Old cars never die, they just sputter to a stop.

It was cold today, and Hubby had to take the Volvo to work because I needed to drive Buddy Boy to his friend�s in Waterville. The Volvo needs to be warmed up before it takes to the highway, or it stalls and will not start again. Hubby has learned this the hard way.

Just before supper I got a call in desperation from him. He had got the car started, backed out of the parking spot, turned out and promptly stalled, using brute strength to get it off the road. When I arrived at the music department, the poor Volvo was on a diagonal across two parking spaces. First we tried boosting it, but the battery is practically brand new and that wasn�t the problem. Then I had the brilliant idea of using the Subaru to push it into a more suitable parking spot so that the block heater could be plugged in.

So that is exactly what we did. I maneuvered the Outback in front of the Volvo, backed up into it, and Hubby, half in and half out of the car with the gears in neutral, managed to steer it backwards up the hill so that he could back it into the spot right next to the outside wall socket. At precisely that moment, university security pulled up, and the officer in the car started laughing. Apparently they all know about Dr. MacDuck�s Volvo. Hubby plugged in the vehicle, and I drove home for supper, the security officer chuckling all the while.

Right after supper I returned Hubby to the office with Little Princess, whose band was rehearsing, and continued on to Waterville to pick up Buddy Boy from his friend�s. I played on the internet, folded laundry, chatted with Little Princess (who got a lift home) and waited for Hubby�s call. He got the Volvo going and drove himself home. And that, my friends, is the end of the story.

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