I know, you're wondering, seriously? Does this girl really name all of her modes of transportation (aka Indy and Isra)? It's not true, I promise. My car doesn't have a name. Neither does the Hubby's. But when you spend as much time in a truck as I do, you can't just call it "the truck." That simply doesn't do it justice. He's got personality, and I may or may not talk to him and encourage him through sticky situations.
(Think I'm a total quack yet?)
Frank may be a little bit older...and he may have a few bumps and bruises and dents and scratches...but he's my Frank!
We've had our fair share of adventures together. A couple of winters ago, we slid into a ditch together-tow truck to the rescue. A few summers back, we got wicked stuck in a swamp-farmer with a tractor to the rescue. Last year, a deer (a fawn, actually, spots and all), careened into the driver's side door-there was no chance of rescue for that baby deer. This past week, Frank had a little temper tantrum while working...his steering completely went out! We had absolutely nothing - the steering wheel would rotate completely and the tires stayed completely straight. Thank the high heavens that we were only going about 10 mph down a road rather than 70 mph on the freeway!
Thank you to AAA for towing our behinds, to Amanda C. for finding us a dealership and to Mike the service man for tracking down the rare part that broke in Frank's steering column! People are so great ;)