Triumph (or not so triumphant)

After my husband and I moved out to the house, I had an opportunity to buy a convertible Triumph Spitfire (not running) from a friend. I immediately jumped on the chance. I grew up with a Triumph TR4 as one of our family cars when I was a kid. Not very comfortable to have to sit on the center console, nor very safe, but fun nonetheless. When I was little, maybe 7 or 8, my dad and my stepbrother were almost killed in the Triumph when they drove it underneath a flat bed truck that was stopped in the road.......luckily they survived, but they did suffer major injuries. I remember going to visit my dad in the hospital and his face was so badly injured, I barely recognized him, and promptly fainted.

When I first got my car 30+ years later, my dad was still alive, and I thought it would be fun (or severely traumatizing, sorry Dad!) to fix it up and be able to take him out for rides when he was visiting. Plus my husband was a car mechanic at the time and seemed to initially go along with my little folly.

We hauled it home and immediately the husband's brakes were on. Too dangerous, I'm not interested in helping you, you can figure it out. FINE. I ordered the manual on-line and was fully committed in my mind that I was going to show him and fix the damned car myself, thank-you-very-much.......and then....I lost the title. It was licensed out of state, and I learned it's not so easy to apply for a lost title. To make matters worse, my friend who sold it to me never had it put into his name., so made the transaction that much more difficult.....

fast forward 14 years......

The poor car is nothing more that a place for the barn cat (Pennywise the Cat, a/k/a Kitty Bit) to sleep. My stick-to-it-iveness was extremely short lived.

Many years later, when HE came along, we added fixing the car to the list of the many things we could take on. I was renewed in my excitement that someone wanted to help me and do projects with me! WOO HOO! Let's get this title and get this bitch done!

fast forward, part deux

you know how part deux ends....

So it's time to get real (keepin' it real, 'yo) and finally get rid of the car. Clearly it wasn't happening for me and I don't need any more reminders of "things that didn't work out the way I'd hoped". I found a local guy who took it off my hands and will presumably part it out. Hopefully it will live reincarnated. It was a sad day, seeing it carted off. I guess I've been through worse. Good bye, sweet car! May you be resurrected one day!