Libby - A Classy Farmers Wife
“Steph, it is perfect. “
“I am not ready for that investment.”
“Just come look at it, I promise you it checks off a lot of you boxes.”
Silence filled the room as I began scrolling through photos of a car that was on my dream list. It was a 1982 Ford F-150. No fluff about it, straight cab, 8 foot bed, and proof here and there that it was in-fact a truck that was used for truck things. I always wanted to buy an old boxy ford, one that was simple and allowed for me to learn a few mechanical skills along the way. My husband jokes that I am an old soul who doesn’t like to spend money right up until the situation is perfect. He was convinced this was the truck I have been dreaming of since high school. The first car I wrote on my bucket list.
“Shoot.”
“What?”
“It does check a lot of the boxes.”
I then started playing the game of we don’t need to buy such an item…especially because my everyday car is an F-150. Long story short, I came up with a price in my head. A top limit.
“Steph. I think Mrs. C created an account to follow the auction!”
“There is only one person I know with that user name, I think you are right!”
We had so many people cheering for us to win the auction. I was cooking dinner while my ex-car dealer of a husband manned the controls…with our savings. For two hours there was back and fourth between us and two other bidders. The price climbing closer and closer to my top limit. This truck was not going to become ours, I could feel it, we would be out bid. I stayed in the kitchen cooking to keep my mind off the fact that I will either lose this bid with my dream truck or I will spend money I wasn’t expecting to at the end of the night. With about half an hour left I told my husband to back out and stop bidding. It was too close to our number. He continued bidding as my phone kept filling with texts from friends and family asking for updates. He had a plan in his head and I just needed to trust that he wouldn’t get trigger happy with my savings in tow.
My phone chimed. It was our cheerleader. The one who created an account just to watch the auction.
“AM I SEEING THIS RIGHT? SCRAMER IS THE ENDING BID?”
I looked up from my phone to see the hubs take his hands off the computer, sit back in the chair, and rest with his hands over his head.
“Well my friend. You just got yourself an 82’ Ford.”
All I could do was smile but then start to worry about money like I always do…and how to ship it from the West Coast to the East Coast. My mom and I name our cars. I don’t know why or when that started but we do. So far all my vehicles are named after a family member. My first car, a Chevy Beretta, was named Verna after my grandmom. My first truck is named Ross, after my granddaddy who left me some money to put towards a car. What was I going to name this truck? A beautiful cream and teal two tone F-150 topped off with chrome and some new American Racing rims. She was classy. Classy but beat up. A few dents here, some rust there, and an all original dash that has seen the sun. I looked up at our family wall at all the faces and then my sweet Aunt Libby stood out…married to the potato farmer/military guy wearing a leopard print jacket and perfectly done hair. Who knows if that was real or fake but she was classy and married my Uncle who was a fun loving hard worker.
The hubs thinks it’s silly but goes along with my vehicle names.
“So, what are you thinking…”
“I think I will hate to see the money leave our account.”
“And?”
“Libby. This truck is a Libby.”
The day the trailer pulled up with Libby loaded down was exciting but also terrifying. What if we bought a junker, what it is doesn’t run, what if…
Libby runs. With a few things here and there but that was the point. Time to buy the complete manual and start to learn. The “Libby To Do List” will always be a growing list I am sure but for an 82’ she is solid and runs well. What was the first thing we did when Libby finally made it to the East Coast? Went for a ride. Opened up those triangle windows and rode.
Don’t worry, we made a special stop at our cheerleaders home.
