God knows why (or maybe that should be Freud knows why) I’ve decided to call my just–purchased D–Super “Daisy”, but I have. This ’71 K–Reg car is sky blue with white roof and black interior, five speed, and she looks excellent. I have hazy memories of looking up at cows (black and white—geddit?) on bright cloudless summer afternoons, from the perspective of a five–year old.
That name is definitely a mistake. I’ve had her for two days, and already the clutch pivot has gone, and now the handbrake (footbrake?) won’t release—she’s starting to behave like a cow. The alternative is not too good, either—you could easily derive Kimberly from the actual registration. Unfortunately, Kimberly reminds me of the questionable “heroine” of Victoria Wood’s nasal teenage character.
Daisy? Mmmm … perhaps that should be Doris. Doris the DS! That works too!
Fortunately, I’m getting support from my supplier.