3.21.2008

13 Cents, A Hornet’s Nest, A Fingernail and A Secret Compartment

We were cleaning the 1965 comet Station wagon yesterday (that poor thing, while it runs, has been sitting for at least a year unloved), and I found lots of miscellaneous items:
  • 1 dime
  • 3 pennies
  • 1 hornet’s nest in the passenger side of the rear door jamb - luckily, the hornet’s disappeared - probably somewhere near Kansas on the cross country trek
  • cigarette butts in the back seat ashtrays
  • 1 steak knife
  • 1 Lee press on nail, french tip, probably the pinky
  • 1 tube sock (stop it, Edna!)
  • a bunch of red dirt that could have only come from Moab Utah (or maybe Arizona)
  • 1 ballpoint pen from Napa Auto Parts in Breckenridge, Colorado
  • assorted nuts and bolts
  • attached and working seat belts (bonus - somebody bought the “safety package” in 1965, when seat belts were still optional)
  • 1 pair of green rubber gloves
  • white dog hair
  • 2 dark green felt squares
  • original front floor mats, believed to have once been opaque, but are now dirt colored (I think they may come back)
  • 1 old can of brake fluid
  • 1 older can of power steering fluid
  • 1 crumpled up grocery list written on a pink not-so-sticky-anymore note (milk, eggs, whiskey) Ramos Fizz anyone? 
  • lots and lots of dirt
  • 1 window crank from another automobile
  • 1 secret compartment underneath the carpet in the back

The secret compartment is, of course, very interesting to me. Mostly because I am fascinated with boxes. I simply cannot walk past a box in a store, whether it is a cedar chest, jewelry box or decorative tin, without opening it up. There is something so secretive about a box - you can put your most treasured items in it and it is somehow secret. Anyway, the secret compartment is about a cereal box size in width, and maybe 6 inches deep. Inside the compartment was where I found the steak knife, a few nuts and bolts, one penny, the rubber gloves and the bottles of fluid.

My imagination takes me on a completely different trek with the secret compartment hidden under the carpet of Buckwheat, but that is a story for another day.

Oh yes, we have officially named her. A big holler goes out to Traci Adams who inadvertently named the car:

BUCKWHEAT. 

Thanks to all who submitted names for her. When you meet her, you will understand.

2 comments:

Margerie said...

I am glad Buckwheat was adopted by such loving parents ;)
And of course, it is good Karma that she offered you a pen. Because pens run in your family and you like pens!
Of course, she may have had a sordid past (rubber gloves, finger nails, hidden compartment)- but I am sure you love her anyway :)
Honk honk!
Love ya!

Susan said...

If that car could talk, what stories would it tell?