Before we’d left New Jersey, the husband needed to change vehicles as well. The Skylark’s clutch was busted; he patched it up with bicycle parts and traded it for a 1990 Cougar.
I eventually bought what I thought was the house of my dreams: a lovely three-bedroom, two-story affair in Dover, Delaware. The neighbors were weird, we had no friends, and I had to commute to my job. I got rid of that stinky Grand Am for what I thought was the Honda of my dreams.
The job I took allowed me the use of a company vehicle; I decided to drive it more than the Honda, primarily because I didn’t like the Honda. So much so, I couldn’t give it a name.
Life remained rather dreadful. The husband couldn’t find work, and eventually, I got let go from my job.
I sold the house at a loss, just to get out. The Honda went soon after. However, life did not improve and I needed some excitement. Along came (no, they didn’t really have these names) the Green Hornet and the Red Rocket soon after.