Paid For

It was 7 degrees below zero this morning when I left for town, and the car started right up. The car is a 1998 Ford Escort station wagon with almost 150,000 miles on it. It’s showing some rust (did I mention I followed the salt truck into town?), but it’s paid for, and has been for a long time.

When Bill and I met, he had a van that was more than 10 years old. He used to joke that he had paid for it three times: once in principle, once in interest, and once in repairs. I know conventional wisdom says you should trade in any vehicle that inspires your mechanic to send you a gift certificate at Chrismas (thank you, Lance’s Garage). But I don’t think we’ll be doing that any time soon.

We need to avoid having another monthly payment until we no longer have a mortgage. We’ll have our house paid for in a few years -- sooner, if we can apply a little extra to principle from time to time.

For now, my preparation for longer trips includes a preventive maintenance visit to the garage. My husband calls and asks Lance to check the car over as if his own wife were going to be driving it. If Lance ever tells me not to take this vehicle, I can always rent another car for the trip.

But for now, this car still gets 38 miles to the gallon. It gets me where I need to go, when I need to be there. And it’s paid for.