Goldie was once referred to as Goldilocks but it was soon shortened to Goldie, because all of our cars get a name, a very obvious name it seems as our other car was Hi Ho Silver.
Goldie has been a part of our lives since Popps arrived when we needed more of a family wagon and she has taken us well over 100,000kms in that time.
Goldie rarely complained and never had tantrums, as long as she had a belly full of juice and a regular health check she just kept on going. Except for the time that she made me miss Immy's second birthday. Having to leave your child at creche on their birthday is fine when you know they are going to get a cake with all of their friends and be the 'special' kid for the day. They love it. You also plan to leave work early, pick them up and head home for celebratory dinner and cake and opening of cards in the mail.
Goldie had other plans, she let the fuel pump take a break and left me stranded in a high rise car park with all the other cars piling up behind me tooting their horns. Hours later I had to get the 8pm train home and Goldie got a piggy back from the RACV. Immy's birthday was over and I had barely been a part of it, but having 42 cars backed up behind you tooting is also very stressful.
Goldie delivered us the best Christmas trees.
She drove through farms and up kerbs, she raced us to hospitals and delivered us to celebrations. She has been filled with balloons so you couldn't see out the back and been packed with prams, golf clubs, dogs and bikes all at the one time.
She let little people stand on her roof to try and reach for the planes in the sky.
Last year she got a little chubby and found it hard to fit through our gate which resulted in a picket off our fence getting wedged into her side flanks, there is no other explanation for such a thing to occur. Not long after a taxi pinched her on the bottom and she has had a yellow stripe ever since.
When a tradesman next door parked in a very inconvenient place, Goldie decided to teach him and his brand new ute a lesson and just reversed straight into him. It happens.
A couple of months ago Goldie decided to make life a little more exciting by refusing to let the driver out of the car. Mr H suggested we be all Dukes of Hazard and climb out the window instead.
It seemed the time was coming that we would have to farewell Goldie. Immy was worried and actually cried, because she has a special crayon drawing on the door in Goldie and she won't see it anymore. She won't be able to yell 'slow down Goldie' when I am rolling down the big hill yelling 'no pedals".
The sputtering and the whirring started to become something we couldn't ignore.
It was time to pass Goldie on, to let her go.
Thanks for the good times Goldie.
May you Rust in Pieces.