Now that I have Natasha, my Subaru, and can comfortably carry four other people just about anywhere at a moment’s notice, I find myself in a place where I can pretty much walk everywhere I need to go. I’m not sure if that’s ironic or just par for the course, but whatever it is, it’s a far cry from what it was like in Georgia, where a car was required to go just about anywhere — if we’re talking summer, even across the street.
That made things particularly dicey for me when we had a team lunch at work. At the time, I drove a 12-year-old Dodge Caliber with 218,000 miles on it. 

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