, since The Frickin' Van's engine blew, and it's sat patiently in a corner of the driveway since then waiting for me to do something -- anything -- to it. It hasn't happened yet.
I've gone back and forth on whether to fix it or just get rid of it several times. Fixing it is going to cost $2000 for a new -- well, a recovered -- engine. That's a lot of scratch to come up with out of nowhere, and I haven't been able to save it. Bonnie and, for the most part, survive paycheck to paycheck.
But at the same time, I realize that two grand won't get us anything close to the same level of size and comfort as we have with that van. Hell, I'd be lucky to score a busted-up Ford Escort station wagon for that kind of money. So *not* fixing the van doesn't seem like a good option, either.
Anyway, my realization that I had to something with it came to the fore this past week when I opened up the front door and found a business card on the welcome mat that someone had apparently left wedged in the storm door -- it was for a vehicle disposal service.
So I'm looking into it again, and once we have gotten through some long-overdue house cleaning, I'm planning on spending a few days at least cleaning the van up so I can take another appraisal on whether it's still worth fixing.