Charlotte the minivan is not only merely dead, she's really most sincerely dead. Poor old girl, her transmission is gone, and on Saturday morning she started locking her doors by herself (weirdo). Looks like it's car shopping time. Poop!!
The door-locking thing is actually kind of funny. I went outside Saturday morning and lounged on Roz's red bench by our front door, just enjoying the nice weather, when I heard the locks going off, over and over again. I went over to inspect, thinking perhaps a hobo was inside and playing with the door locks, but no, it was Charlotte herself.
Since she still runs and moves, we drove her over to a transmission place we had been referred to and received the fateful call today - Charlotte's transmission is dead, dead, dead and fixing it would cost more than she is worth (as blasphemous as that sounds). So we picked her up and brought her home. DOUBLE POOP.
We've had her paid off for some time and I'm not looking forward to having a car payment again, but there you have it. You can't always get what you want. She lasted a good long time.
Farewell, old friend. You were a bouncy legend.