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I hate car shopping. I know the rules and the swordplay if you will. Heck, I even tried to be a car salesman for a short period of time, I stunk at it but I tried. Just too honest I guess. But there does come a time when you just have to bite the bullet and go shopping. That time finally came for me. I had been driving a ’96 Caravan that I paid cash for. It has done well for me, but it was on it’s last legs and finally had to retire. It had been lovingly named the terrorist van by my children. (At least I think it was a loving nickname.) I would have been fine driving it another 10 years, but the final straw came when the sliding door fell off- no I am not kidding. So we had to start the adventure of finding me another means of travel. The prospects of this literally made me sick to my stomach. I realized that this process could help someone else, so here goes.
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bringingruralback 