3 December 2005

Show and Tell: Car

Show and Tell theme: your car.

So. Here are two of the most boring pictures seen yet on my blog.

The 13 year old My-Owner-Is-A-Housewife green stationwagon,

and Mr Soup’s sexy work ute that I love to drive (see 100 Things About Me).

My fantasy car is a Volkswagon Karmen Ghia 1964, in pearly white. This is not going to happen as long as I have to cart around three children and a dog.

My car is not interesting, so although I’ve shown it to you, I will tell you about another car from long ago. The olden days, as the little croutons call it. When I first met Mr Soup, we had a whirlwind romance on a mountain top (see 100 Things About Me, again) and six weeks later, bought a beautiful twenty-year-old aqua-blue Triumph 2000, for $2000 and set off for a 3 month trip around Australia. As you do with a man you have only known for six weeks. As you do when you have one arm in plaster. (My mother was horrified.)

The car was a champion, and he was so upright, thoroughly decent and English, that we named him Roger. He looked fabulous against the shocking red sand of the desert. We have many photographs of Roger in the Outback, Roger at Uluru at sunset, Roger in tropical north Queensland, Mr Soup eating breakfast perched on Roger’s bonnet. It was on this trip, our honeymoon of sorts, that Mr Soup christened me Pea, and I returned the compliment by calling him The Soup.

Anyway, back to the car. We miss Roger. He came to a sticky end one day back in Melbourne a couple of years later when a Mercedes rear-ended him at a traffic light in suburban Malvern. He was taken away for organ donation and lives on in other elderly Triumphs around town. We hope.

Sometimes, as I drive around in my current boring stationwagon, I glance back and see with a kind of shock that there are three children, a dog, several schoolbags and a couple of violins in there with me, and I remember I’m a suburban housewife and mother.

But all I have to do is put on Midnight Oil’s Beds are Burning, and I am transported back to those days, hurtling along the red desert roads with the new man in my life, in an aqua-blue gentleman named Roger.

And all is right with the world.


Kim said...

For Chef and I it was in a little van we called the bongo van. We had been going out for about 6 months and it was the end of first year uni. We drove it down the coast road and then on the ferry across to Tasmania, then all over Tasmania for two weeks. We said our goodbyes when we dropped it off at its owner's house, who had let us have our way with her before reclaiming her for sale.
For you it's Midnight Oil. For us, U2. And yes, remembering it makes the world seem a little better after yesterday's events.

blackbird said...

I like this serious working vehicle. It speaks to me. It says - give me your backpacks, your sweaty cricket players, your grocery bags...

Ah, but the Triumph --
K had a Triumph and I had an MG.

(word verif. is oxrfil - something Australian hotties put on toast or in warm milk)

BabelBabe said...

I LOVED this post, Suse. I can totally see you and Mr Soup in that car.

Doesn't it feel good to remember we weren't always suburban mommies and wives? Even if we are happy this way, too.


I wanted to say I am sorry you were upset about the young man executed in Singapore. (The death penalty is barbaric. And I am firmly if controversially convinced that drugs should be legalized.) What a horrible waste of young life.

SueeeuS said...

That's a beautiful story. How wonderful to have had the whirlwind and now the soup with all its croutons too.

Barb said...

Wow. So romantic. I think you should renew your vows and take a second honeymoon in another Roger, for another trip. Yep.