Okay, okay, I'm doin' it. I know it's Thursday. I didn't really want to write about this.
This is Martha, my 12 year old, third-hand minivan, in the snow last spring:
She looks evil (like some kind of snowy evil pokemon-car) in the snow, but she's pretty benign. She takes us to the store perhaps once every two weeks, and on the odd family outing in between. Usually she sits in the driveway, resting as old ladies are wont to do.
Mostly, though, I walk around on these:
But they usually have at least flip-flops on when I'm outside, hiking boots if I intend to go far. We have a no-shoe house, so they are always bare at home, unless they are cold, in which case I can be counted on to be ruining some perfectly good pair of socks.
So that's how I get around. I have no pictures of the sleek, black mancar the husband drives, but I get to drive Lucy every once in a while. She's nice, and she'd better be since we now have a car payment again. Meh.