I'm Lookin' at You

I stayed home today because of the ice, even though our office closings follow the federal government, and it wasn't closed today. I figured the main roads were ok, but the back road--my house to the bus lot, and the lot itself--would be like they were last night. Last night I saw something upsetting, although in comparison to what else goes on in the world, it was minor, I suppose. Still, where do people get the audacity to crap on other people and then go their merry way with nary a backward glance? It had snowed lightly all day while I was at work yesterday, and by evening the snow had changed into sleet and freezing rain. The bus picked us up, made its cautious way home and dropped us at the bus lot around 7:30. Our cars were covered with snow and ice, and there were about 25 of us, scraping and brushing. The lot itself was icy, but not falling-down icy, just slushy and freezing puddles. I was one of the last people out of the lot, and I was sitting in the car, waiting for the defroster to do its thing and idly looking at the only other person left in the lot, cleaning off his big truck. It was one of the military guys we pick up at the Pentagon; I could see that he was wearing camos and the beret, but couldn't see which one he was. He got done, hopped in the truck, put it in reverse, turned the wheel and crashed into the little car next to him. He hit that car so hard it moved it sideways. The truck stopped, he got out and inspected the car, and I'm thinking good, write a note and leave it on the windshield--it was an accident. But he got back in the truck and drove off, passing by my car and cutting off his headlights as he did so (by then I'd turned my headlights on, so he knew someone was in the car). So I couldn't get his license tag? Why else would you turn off your headlights to drive off? I feel so terrible--I could probably identify the truck, but lots of people drive them, it's a big lot, it was dark, and everything was covered in snow and ice. I didn't have my wits about me to follow him out to the road--he was moving pretty fast. I felt so sorry for the guy who would alight from the next bus, go to scrape his car and discover the damage. I couldn't see the damage in the dark, but there HAD to be something, as hard as it was hit. I thought of writing the guy a note, but what would I say? "I sort of saw who hit you, but I couldn't see well enough to tell you who it was or what they were driving, exactly." The only thing I can hope is that Mr. Military Man in a Monster Truck did the right thing when he got home (although he didn't jot down the license tag) and called his insurance company or the sheriff. Right. Maybe what I should hope is that he didn't sleep very well last night thinking about the person who saw him do the wrong thing. Hitting someone else's car--understandable. Dimming your lights to make a getaway: chilling. Have you ever heard of that book, The Sociopath Next Door? I'm going to be looking for him over the next little while...

Anyway, this is what I accomplished on A Garden Grew. I forgot to mention that the Lakeside Linen color is "bittersweet." The biggest challenge of this thing is the counting. I've had to frog out some stuff already.

And I felt moved to pick up "Dorothy's Garden" and do a little work on it also. Mmmmm--silk.

"I'm lookin' at you."

"Oh, wait. Now I'm lookin' at you and I can see. Thanks for the haircut, even if it does make me less cute."