About 2 1/2 years ago, some friends called us up the night before they were to move from Virginia to Utah. They said, we are bringing you our old van, because we can't take three cars with only two drivers. No you're not, we said. Yes we are they replied. So that is how we inherited a 1995 Ford Windstar minivan with a bazillion miles on it, and an interior that looked like the aftermath of 3 kids eating two bazillion happy meals in the back. The engine was so shot, the oil pressure light flickers when it idles. Teresa hit a dear with it and added character to the front end. I backed it into the Suburban one dark night heading out to a rescue squqad call. Now it officially had dents in all 4 sides. Last week, it wouldn't start, so I changed the battery, battery cable and the starter on a cold windy winter morning, way too close to the dog kennel. Did I mention that the dog's have been too close to a skunk? So after sinking a couple hundred into the battery and starter, the transmission started dropping down into 2nd gear - at any speed.
Whew - I didn't intend to write all that about the van. The reason for this post is to announce the purchase of a new truck - well not new, because I have never purchased any vehicle brand new. This is a 2002 Ford Ranger. I guess I have become a Ford Man - strange as that seems.
