You may recall that I was in a car crash late last year, and eventually, my little car was written off by the insurance company. Thankfully, neither I nor the other driver were hurt, and we were both fully insured, and because the other driver admitted liability (it’s a bit hard not to when you go through a red light), we got a full payout on my car.
But I was rather sad about it. I liked my car. It was a bronze coloured Susuki Swift – very much like this one – and it was a perfect round town shopping trolley and kid taxi. It served my purposes very well, it was inexpensive to run, and it gave me a real sense of freedom. We’ve had two cars for quite a few years now, but this was the first time that we have had designated cars – the Swift was mine. All mine.
We put off replacing it until we got back from our jaunting around New Zealand and Kangaroo Island – there was no point in buying a new car only to have it sitting in the garage for a month or so. But that meant that we spent another month or so juggling and organising and negotiating who was going to be needing to use Mr Strange Land’s car that day. Usually I got to use it, because I usually have more running around to do, but it was a jolly nuisance for both of us. Also, Mr Strange Land has Chicago electric blues music in his car, which is fine, but not really my thing.
Then yesterday, my new car finally arrived.
I’ve put all my music in it (opera and choral), and I’ve taken it shopping and kid taxi-ing. It’s lovely.
There’s just one problem. When I got my first bronze coloured Suzuki Swift, I took it round to my hairdresser’s, and said, “Can you dye my hair that colour?” He laughed, and promptly did it, and my hair has matched my car, more-or-less, ever since. But what to do, now that I have a blue car?
Click through to see my solution.