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It is done…..

The ’68 wagon has finally presented her name to me.

I’ve always found that my cars have named themselves, given time. A few examples include my first car, a ’61 Plymouth, who was the “Silver Bull(sh)it” (the ‘sh’ is silent); A ’76 Civic that was always getting hit was named “Mr. Bill”; My ’95 Passat, a pleasant but plain car is named “Vanilla”; my ’60 Studebaker Lark hardtop was named Buttercup for her sunny and cheerful personality and color.

Of the Volvos, there was my ’81 Volvo Turbo, named “The Swedish Whore” who was used and abused when I bought her. She learned to survive on the streets by f*@#ing me out of my money; Hyacinth Bucket (pronounced BOO-kay) was my ES that always put on airs that she might be a Ferrari; and then there was “Mus-turd”, the ’70 142, whose name was a combination of color as well as condition.

So now, the 122 wagon has named herself.

A proper British name.

Not Ian or Ursula, or any other person’s name…

…But instead a favorite food…

…And one quite descriptive of her…

…So now I introduce to you…..

Miss Bubble and Squeak!

(Or just Bubbles, for short)